My brother's somewhere outside the city, maybe in danger, and I'm alone because even Gabriel Ortega hasn't been around. But it won't bring me down. I’m singing one of my favorite songs out loud in the apartment: “What good is sitting all alone in your room?”
I saw Cabaret a few years ago in New York, but now they're making a movie based on the musical. I doubt we’ll get to see it here, since the new regime panics over anything with anti-authoritarian undertones. Of course, that nervousness implies a lack of confidence in their own beliefs.
This curious apartment does feel like the backdrop for a stage play, especially since Señor Ortega moved most of his stuff in, but hasn't really settled yet. The place is starting to feel lived in, but it lacks warmth. Ortega's visiting his family in the countryside, and he hasn't given me anything new to do, so while he's away I'm going to transform his apartment into a home.