I read through Steve's journal.

*****

I left my Grandmother's house and went searching for my father.I hired a private investigator in Chicago to look for him.He called me two days later and said he had a lead in San Francisco-- that my father had been living there with some guy.  He tried to break it gently to me.  My father was a homosexual.  They had moved several years ago and he was tracking down more leads.  He did have a lead on the other man. He had family in a town in Iowa.I listened to his words and I felt my anger build up inside me with each passing moment.My father was a "queer."  Those words dug themselves deep into my soul.  My mother loved him all her life and he didn't give a shit about her.  Was she some prop to keep the other guys from finding out?  Or maybe he thought he could be curedsomehow by screwing my mother?I didn't know what the truth was anymore.All I knew was at that moment I wished his throat was the receiver-- and that I was squeezing tighter andtighter.

*****I read some more.

*****

I hang out in this place called Mocha Daze and bide my time.I watch all these people go in and out of here.I sit in here, drink my cafe mocha and wait.Of all the people who come to this place, one of them interests me.  His name is Greg.I buried my Grandmother today and on the way back to L.A. I found myself thinking about Greg.He thinks he is so wonderful.  The way he walks and works out.  He thinks he's God's gift to mankind.Sometimes I think he's nothing but a pathetic egotist.  I want to crush him almost as much as I want to crush my father.I'll degrade him, debase him and make him see that he is nothing without me.Then I'll really have my fun.