This Crazy Rich Boy

"Oh, wow," Claire exclaims, gazing at the fantastic world of lights and sound before them. "I've never been to an amusement park. I've only seen them in pictures."

"Are you serious?" Miguel says? "You've never tried riding on a rollercoaster, or the horror booth, or one of those great slides that make you feel like you're about to die?"

Claire laughs. "Oh, no. Never. Never had time for it. Never had someone to bring me to one."

"Well, now you have me," Miguel says, laughing. "Right, Gabriel?"

Gabriel smiles and nods. No talking, right?

Claire looks at Gabriel, who seems to have become weirder and weirder, but decides she should let it go. If she calls him out, Gabriel might only become more embarrassed.

"So where shall we go first, my Princess?" Miguel says playfully as he curtsies.

"Stop that," she says. Then she turns to Gabriel. "What do you think I should try out, first? I'm an Amusement Park Virgin, mind you." She giggles; it's the kind of childlike playfulness that almost melts Gabriel's heart.

Yet, Gabriel shrugs, and points forward with his mouth. As if saying, let's walk along and see what stands out.

Miguel throws him a meaningful glance. "Maybe," he begins, thinking about what Gabriel would want to revisit most. "Maybe we should try the shooting gallery, right, brother?"

Gabriel smiles and nods.

"So who's the night's sharpshooter, eh?" the gallery's host says, handing Miguel a loaded air rifle.

Miguel accepts the rifle and examines it. He tests its heft and feel, like some shooting gallery connoisseur. "Showing off," Gabriel thinks. Miguel aims the rifle at a random target, but eventually decides to hand the rifle to Claire. "Do the honor," he says.

"I don't know how to use this," she says, but even so she takes the rifle.

"You just aim it at those balloons, then pull the trigger. That simple. Don't worry, it's not a real gun. It only shoots pellets."

"I'm not sure if I can hit that," she says.

"It doesn't matter. Just start shooting," Miguel reassures.

"Yeah, just aim at 'em balloons and let 'em pop, then you get one of these nice fluffy things," the gallery host says.

"Well, I…" Reluctantly, she lifts the rifle, but she does so awkwardly.

"Wait," Miguel says, then he brings her arms around Claire in order to ȧssist her aiming. There's an awkward expression on Claire's face for a moment, surprised at Miguel's body's closeness to hers, like he's actually hugging her tightly. "You hold the handle here," Miguel says, closing his hand around her hand. "Then you use this to guide the sight. There, aim. Wait, hold your breath."

Gabriel watches it all in silence, but in his mind, he almost protests. Miguel's doing all the sneaky moves in the book, and Gabriel could almost read Miguel's next plan. There's nothing Miguel can hide from him. It's so goddamn obvious. If this were not his brother, he would have strangled him.

Claire holds her breath, but as she does so, Miguel also holds his breath, his face almost right next to hers. She could smell his cologne, some expensive-smelling perfume not unlike what Gabriel uses. She feels awkward, and her aim worsens because of it.

"Now, pull the trigger," Miguel says.

Claire closes her eyes as she pulls the trigger, which is, of course, a mistake. She hits nothing but wall.

"Alright, let's try again," Miguel says. "Point it at that big red balloon. Then don't even think. Just pull the trigger."

Claire takes a deep breath. She aims down the barrel, then pulls the trigger. But like the previous one, she hits nothing but wall. Then before Miguel could speak, Claire unloads her bullets in quick succession, trying to hit at least one of these balloons.

Unfortunately, she runs out of bullets without hitting anything. She turns to Miguel, red in the face. "I told you, it's my first time."

"That's okay," Miguel says, smiling. "Here, let me show you."

Miguel holds the rifle like an expert, like he has done this every single day all his life. He flicks his head and runs his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, like a rock star with a weapon. Then he holds the rifle aloft, aims at the balloons, then pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens. No balloon pops. Confused, Miguel looks at the rifle. "This rifle is faulty," he says to the gallery host.

"Oh, no, rifle's super-fine," host says, then he takes the rifle from Miguel. He points the rifle at one of the balloons and shoots it. He balloon explodes. "See?" Then he hands back the rifle to Miguel.

Miguel sighs. This doesn't seem to be going well in his favor. He makes sure the rifle has pellets, then he goes through the same motions: he aims, pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. The balloons sway to the wind, as if mocking him. A little pissed at this point, Miguel starts shooting; he empties the load upon all the balloons, yet none of them pops. In the end, he hands the rifle back to the host without a word.

The gallery host snickers. "Bad day of shooting, eh?" He refills it with pellets. Then he notices Gabriel standing by the side. "What about you? Won't you try it?"

Gabriel shrugs and still doesn't speak.

"Just for shits," the gallery hosts insists, handing Gabriel the rifle.

Without another word, Gabriel takes it.

"Be careful," Miguel says, and even tries to give him some tips. "Just try to aim a little higher than the target."

If that's effective, why didn't you do it, Gabriel thinks. But he nonchalantly aims the rifle at one of the balloons, he pulls the trigger, and it pops!

"You've hit it!" Claire exclaims in amazement!

"Maybe you're lucky," Miguel says.

"Oh, my God!" Claire exclaims. "That's amazing!"

Gabriel tries to downplay it. He simply shrugs.

"Maybe you're really lucky," Miguel says.

"At your rate, you might clean me out," gallery host says.

"What do I have to hit to win that big teddy?" Gabriel says, finally breaking his short-lived vow of silence.

"Well, that pink balloon in the far left, the one in the corner. That's the target. If you hit it."

"That should be easy," Gabriel says.

"Oh, no," gallery host says. "There's a reason why that balloon pays the top prize. There are factors, you see. The wind comes from that corner, and it tends to influence the bullet. And there's the angle of the wall, et cetera. So…"

Gabriel simply shrugs, ċȯċks the rifle, holds it up, aims it, then pulls the trigger.

"Maybe you're really, really lucky," Miguel says.

"Yeah," gallery host says as he accepts the rifle from Gabriel. "Some guys have all the luck."

"Where are the prizes?"

"Oh, so eager to pillage a poor shooting gallery, eh?" gallery hosts says, as he starts piling on the counter all the toys Gabriel has won: one Peppa Pig stuffed toy, a couple of dinosaurs, and the grand prize: a teddy bear half the height of Claire.

Claire's face lights up as Gabriel gives her everything. "I can't hold them all!" she shrieks in delight. Truly, there's something about this amusement park that seems to have made Claire so happy, like a child unleashed. And the happier she is, the more she glows beautifully, to the point that even the gallery host stares at her.

"She's really something," the gallery host says, smiling despite his loss.

"Yeah," Miguel mutters, gazing at Claire happily accepting Gabriel's prizes. "She's truly special."