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Mr. Rozzi:
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Hey, Doctor Balis. How are you doing?
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Dr. Balis:
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Hello, Alex. What...
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Mr. Rozzi:
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The black eye? I knew you'd ask me about it. Got into a fight at school.
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Dr. Balis:
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What happened?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Well, this jerk, Tommy Hillstaad--big stupid jock--was teasing this kid, calling him 'little faggot' and shit like that, you know? And I was just about up to the limit already: my mom is being a bitch; and I wasn't able to get Tony--Marney is real upset about that, too, by the way. So, this stupid-ass jock was taunting this poor kid who was too afraid to fight back. I mean, he is only in the ninth grade and that jerk was being a big-ass bully. So I punched him out. Later, he got me back. And then we both ended up in the dean's office. And now I'm like...uh, I guess you can say I'm suspended now pending expulsion.
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Dr. Balis:
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Oh Alex, that isn't good.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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You're telling me.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm. And what about your outfit? I wasn't actually looking at your shiner when you first walked in. Velvet, isn't it? I can't decide if you are dressed for a funeral or a party.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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You're too funny. It does look like velvet, huh? Everyone wants to feel it. It's made of leather, brushed leather. Nala designed it.
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Dr. Balis:
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Nala?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Uh hum. The one and only.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Get with it, man. Nala of San Francisco? See, last week Ralph and I were having dinner at Il Fornaio, and she came over and started talking to us. Ralph knows her because she used to style-up the photo shoots for the ads he ran for his shows. You know the ads, I'll bet. I mean, you've probably seen them at one time or another. The real sexy ones--mostly naked men usually in some sort of acid-house rock-video styled scenes. Anyway, Ralph and Nala go way back. And she seemed to fall in love with me for some reason. She went back to her table and brought over Beilund Tajje, the photographer, and they joined us for dinner! By the time it was all over, Beilund and Nala told me that I had 'the look' that they were searching for and it would be grand if I would come and work with them and all. So this past weekend I spent with the two of them, and I brought along Rhea--they liked her, too. We went out to the coast. It was so nice out there, and we went through rolls and rolls of film. The shiner I got on Monday. And since I'm not in school for the rest of this week, I'll be going over to Nala's to get some fittings done. You sure you don't know who Nala is?
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Dr. Balis:
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So you're going to be a fashion model? But are you going to be in these ads you've just described?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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You're always thinking smut, aren't you? No, no way! Nala owns two lines now. Attaboy designs...you know what those are? The ones that look sort of retro beatnik except with a lot of vibrant colors? Those are for the twenty-something guys. And of course there's her namesake line, "Nala of San Francisco," where she's putting out a line of clothing that is best described as...what would you call it?
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Dr. Balis:
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I'm afraid I'm not up on the latest fashion...
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Gothic! Goth-rock stuff, that's what I call it. But, oh man, it's so expensive. I don't know how anyone can afford any of it. But I guess people are buying it, so there's got to be a lot of money somewhere out there.
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Dr. Balis:
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It fits you well. Have you ever thought about doing this before?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Why do you think I hate my father so much?
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Dr. Balis:
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Huh?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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A couple years before he died, I was doing modeling a little bit. I did some ads for the old Bullock's stores mainly, and I did a lot of live shows here in The City. I really liked doing it. But he hated the idea, made me feel like I was this small.
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Dr. Balis:
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Why do you think he hated it so much?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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I guess he thought that it was making me a sissy. He'd say that only sissy-boys model, and he'd rant and rave like he ranted and raved about everything else. But he'd complain about the modeling thing all the time--I was getting so much attention and stuff. I remember one time, he and my grandmother were fighting about it and he hit her. He hit her! I was in shock, I guess, but that's what he did. So the next day, I was over at this woman's house--she used to manage me, I guess--and I told her that he died, because I wished him dead. She was so shocked that she wrapped her arms around me and cried.
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Dr. Balis:
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How did that make you feel?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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I really felt guilty about it. I mean about telling such a story. Then she went over to my house and offered her condolences to my grandmother. And then it came out that I lied, and I was in so much trouble. My grandmother told me she understood why I lied and why I was angry with him. But I was wrong and I knew it. I'll never forget what it was like to have all that come down, you know?
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Dr. Balis:
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It sounds like you learned a valuable lesson. You mentioned something about Tony earlier. I was very concerned about your involvement in all that. What happened?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Roly and I went up there to the house on Saturday, just like we planned. But the old man didn't go out, so we couldn't go in and get Tony. Marney was so mad when we came back. She went up to the house herself and tried to smash her way in. But the old guy called the cops and had us removed from the premises. Tony was helpless, and when I talked to him on the phone later, he told me that he got in big trouble over that. I'll bet the guy beat him up, but I don't know--I haven't seen him yet. But Marney...well, I never saw her like that. Later, we got into a huge yelling match out in the street over it. She wants him out of there. Her parents want him out. And I want him out, too. But going about it that way--causing a scene and all--well, that's blowing it, you know? We're going back this weekend. This time, Marney's coming with us, but I'm going to make her wait outside.
