“The overwhelming mixture floods my senses like a chaotic swirl of colors that blend and throttle each pigment until they settle on an unassuming gray. Faultless. Timeless. Empty.”

Using a simile rooted in his artistic perspective, Brandon articulates the sensory overload he experiences. The “chaotic swirl of colors” is a violent disruption to his meticulously ordered life, while the verb “throttle” personifies the mixture as an aggressive force. The final reduction to an “empty” gray symbolizes how this intensity overwhelms and erases his sense of self. The simile uses painting—a motif throughout the novel—to symbolize Brandon’s overwhelming emotions.

“Such a responsible brother. First, you came here because I made up a story about Landon, and now you’re worried about your sister. We have something in common. I like it.”

Nikolai reveals that his manipulation was a calculated test of Brandon’s familial loyalty, a trait he finds compelling. Nikolai appears manipulative and untrustworthy in this early scene—a case of misdirection, as Nikolai soon emerges as a supportive figure who breaks down Brandon’s self-protective walls to allow him to heal.

“Oh cool, you remember! Nice to officially meet you, Brandon. Or—hold on! I actually found you a perfect nickname: Lotus Flower. You know, because you managed to bloom so beautifully while surrounded by the muddy swamp that is Landon. Isn’t that so fucking poetic?”

Nikolai bestows the nickname “Lotus Flower” on Brandon, revealing a perception that goes beyond his public exterior. The nickname signifies resilience and beauty emerging from a difficult environment, showing an intrigue for Brandon’s hidden strength. This act of naming is a form of claiming and an attempt to define Brandon on another’s terms, unsettling his carefully constructed identity.

“He’s Frenching the fuck out of the girl, but his eyes are wide open. Not once closing nor getting lost in the act like she is. His gaze flies to mine, and I hold it, locking my eyes with his robotic ones as I cross my arms.”

From Nikolai’s point of view, the narrative exposes the performative nature of Brandon’s public affection. The diction “robotic” and the observation that his eyes are open and fixed elsewhere underscore the disconnect between his actions and his internal state. This moment reveals his behavior as a facade, relating to the symbolic use of masks to represent the gap between a public role and private experience.

“You want to know what I think, Lotus Flower? I think you were fighting your goddamn demons to kiss her. The deeper you went, the more forced it looked. The longer you had your mouth against hers, the more burdened you looked, so it’s safe to say you weren’t hard because of her.”

Nikolai verbally deconstructs Brandon’s public performance of heterosexuality. His blunt analysis voices a truth Brandon that is trying to suppress, violating his emotional boundaries. This direct accusation escalates their dynamic from observation to direct psychological confrontation, pushing Brandon toward a loss of control.

“‘If that’s a fluke, do it all the time, Bran. Seriously, this is your best work in a long time.’ He squeezes my shoulder. ‘I told you everything would get better if you stopped shackling yourself.’”

This quote contrasts Brandon’s controlled landscape work with a more emotional abstract piece, part of a motif in which Brandon’s contrasting artistic styles represent the contrast between his controlled public persona and his chaotic inner life. Landon validates the abstract work as his “best,” suggesting that his talent is linked to the emotional honesty he typically represses. The use of the word “shackling” directly identifies the self-imposed control that limits Brandon both personally and artistically.

“Usually, I don’t see anything through the satisfying red. But just now I was more focused on Brandon and if he’d faint or escape.”

Nikolai’s internal monologue reveals a significant shift in his consciousness. The “satisfying red” represents his violent, dissociative rage, a state where he typically loses focus on his surroundings. His ability to remain aware of Brandon even while consumed by this haze indicates Brandon’s effect on him, suggesting that his fixation can penetrate the psychological walls Nikolai builds during acts of violence.

“Losing control once threw my life into a loop of chaos and fucking destruction, and I can’t do chaos. Chaos is the source of all evil.”

This passage establishes the core of Brandon’s internal conflict and trauma response. The repetition of “chaos” emphasizes his deep-seated fear, framing it as an external, malevolent force. This personification of chaos justifies the rigid control he imposes on his life, while the cryptic reference to “losing control once” foreshadows the later revelation of his traumatic history.

“My heart hammers, and I storm toward the mirror, then drive my fist into it. The surface cracks, and I have to look at six distorted versions of my face.”

