The grand hall echoed with joyous laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses as Lucien stood at the periphery of his father's wedding reception, hands in his pockets. Dressed in a tailored suit, he watched the revelry unfold, an observer amidst the celebration. This was not his first encounter with his father's new family, in fact he had met Marie, Troy, and Maisy many times before. But there was one person conspicuously absent from the festivities—the mysterious Blaise Laurent.
He wondered why his father and stepmother had chosen not to speak of him. He had only ever seen a few photographs of Blaise. In those photos Blaise was very young, just a child, but his eyes were striking. Whenever Lucien looked at those photographs, he wondered what Blaise would look like now.
Lucien thought back to the one time he'd ventured to broach the subject. "Marie, may I ask you about Blaise? I have seen his pictures around the house, but we have never spoken of him."
Marie's eyes clouded with a hint of melancholy. She sighed, her gaze drifting momentarily to the photograph clutched in Lucien's hand. "Lucien, there are some stories that are not easy to tell, wounds that run deep. Blaise is a chapter of our family's history that we have chosen to keep locked away."
Sensing her reluctance to delve further into the subject, he had never attempted asking her about him again. But now he realized he had a stepbrother whom he had never met, and felt strange about it.
Lucien's attention was momentarily diverted as his stepmother, Marie, glided past him, her radiant smile lighting up the room. Her arm interlaced with his father's. They moved with an effortless grace, the perfect picture of wedded bliss. The sight tugged at Lucien's heart. He was glad to see his father happy again at last.
As the night carried on, Lucien enjoyed the company of his new family. He spoke to step-aunts and step-uncles that he had never met. Maisy and Troy's grandfather, a dignified old man who had traveled to four continents in his working days, was especially interesting.
But Lucien could really only go so long in a crowded room before a sense of suffocation, of being watched, seemed to set in. He needed some air right away.
Lucien slipped away from the lively dance floor, seeking respite from the overwhelming revelry. The air outside the main hall was crisp, and he gratefully gulped it down. Going outside into the gardens might be even better. His steps led him instinctively to a nearby closet, to gather his jacket.
As Lucien reached for the brass doorknob, he barely had a chance to catch his breath before the unexpected occurred. The door swung open with a sudden creak, revealing a disheveled figure within.
Lucien's eyes widened in surprise as Blaise Pascal emerged from the shadows, his clothes askew and a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Before Lucien could utter a single word, an older man, also buttoning up his shirt, peeked out from behind Blaise. He saw Lucien and his eyes went round.
"It's not what you think," the man said, then darted out from behind Blaise and vanished into the darkness. The door swung shut behind him, leaving Lucien and Blaise alone in the hall in front of the closet.
Blaise's gaze met Lucien's, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Lucien's heart raced as he found himself caught in the captivating intensity of Blaise's striking eyes, eyes so pale they were tinged with violet. Pale skin, ruby-red lips, and ash blond hair tumbling artfully, unstyled, around his face — Blaise exuded an allure that was irresistible to Lucien.
Blaise smirked, and his voice dripped with a seductive tone as he spoke, breaking the silence. "Well, what a surprise. Another curious soul stumbling upon my little secret. Do you want a taste of me too?" Blaise's words were laced with a challenge, a provocative invitation that hung in the air between them.
Lucien's mind reeled. He understood a little better now why Blaise had been kept hidden, his existence shrouded in silence. Blaise was both charismatic and dangerous, a force that stirred desires both forbidden and intoxicating.
Blaise tilted his head, a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, cat got your tongue? Why, I think you're curious about me." He shrugged with a knowing smile and added, "If you truly want a taste of what I offer, who am I to deny you?"
Lucien's heart pounded in his chest as he confronted the allure and danger that emanated from Blaise. He knew he had two choices — to surrender to the enigmatic seduction that lay before him, or to resist it.
Gathering his resolve, Lucien straightened his posture. "You must stop that. This is entirely inappropriate. You don't even know my name, do you?"
Blaise's eyes danced with a newfound curiosity, as if he had stumbled upon an unexpected challenge. "No, I don't know your name. To be honest, I don't remember that man's name either." He eyed Lucien up and down, then said, "You're particularly handsome, aren't you? Well, then, maybe I could take the time to get to know you better."
