Helena knocked several times on her brother's door. Between each rap, there was no answer. It wasn't unusual for him to lock himself away. It was unusual for him not to show his face to the family at all.
She knocked again. When he didn't answer, she tested the handle. It turned and opened. If Wynn didn't lock the door, he was not in a good mood. It meant he was so engrossed in whatever emotions that were playing through him he'd forgotten there were seven others in the house. She pushed it open and went in.
There were several canvases drying about the room. She couldn't understand them, but sometimes Wynn was abstract. It wasn't often since he liked doing landscapes and portraits, but it happened occasionally.
He was sitting at an easel, headphones covering his ears. He was in his paint splattered scrubs. He hated wearing coveralls because he hated suffocating long sleeves. The scrubs were lightweight so he could move whenever he was doing something very messy.
Helena stared at everything scattered about. Wynn's sporadic ideas didn't make any sense. They were all over the place. He looked as if he didn't care what happened to them. These weren't the pieces of a normal teenage boy. These were pieces of someone who was dealing with a lot right now.
She had never seen him like this. Wynn didn't talk much, but he wasn't a hermit. He liked spending time with his family, especially the youngest Giuliana. He was a good older brother who knew what his siblings needed before they did.
"Wynn?" He didn't answer. She went into the room, tapping him on the shoulder. He jumped so hard he nearly toppled off his stool. He yanked his headphones off and looked at her. "Hey. What's going on? You didn't come down for dinner."
"I'm not hungry," he said.
Helena frowned. "Mom made your favorite. She said you needed to be ready for your showing next week, and that her lasagna would be just the touch to get your creative juices going."
He shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor. "It's okay."
She looked around the room, closely at the papers to see if she could discern her brother's chaotic emotions. She couldn't. "Wynn?"
He sighed then stared straight at the current work pinned to his easel. "I broke up with Gray."
Helena sat down in an empty chair. She stared at her brother as he looked down at his paint covered hands with a heavy sigh. He was distraught but he wasn't himself. This could explain his moodiness, but it wasn't all. She knew that from experience.
"No offense, big brother, but it didn't seem like you were really dating him to begin with," she said.
He nodded and picked at the blue on his hands. "He just asked me out to keep Jarrod away from me. But nothing is wrong with Jarrod. In fact, I think there is more going on that no one talks about."
"What are you feeling, Wynn?"
He pointed to all the pictures by the window. Helena looked at them noticing they all had some of the same aspects. Abuse, hatred, and pain were evident in the way they were painted. Whatever was going on, Wynn was feeling it deeply.
The last time the younger sister saw this much emotion in her brother was when he came out to their parents. They'd been in Italy, and Wynn had snuck Salvatore into the house after school. He'd bribed her with gelato later if she'd kept it quiet. Leo and Matteo had wanted to go outside in the garden to play so she'd forgotten.
Their father had returned from a business trip and had found Wynn with Salvatore. He'd hauled him downstairs half-clothed as Salvatore had run out the back door. Guilio had yanked Wynn into the kitchen and shoved him into the fridge.
The yelling match that had ensued had been a record breaking one for the Esposito family. Giulio had said he'd never raise a homo son, and Wynn had yelled that it wasn't his choice. Their father had slapped her brother. It had been the one and only time too.
Helena remembered his face vividly, seeing the angry hand print on his usually pale cheek. Wynn had closed himself off after that. He hadn't talked to anyone for several days, even Franco who he'd been closest to. Giulio hadn't laid a hand on his children since then. But the hardest part was Salvatore never returned.
The relationship hadn't been the same since then. The father and son were cordial but they weren't as close. Now that they'd moved countries, things still hadn't gotten any better. Especially after Wynn had started seeing Gray.
Now that was all over. But these paintings had nothing to do with Gray. As far as Helena knew, he was a good guy. Unless he was playing sports, he wasn't a physical person. He didn't push his weight around. No, these weren't about Gray.
Helena didn't know who these were about, but Wynn felt very deeply about all of this. He wouldn't have painted these if he weren't trying to figure things out for himself.
She watched him sit quietly again at his easel. He stared at it, a closed off expression on his face. She knew school was about to be a madhouse, and people were bound to turn on him. Gray was well-loved by everyone. Wynn would be seen as a bad person. She just hoped it wouldn't be a blow to his self-esteem.
~~~~~~~
Wynn skipped school the first day. He knew Gray would have told everyone and he didn't want to see the angry looks from those around him. He spent most of that day locked in his room working. He had an art showing next week, and he wanted to be ready.
Because he hadn't eaten while he was home the first day, Wynn was running a fever one the second. So he stayed home in bed with his head throbbing dully the entire day.
Autumn and Nathan had called and text him, but he didn't answer them or anyone else. He was still wary about discussing anything with anyone. He didn't want to lose what little stability he'd already had. Helena knew so that was enough for him right now.
He stared at the papers and canvases scattered all over his room. Almost fifty pieces lay drying that he'd painted, and there were countless more he'd sketched. He'd lost himself in all of it, giving in to his mental instability that resulted in the mess he had now.