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Dr. Balis:
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This still concerns me. Concerns me a great deal, actually. Alex, have you thought about all the things that could go wrong? Does Tony realize that you are planning to get him out of there? Does he want to go himself?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Don't get your shorts all twisted, dude. Yeah, I've thought about it. Hell, if the old man wants to fight someone, I'll take him on. But I have a feeling we won't have to worry about him. I'm more worried about what Marney will do. She has plane tickets back to France for the two of them, and her parents are waiting--we've been trying to keep them in France as long as possible. But they want to come out here, and that's just too many cooks in the kitchen, see? Tony just wants to get some space of his own: no Tim--that's the old fart's name--no Marney, no family. I think he's kind of embarrassed by all this--you know, what's become of him--and he doesn't really want to face his family yet. I can totally understand where he's coming from, you know? The most important thing is to keep our heads and everything will go smoothly. I just know it will. I just know it.
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Dr. Balis:
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Alex, why not get the authorities involved? If this man is beating up Tony, then the authorities...
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Mr. Rozzi:
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But Tony's an adult, see? That's the thing, isn't it? The old guy has been in a lot of trouble with the law for quite some time, according to some people I've spoken to. The thing is he gets away with it, or they don't have enough evidence, or the witness won't talk, or whatever. The police know who he is. That guy put a lot of people in the hospital, and he's not beating them up if you get my meaning...
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Rough sex. He hurts people because he's real rough and he doesn't care if they get hurt. But no one will come forward and press charges against him, because he knows a lot of people in this town and people are really afraid of him. So he gets away with it. And I heard some really gross stories of how some guys needed a colostomy after he was done with them--he ripped their insides all up! Pretty sick dude, eh?
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Dr. Balis:
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That's a dangerous man, Alex. I am very concerned about you.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Don't worry, Doctor. Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much? I'll be fine. He can't hurt me. I mean I'm not going to have sex with him or anything like that, you know?
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Dr. Balis:
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But still, Alex, you are putting yourself at unnecessary risk by trying to save Tony. I would rather you got some professional help, a detective or...
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Okay, okay, enough already. You know you're not going to change my mind about this, so why are you even trying? I have to help my friend. And since he told me that he does want out, then I've got to help him despite himself. It's the least I can do. I mean it's not like I tried real hard to find him when he slipped away, you know? But that's enough of that subject, let's talk about my mom. I've finally figured out why she's so hateful about this pregnancy, why she's taking it out on me, you know?
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Dr. Balis:
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What do you think it's all about?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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When she was pregnant with me, she didn't want me. She still doesn't want me and she never did, that's no secret. Now she's all pregnant and has Mark here with her this time. And she's bound and determined to have this kid. I still think she's too old. I mean what's a thirty-two-year-old woman doing pregnant? She's too old!
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Dr. Balis:
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She's just thirty-two? Alex, women are having children much later--even ten years older than you mom. Your mother is in her prime child-bearing years. She's not too old for childbirth.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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But the bitch shouldn't be having any more children, at this stage. I mean look at me. I'm almost seventeen and will be close to eighteen by the time it's born. That's too much of an age difference. Plus, when she was pregnant with me, she treated herself like shit--taking drugs and attempting to induce miscarriage and stuff like that. Now she's Pollyanna--taking the best care of herself, eating right, getting rest, and all that. The bitch wants this one. I'll bet she won't be tossing this one aside like she did with me.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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What?
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Dr. Balis:
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Alex, has it ever occurred to you that your mother did you a favor when she gave you to her parents to raise as their son?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Huh? What do you mean?
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Dr. Balis:
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She was unable or unwilling to care for you. Under those circumstances, I think she did the right thing.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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You would. You never knew my grandparents, but that's another story. So what's your point? She would have tossed me into a garbage dumpster, if it weren't for them taking control of the situation. If my grandmother hadn't just taken me, who knows where I would have ended up? My point is this: she doesn't want me, she never did, and she never will. This baby she wants. She justifies her self-worth by what she thinks she's getting from men. Take Mark, for example. The only reason she wants his baby is because she has him to help her. You think she'd be able to do it alone? Well, think again.
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Dr. Balis:
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Hmm. Did you put her name on your punching bag yet?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Yes, I did. Why?
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Dr. Balis:
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Just curious.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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It'd great to concentrate on her when I'm punching that bag. Yeah. That's a plan, dude. It won't be hard, I can tell you that much.
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Dr. Balis:
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I see. Our time is up, Alex. I'll see you next week, same time?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Yeah. Oh, no. I need to miss next week. Can it be the week after?
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Dr. Balis:
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Sure. Something you want to talk about?
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Nah, it's bullshit, man. Thanks for cutting me some slack. I'll catch you later.
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Dr. Balis:
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Okay then, take care of yourself, Alex.
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Mr. Rozzi:
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Always do, man. No one else is going to.
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Dr. Balis:
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And try to straighten things out in school--education rules in this world. Goodbye, Alex.
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###
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