Diego

I watched as Enzo talked with Noah, trying to gauge his emotional state without being too obvious about it. There was something about his demeanor that felt off—a stillness and calm that seemed at odds with the gravity of the situation.

I leaned in closer to Elijah, keeping my voice low so that Enzo wouldn't overhear. "Do you think he's actually upset but just pretending like he's not?" I asked, my brow furrowed with concern.

Elijah shrugged, his eyes never leaving Enzo's face. "How can I say it, man? Look at his expression. It's completely unreadable," he replied, a hint of frustration in his tone.

I nodded, studying Enzo more closely. He wasn't showing any of the usual signs of anger or distress that I would have expected after the confrontation with Ava and Rex. If anything, he seemed almost eerily calm, his features smooth and impassive.

"He doesn't even look angry," I mused, more to myself than to Elijah. "That's weird. Normally, he'd be fuming by now."

Elijah glanced at me, his expression skeptical. "Yeah, it's strange," he agreed, his voice tinged with suspicion. "You don't think he's planning something, do you? Like some kind of revenge?"

I shook my head, uncertain. "I don't know, man. With Enzo, it's always hard to tell what's going on in his head."

Just then, Enzo's gaze snapped over to us, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What?" he asked, his voice sharp with impatience.

I felt a jolt of panic, wondering if he had overheard our conversation. But I forced myself to stay calm, shrugging my shoulders in a show of nonchalance. "Nothing, bro. Just talking about the crazy day, that's all," I said, trying to keep my tone light and casual.

Elijah leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know Enzo is a master at keeping shit on the DL, right?" he said, his eyes darting over to where Enzo was standing. "Dude never breathed a word about his Papa beating on him until last year. Even when we were little, he hid that shit like a goddamn pro. Can you believe that?"

I nodded, feeling a twist of unease in my gut. It was true—Enzo had always been tight-lipped about his home life, never letting on that anything was wrong even when the signs were right there in front of us. It made me wonder what else he might be keeping from us, what other secrets he had locked away behind that impenetrable facade.

Elijah's next question hit me like a punch to the stomach. "Do we actually know him? Like, for real?"

I didn't say anything; I couldn't bring myself to voice the doubts that had been creeping in at the edges of my mind. Enzo was like a brother to me, someone I loved. The idea that there might be parts of him that I didn't know—that he might be hiding things from me—was almost too much to bear.

"Did I say something wrong? You look mad stressed, bro," Elijah said, his eyes boring into me as if he were trying to read my mind.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Nah, it's just... he's my best friend, you know? I don't like thinking that maybe I don't know him as well as I thought."

"Yeah, I feel you. If Noah was hiding shit from me, I'd be pretty messed up about it too. But that dude's an open book—I even know what color underwear he's rocking each day," Elijah said.

I stared at him, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline. "Bro, what the fuck? How do you even know that? Actually, you know what, never mind. I definitely don't need to know what color Enzo's drawers are."

"Well, Noah and I always video call in the morning, so sometimes he's in his boxers getting ready to come to school. Sometimes it's actually annoying. Don't tell him," Elijah said, and I couldn't help but laugh.

The image of Noah stumbling around his room half-dressed while Elijah watched on video chat was too funny not to react to. "Bro, that's both hilarious and way too much information," I said, shaking my head. "But don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I won't tell Noah that you're secretly checking out his morning routine."

Elijah punched me in the arm, but he was grinning too. "Hey, it's not like I asked for the show. Dude just can't seem to keep his clothes on when we're talking."

I knew Noah and Elijah were pretty close, even though they always seemed to be fighting about something. It was like they couldn't live without each other, always having some inside joke or shared experience to talk about.

But in their friendship, I had noticed that it was usually Elijah who was the one hiding things, keeping parts of himself locked away. I couldn't quite understand why he did it.

Manuel

I waited for Enzo outside the gate as usual, leaning against the car and watching the students stream out of the school. As soon as he appeared from the gate, I knew something was off. He had a distant look in his eyes.

"What's with that look?" I asked, pushing myself off the car and walking toward him.

"What?" he replied, trying to sound like an innocent boy. Well, that meant there was definitely something bothering him.

"You don't want to talk about it with me?" I asked, opening the door for him. He got in but said nothing, settling into the seat and staring out the window.

"Okay then. Let's go home and talk about it," I said, closing the door and walking to the driver's side. He remained silent as I started the engine and pulled out.

