You are listening to Wrong by Depeche Mode on the late-night frequency of Radio 101 Zürich.
That sensation that rises through the body when the chemical and the visceral conspire against you: the brain on alert, the stomach churning, and that inner voice insisting on reminding you of everything you refuse to admit.
It had been almost two weeks since the hostess's death. Lucas decided to bury himself in work and in Andrea, as if that routine could anesthetize the inevitable.
The feeling of guilt translated into hesitant actions about what was considered right or wrong.
The moments of amnesia that dragged on and the cold facts of loneliness that tormented him.
From home to work, from work to the supermarket and back home again, over and over. His routine was the perfect loop, without detours, where his fears began to surface uninvited.
Phone call
"Darling, I'm on my way to pick you up, wait for me," Andrea said cheerfully.
"NO!… I'm about to close," Lucas replied.
He decided to stay silent about the descriptive scene he had witnessed that night; it was a shared secret he no longer wished to keep, yet he feared speaking it aloud. Thinking about the other person's reaction and what they might think only made him nervous and sick.
Wherever he went, he looked in every direction and listened closely to the sound of cart wheels rolling through the supermarket aisles. He observed the stares of strangers, inspecting who might be alpha, omega, or beta in search of clues.
He thought only of protecting what he loved most, no matter the cost, and of never letting the light in those eyes go out.
Many people are not good at reading body language. But it was obvious when someone with such an alluring smile couldn't stop rubbing their face, cracking their neck, complaining about the metallic taste in their mouth, and fidgeting with their hands as if they itched.
The loop of habits remained perfect and precise, and the sex came in quantities necessary—verging on excessive.
"Why are you so paranoid?"
"You're exaggerating," Lucas replied, rubbing the back of Andrea's neck.
"You know you can trust me, right?…"
Andrea couldn't leave; Lucas felt he couldn't go on without him. He didn't want to feel that loneliness again, that emptiness and grief. He came up with countless excuses to avoid questions and, among them all, offered the most absurd:
"I'm anxious because your rut hasn't come. You're not pregnant, are you?" Lucas asked.
Andrea froze in shock, having never considered the possibility. At first, he denied it completely.
It was true they had been together a few months, but that possibility was impossible. He began checking his schedule; he couldn't remember the last time they'd used protection.
Andrea's doubtful look gave Lucas a moment of relief, but that small lie made him consider the storm he had unleashed without intending harm.
Andrea suggested returning to Italy to visit his primary doctor, but Lucas refused; after all, he was under his protection now.
They scheduled an appointment as soon as possible. In a few days, Andrea would be officially listed as Lucas's partner on state documents and would therefore receive all sorts of benefits not everyone could aspire to.
_____________
Wchat
"We need to talk, do you have time today?" Raffael.
____________
That message made his heart race; it felt like the salt on a shot of tequila that only intensifies the final flavor.
Lucas agreed to meet Raffael in a place far from his job; he wanted no interruptions, but neither did he want doubts about his fidelity.
It was Thursday; once again the week had rushed by. The streets showed a dark bluish hue, people bundled up in heavier coats, yet there was still time to relax by the lake.
A small coffee stand, quite popular in the area. A calming view, and together with the seasonal wind, it created the perfect formula to soothe fears and secrets.
"How did you get my number?" Lucas asked, stirring his coffee.
"You're on the Internet…" Raffael replied, crossing his legs.
The same scene that had occurred in the taxi unfolded there as well: uncomfortable silences, eyes wandering in different directions, restless legs.
But the silence was outside of reality…
You are on Radio 101. We interrupt the broadcast for a public service announcement: the police are still pursuing "The Hunter." Witnesses are asked to come forward and give their statements after various leads have been received. And now, the song of the week: "Wrong," by Depeche Mode.
Silence. They had been having nightmares lately, trouble eating, and other classic symptoms of a post-trauma state that stirred nameless sensations.
"Did you tell your omega?" Raffael asked.
"No," Lucas replied.
"Have you spoken with Valentina?" Raffael asked again.
"No," Lucas replied.
It was a conversation not exactly short, but empty: deep breaths, glances that wanted to meet and understand only to turn away, and a walk around the lake with the echo of footsteps—until Raffael spoke again:
"Her name was Donna. They found that she gave off a scent similar to a beta in heat, although… she also had an alpha bite on the back of her neck."
In the end, each returned the way they had come, to continue their routines with the promise of meeting again for another coffee. Perhaps a second time would help loosen something sealed under pressure.
____________________________________
The following week
Habits had changed: the food, the daily schedule, outings, arguments, clothing, and conversations.
They both arrived at the hospital; it was not located in the area where they lived. It was downtown, and the entrances varied according to each person's phenotype.
The omegas' entrance was different from the betas', but slightly similar to the alphas'. Immaculate white walls, warm-lit signs, and elegant dark-green announcements. Staff smiling all the time, with flawless skin.
At reception, the nurse asked them to wait for their turn. A waiting room with more than half the seats occupied by couples many months into gestation, along with a Lucas who couldn't stop opening and closing his legs in desperation.
Their turn came; a very kind doctor attended to them. Fortunately for Andrea, he spoke English. He began describing each of his symptoms, the missing rut, but also the idea that it was all due to stress.
"Stop biting your nails, you're making me tense," Andrea said.
Andrea began complaining to the doctor; according to him, Lucas was a very nervous and paranoid person and needed someone more secure, so he considered it impossible for Andrea to be pregnant under such pressure.
The doctor began to laugh; he was used to this type of young couple. He proposed three different tests.
They began with a *transcapvictorial ultrasound to check for any type of gestation or anomaly. The doctor found nothing: it could not be determined whether an embryo was forming, but he confirmed that the uterus was in perfect condition.
Next came a blood test, the results of which would be ready in a couple of days, and finally, a pheromone test.
The doctor explained that in many alpha–omega couples, delays in the rut could be due to mental factors. This caused pheromones to clash with each other because of the high exposure load, so various pheromonal exposure tests would be performed to see if this was the case.
"Doctor, I'm a beta, this isn't our case," Lucas said.
"Oh, I thought you were an alpha because of your height," the doctor replied, laughing.
After that, Lucas mentioned that the third test wasn't necessary, but the doctor disagreed. He recommended that when they had the results, they could verify whether the problem was a possible pregnancy or perhaps a lack of alpha pheromones.
Lucas smiled politely; there wasn't much he could say at that moment. After all, as he had been told before, doctors are always right.
Leaving the hospital, Andrea began praising how comfortable they had made him feel and how possibly, after seeing those blood tests, they could finally know what was happening to him.
In a certain way, Andrea began rubbing his belly and biting his lips, from which a faint smile emerged. He sought Lucas's gaze and pulled his hand so he would touch it as well. A baby crossed both their minds.
Lucas gently removed his hand from Andrea's belly to caress his cheek; it was something he still hadn't fully considered.
They were supposed to be careful, so in part he was sure it was impossible for Andrea to be pregnant, and while his mind began to spin, a familiar voice broke through.
"Lucas? What are you doing on this side?" a woman said.
"Maria?" Lucas replied in surprise.