Sighing, he covered his face and tried to sleep. His body and mind were exhausted. He'd made a decision and had stuck with it. But now his mind was racing with all the thoughts of what would be said when he went back.
He wasn't the type of person to have a fight with people, but he wouldn;t back down. He wasn't the type to lead someone on either, and that's how he'd felt about Gray. he felt as if he was leading him on when there wasn't any romance between them, at least on his end. So he didn't want to continue with the ruse.
School was bound to be hell now, but he'd survived hell once before. He was sure he could do it again.
He was half asleep when there was a pattering at his window. Assuming it was raining, he covered his head and tried to go to sleep. The noise wouldn't quit so he got up and looked out.
Jarrod waved through the window. Wynn sighed then got up. He moved some paintings out of the way to open the window. Once it was open far enough for Jarrod to squeeze through, he went back to the bed.
"You didn't come to school and you're not answering the phone," he said.
"I've been sick," Wynn replied. Shakily, he ran a hand through his dirty hair. "Is that why you're here? To check on me?"
"Part of it." Jarrod held up a brown bag and a cup. "I figured you could use a pick me up."
Wynn smiled and took them. "Thanks, but I'm not really hungry."
Jarrod took a risk and sat down on the end of the bed. He understood when Wynn pulled his feet up. He was invading his space. That would make anyone self-conscious.
"Rumor mill has it you and Gray have called it quits. Is it true?" he whispered.
Wynn sighed then nodded. "Yeah. It's true."
"Mmm," the taller boy hummed. "That makes sense then. I wondered why you didn't come to my parents' party last night. I guess I can't fault you on that. I'd be sick too."
Wynn looked at the date. He hadn't realized what the date was when he'd decided to break it off with Gray. Jarrod had invited him to that party, and he'd intended to go. But he'd forgotten about it when he'd asked Gray to split up.
He looked at his phone for the first time in nearly thirty-six hours. Jarrod had called him eight times and had texted nearly thirty. Wynn had ignored all of them.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"It's fine. You didn't miss too much. My dad annoyed the hell out of Gray to see if he would crack on who killed Christian. Gray never answered, but he had Nathan scout the office. I'm not sure what he found. I stay out of the office for a reason."
Wynn understood. On numerous occasions he'd thought Jarrod was abused. The only proof he'd had was the shiner he'd sported several days ago. He would deny it if he asked so he left it alone.
Sighing, he lay down in his bed and looked at Jarrod. The visitor understood and shifted back so he could stretch out. The boy refused to leave. He was going to stay until he was satisfied with what Wynn knew.
"What did you do?" Wynn asked.
A sinister smile overtook the other boy's face. "I may have copied all of my father's files before the party."
Wynn groaned. "Why would you do that? You're the one who implicated us for all of this."
"Because I'm beginning to believe my father had something to do with a lot of things going on in the town. I don't want to know, so I copied it all. I was going to give it to you last night, but you didn't come."
"Now you're making me feel bad."
"That wasn't my intention." Jarrod reached over and ran a hand through Wynn's hair. The other boy let him. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Mmm." The Italian boy grunted. As the other boy continued to stroke his head, his eyes grew heavy. "If I fall asleep, you'll have to leave. I don't want my father to find you here."
Jarrod hummed but didn't confirm or deny his request. He sat on the edge of the bed stroking Wynn's head in a soothing manner.
When the owner of the bed and room fell asleep, Jarrod carefully moved to the head of the bed. Wynn rolled to him, draping his arm across his thighs.
He wasn't the one to tempt authority, but Jarrod knew Wynn didn't have to hide who he was. He was proud to be who he was even though he tried to hide things from his family. He didn't want to see anything happen to Wynn because he was afraid of being with someone he loved.
He became comfortable and soon dropped off to sleep. He was aware of what he'd chosen to bring on Wynn. He just hoped nothing happened too horribly.
~~~~~~~
Giulio knocked on his son's door and waited for a response. Wynn hadn't come downstairs the last three nights, and Helena had told him it was because he'd broken up with Gray Rivers.
Though he'd never agreed with his son's personal choices, he still loved the boy. Nothing would change that, but Giulio didn't have to understand it. As long as the person took care of his son, he wouldn't argue.
He knocked again to no answer. Finally he just opened the door. After all it was his house she had the right to.
The room was a mess with paintings all over the place. He figured Wynn had been so out of tune with what was going on outside his room. He'd always been a talented artist and they had never told him to change that. If he wanted to study art, they would allow him.
Giulio picked his way through the room, staring at all of them in awe before he turned his gaze to the bed. His jaw fell slack when he saw Wynn sleeping with some random boy. But that wasn't what concerned him the most.
The two boys were engulfed in a gentle hue of gold. He had only seen that once before when his parents had been together. They had explained to him that it was hereditary, a thing passed down from the males in the family. There was a legend that went with it, but Giulio couldn't remember it off the top of his head.
Backtracking as silently as he could, Giulio left the room and headed to his study. He had brought the stories with him, but he just had to find it. Maybe he could help explain some things to his son. Then he could be some help in an otherwise helpless situation.