Lucien's resolve waivered. Blaise was just his type, like something out of a dream. And here he was, offering himself to Lucien, no strings attached.
But if he accepted, it would surely be a disaster. Lucien didn't want a one- night stand; he only wanted something real. Blaise would just break his heart. He couldn't help but recall the painful memory of his expulsion from the Catholic high school, the cruel betrayal and the lingering stigma that had haunted him for years.
Memories of that fateful day surged forward, unwelcome yet vividly present. He remembered the fellow student he fell had over heels for, the exhilaration of finding that the boy returned his affection, their relationship blossoming in secret corners and stolen glances.
But fate had a cruel twist in store for them. The thrill of their clandestine romance was shattered when a teacher discovered them entwined in a passionate kiss. The teacher grabbed them by their collars and dragged to the headmaster's office.
In a shocking turn of events, the boy Lucien had admired, with whom he had shared stolen moments of tenderness, chose self-preservation over honesty. He feigned innocence, painting Lucien as the instigator, claiming that he had been coerced into the kiss.
The betrayal struck Lucien like a sharp blade to the heart. His pleas of innocence fell on deaf ears as the school administration, swayed by the fabricated story, made the decision to expel him. The weight of injustice settled upon Lucien's shoulders, and he was left alone to navigate the aftermath.
The repercussions echoed beyond the confines of the school's walls. Lucien was faced with the arduous task of smoothing things over with his father, explaining the events that had led to his expulsion. The disappointment etched on his father's face cut deep, but with time, understanding gradually replaced judgment, and they found a a new school for Lucien.
Transitioning to a different educational institution was not without its challenges. Lucien's social anxiety, already present to some extent, intensified after the traumatic incident. He found himself grappling with self-doubt, struggling to form new connections and maintain a sense of belonging.
Throughout his university years, Lucien struggled to balance his academic pursuits and his internal battles. Whenever he grew closer to other students, he'd inevitably start to panic, thinking on how he was betrayed in the past. And what if his new friends found out about his persuasion? In the end, he'd always pull away.
Yet, in this moment, faced with the enigmatic Blaise, Lucien found a flicker of sympathy within his heart. He understood the weight of carrying hidden desires and secrets. Blaise was like him in his preferences, yet instead of hiding it, Blaise wore it openly, inviting the disdain of society in. Lucien found it impressive actually. Blaise, despite looking so delicate, must have had really thick skin to withstand it all.
Drawing a deep breath, he mustered his resolve and spoke softly "I won't tell anyone about it, don't worry."
Blaise's expression shifted, a fleeting moment of gratitude flashing across his face before he let out a teasing laugh. "Oh, Lucien, it's hardly some secret," he said. "But I appreciate your discretion nonetheless."
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Blaise's sister Maisy. Her carefully styled blond curls bounced as she skipped down the hall. "Lucien, your father is about to cut the cake—"
She froze upon seeing her long-lost brother standing there. Her voice trembled as she stammered out, "Blaise? You're - you're back?"
Blaise interjected, his voice playful, "Ah, it would seem I am back. I suppose I should make my presence known?"
The sister's eyes widened, uncertainty flickering across her face before she turned and hastily fled from the scene. Lucien watched her retreat, a knot of anticipation and apprehension tightening within him.
Lucien decided he no longer needed the breath of fresh air he had sought moments ago. He followed in Blaise's wake as Blaise walked down the hall after his sister. They stepped back into the resplendent ballroom where the revelers turned to stare, their gazes fixed upon Blaise.
Whispers filled the air as guests exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued by Blaise's sudden appearance.
With each step he took, Lucien braced himself for the uncharted territory that awaited him. He was taking a risk being seen next to Blaise. The onlookers' stares, once filled with surprise, morphed into a mixture of fascination and unease. Blaise's reputation, it would seem, preceded him.
But Lucien wanted to untangle Blaise's mysteries, and find out why he was so drawn to him. The dance of intrigue and uncertainty had only just begun.