This act of violence against his own reflection symbolizes Brandon’s fractured self-perception and intense self-loathing. His loss of control with Nikolai has shattered the carefully constructed public image he maintains. The resulting “distorted versions” of his face literalize his internal fragmentation and the psychological crisis precipitated by the night’s events.

“But here’s the thing I’ve suspected for some time: it’s an image. I’m not saying he doesn’t care about all those causes, but he’s using his Goody Two-shoes personality as camouflage.”

Nikolai’s narration reveals his perception of Brandon’s character, moving beyond a purely physical fixation. He correctly identifies the gap between Brandon’s public persona and his private self, using the metaphor of “camouflage” to describe Brandon’s extensive philanthropy and politeness. This insight establishes Nikolai as a character who sees past the performance, a key element in the development of their connection.

“I didn’t mind because I had a girlfriend at all times, even if she was giving Lan fuck-me eyes. […] It didn’t matter. They were all part of an image.”

Brandon’s reflection on his past relationships reveals the calculated nature of his public life and emotional detachment. His admission that his girlfriends were “part of an image” highlights his use of heteronormative relationships as a shield, a performance to maintain a specific social identity. This context emphasizes the sincerity of his later emotional turmoil regarding Nikolai, as it contrasts sharply with the utilitarian and emotionless way he has treated romantic partners in the past.

“I pause inside, my forefinger hovering over the yellow button for the ground floor, and then I do what I’ve done my entire life: Run away. Deny. Pretend.”

This moment of self-awareness distills Brandon’s primary trauma response into a three-part mantra. The simple, declarative sentence structure gives the sequence a feeling of ingrained, automatic behavior. His conscious choice to “[r]un away. Deny. Pretend.” after a moment of intense emotional and physical connection demonstrates the hold his past has over his present, showing that his default reaction is to retreat into secrecy rather than build on a moment of vulnerability.

“He’s right. I should get rid of the provocation. […] I was supposed to get under his skin, but he’s the one spreading beneath mine like poison. It won’t be long before he reaches my heart and slams it to a halt.”

Nikolai’s internal conflict is articulated through a simile comparing Brandon’s influence to a fast-acting “poison.” This comparison illustrates a critical role reversal, where Nikolai, the self-styled predator, feels infected and overwhelmed by his emotional connection to Brandon. The passage reveals his vulnerability and fear, reframing his aggression as a defense mechanism against a bond he perceives as both intoxicating and potentially fatal to his sense of self.

“The battered cells in my hyperactive brain didn’t mellow out, but his presence provided them with tunnel vision. A target for my monstrous energy. Others fuel that energy. My Lotus Flower tamed it.”

This quote uses the metaphor of “battered cells” to characterize Nikolai’s inner turmoil as a constant, chaotic force. Brandon’s effect is described not as a cure but as a focusing agent, providing “tunnel vision” that tames his energy by giving it a singular purpose. This internal monologue establishes a key dynamic in their relationship and illustrates the symbolic weight of the nickname “Lotus Flower,” which represents Brandon’s calming influence on Nikolai’s violent nature.

“The blood and the penthouse. Both are dangerous addictions of different proportions. […] I’m not Brandon King. I’m not the broken entity who sees black ink instead of his reflection in the mirror. Not the weak man who’s more often than not swallowed by disgusting nausea and the terrifying notion of nothingness.”

This passage creates a direct parallel between Brandon’s self-harm (“the blood”) and his relationship with Nikolai (“the penthouse”), framing both as addictions offering temporary escape. The motif of mirrors and reflections is invoked with the “black ink” he sees, symbolizing his fractured self-perception and trauma-induced shame. This interior monologue reveals the depth of his self-loathing and shows how the relationship is a dissociative release.

“The first time I cut myself was by accident when I was shaving at seventeen. I watched the tiny droplet of blood rolling down my jaw and neck and felt an immense relief. It was the first time I looked at myself for a solid minute without feeling the need to smash the mirror.”

This flashback explains the origin of Brandon’s self-harm, linking it to the motif of mirrors and reflections. The act of cutting offers “immense relief” for Brandon, making physical suffering a tangible but unsafe antidote to psychological torment. The text employs blood as a motif to signify the moment internal anguish becomes visible, exposing the long-term effects of his hidden trauma.