The drive home was uncomfortably quiet. I glanced at Enzo every now and then, trying to gauge his mood. He seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed together.

"Baby," I said, looking at him through the rearview mirror.
"Mmm?" he responded, still not meeting my eyes.
"You okay?" I asked, my concern growing with each passing moment.
"Yeah," he said, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window.

We came home, and I went to Enzo's room with him, as I did most days. If Pedro or Louis were around, I wouldn't go to his room since they didn't like it. But today, they were nowhere to be seen, so I followed Enzo to his room, carrying his backpack for him. Of course, he was my boss, and I always tried to make things easier for him.

Once inside, I placed his backpack on the floor near his desk and turned to face him. Enzo sat down on the edge of his bed, his gaze downcast. I could tell that whatever was bothering him weighed heavily on his mind.

"So, say it," I urged after we settled in.
"Just something," he replied, avoiding my gaze.
"Something that you can't even tell me?" I pressed, trying to understand what was bothering him.
"I don't know how to say it," he mumbled, starting to remove his clothes. "I want to take a shower," he said, changing the subject.

I nodded, realizing that he needed some time to collect his thoughts. "Okay then. I'll wait until you come out," I said, settling onto the couch.
"Why?" he smirked, a glimmer of his usual playful self resurfacing.
"Just because," I shrugged. "I want to make sure you're alright."

"Are you scared I'll try to do something stupid like before because I'm sad?" Enzo said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"So you are sad," I replied, looking into his dark eyes as he stood before me, his clothes discarded on the floor. He looked down, avoiding my gaze.

"Look at me," I said, gently lifting his chin until his eyes met mine. "Say it to Papa," I encouraged softly.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Papa. I promised you I'd never do that again," he said, his voice trembling slightly.

"That's not the question, Enzo," I said, my heart aching at the pain I saw in his eyes. "I want to know what's making you sad."

"I said it's nothing. You know I'm your boss, so you have to listen to me," he asserted, trying to exert his authority.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt to use his power over me. "Okay, boss," I said, playing along with a smile. "May I at least stay in your room until you come out?"

"Okay," he agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

I waited on the couch in Enzo's room until he came out of the shower.
"Are you still here?" he asked, surprised, as he whipped his hair with the towel.
"Yeah," I said, offering a small smile.
"You're still scared, aren't you?" he said, looking at me intently.

And to be honest, I was still scared that he might try to do something stupid like before. Yes, he had promised me. But how could I know for sure? I didn't want to take any risks when it came to his well-being.

Enzo sat on his king-size bed against the headboard, putting one hand under his head. "Okay, I'll tell you what happened, but don't laugh," he said. His hair looked even darker after the shower.

"I won't laugh," I assured him, wondering what he was about to reveal.

"Someone bullied me today. Not just one person, but two," he admitted after thinking for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on his lap.

"Why would I laugh at that?" I asked, surprised by his concern.

"Because it's embarrassing. Getting bullied is embarrassing. Only weak and dumb people get bullied," he said angrily, his voice rising slightly.

"I got bullied too when I was your age. Do you think I'm weak and dumb?" I asked, looking directly at him.

Enzo met my gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—anger, frustration, and a hint of vulnerability. He said nothing for a moment, then looked away. "You're not weak," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"And neither are you," I said gently. "Why did they bully you?"

"For a stupid reason," he mumbled, picking at a loose thread on his comforter.

"Tell me, Enzo," I encouraged, my curiosity piqued.

"Because no one came to the parent-teacher meeting. And no one ever comes to the parent-teacher meetings. They said my parents don't love me, which is true, and some say my Mama ran away with another man, and that's why there are no photos of her in our house," Enzo explained, his voice tinged with hurt and anger.

I felt a pang of guilt and sadness hearing his words. "How do they even know there are no photos of Mama in the house?" I asked, wondering how his classmates had gotten that information.

"Pam told them. It was Pam's boyfriend who bullied me. But Ava is the one who started it. She's jealous of me for getting better grades than her," Enzo explained, filling in the details.

I sat beside his bed and cuddled him. "Are you sad because no one came to your parent-teacher meeting and they said nasty things about your Mama?" I asked.

"No, I'm upset because I got bullied," he said.

"Oh, is that so?" I said, surprised.

"I know you love me. I don't care about others," he said. I felt happy hearing him say that, to be honest.

"Yes, baby. I love you," I said.

"I love you too, Papa," he said.