“I could swear I heard his voice when I was sleeping and even saw him sitting in the chair beside my hospital bed and felt him stroking my hair. But then again, I’ve often been delusional when it comes to him. Sometimes, I pictured him walking out from the penthouse elevator. Other times, I imagined he came up to kiss me in public.”

Following his kidnapping, Nikolai’s internal monologue reveals his vulnerability and the depth of his obsession, blurring the line between reality and delusion. The admission of being “delusional when it comes to him” highlights how Brandon has destabilized his typically confident worldview. This moment of uncertainty softens Nikolai’s character, showing that his feelings are more complex than simple possession and are moving toward genuine connection.

“Because Nikolai is the only one who kisses the pain out of me, even if temporarily. I trace my lips over his jaw, his high cheekbones, and then down his neck, careful not to touch the bandage covering the injury. […] ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, kissing around the bandage over and over. ‘So sorry.’”

This passage juxtaposes Brandon’s physical desire with his deep guilt and need for atonement after Nikolai is injured by his family. The act of kissing around the bandage becomes a non-verbal apology, a physical manifestation of his remorse for his family’s actions and his own perceived cowardice. The phrase “kisses the pain out of me” reinforces the idea of their relationship as a form of temporary relief from his internal suffering, a core element of his character arc.

“For the first time in eight years, I didn’t wake up at five. I don’t even do alarm clocks anymore. I am the clock. I always wake up at five. I always run at five thirty. Not today. I shattered my holy routine, and now all the chaos will come rushing in. What the fuck have I done?”

The metaphor calling Brandon “the clock” and the description of his routine as “holy” emphasize the rigid control he uses to manage his inner “chaos.” Waking up late with Nikolai signifies a deep shift, as the comfort he provides is powerful enough to break an eight-year-long defense mechanism. This moment is a turning point, suggesting that their connection might offer a new way of managing Brandon’s trauma that doesn’t rely solely on autocratic self-discipline.

“I cup his chin and stare deep into those eyes that have become my undoing as I say the words Grandpa said Russians take seriously and literally. ‘Ya nee ma goo bees tee byah zhit.’ ‘What does that mean?’ ‘You’re so cute,’ I lie through my teeth.”

“‘Because I’m fucked up.’ His voice sounds like death’s lullaby, anguished and shattered. ‘Because I look at myself in the mirror and get the urge to shatter it to pieces. Because I’ve been haunted by the bitter taste of nausea and self-loathing for so long, I don’t know how to live without them. […] Why do you touch me like I’m beautiful? Why don’t you hate me when I can’t stand my-fucking-self?’”

“‘Because I’m fucked up.’ His voice sounds like death’s lullaby, anguished and shattered. ‘Because I look at myself in the mirror and get the urge to shatter it to pieces. Because I’ve been haunted by the bitter taste of nausea and self-loathing for so long, I don’t know how to live without them. […] Why do you touch me like I’m beautiful? Why don’t you hate me when I can’t stand my-fucking-self?’”

Brandon’s confession directly links his trauma to the motif of mirrors, which represent his fractured identity and inability to face himself. The rhetorical questions directed at Nikolai reveal his core conflict: He can’t reconcile Nikolai’s affection with his own self-loathing. This moment breaks his pattern of silence, initiating a shift toward this idea as he makes his private suffering visible.

“‘I don’t think I’m bi. I’m just gay.’ The words flow from my mouth easier than I thought. ‘Asexual, too. Or I was. I think the right term is demisexual. I can only feel sexual desire toward someone I like.’”

This declaration marks Brandon’s first voluntary step toward dismantling his secretive facade with his family and friends. By articulating his identity with precise terminology—gay and demisexual—he moves beyond pretending and toward self-acceptance. The observation that the words flow “easier than [he] thought” illustrates how the act of honest disclosure lessens the internal burden he has carried, reinforcing The Danger of Repressing Trauma.

“For the first time in fucking ever, I don’t have myself under control. […] The alternative to the pills is being stuck in the middle of a debilitating rage for the foreseeable future. Rage that can’t be doused by any fighting, riding, nor any extended fucking sight of blood.”

This passage establishes Nikolai’s internal chaos, which serves as the narrative catalyst for his violent and impulsive actions, including accidentally punching Brandon. His loss of control contrasts sharply with Brandon’s meticulously ordered life. This interior monologue provides important characterization, framing his aggression as a manifestation of a deeper psychological struggle he can’t contain.