- Friday, November 17th -

I watch in Finnley's direction while he's leaning with his head against the foggy window of the car. He's nervously fiddling with his fingers while he stares at the house he called home for little over 18 years. The same home he fled over a year and a half ago because he simply couldn't be himself. It reminded him of his past and every day he was confronted with the fact his parents did not tolerate gay people.

While he was once his parents' pride, he degraded to nearly nothing for them, for they would not speak of him and they ignored his presence whenever he was near. Now he's back, and obviously struggling to go inside to get Charlie to believe him.

To prove he's not a liar.

Oliver is tapping the steering wheel, softly – casually – humming a tune to a song, every so often sending Finnley a worried look.

We've been in this spot for about half an hour; Finnley moving to go inside twice, both of the times failing because he simply couldn't move out of fear for whatever is waiting behind that door.

He convinced Oliver in no time to drive us here since Finnley had too much to drink – although he is sobering up right now – and I'm not allowed to drive due to the painkillers.

In the time we've been sitting here, it went from cold but sunny to stormy weather; rain pouring down from the sky and thunderclouds collecting above our heads.

"If you want to do it some other time, we can go home." Oliver suggests, now also staring towards the house. His eyes hold a lot of anger whenever he stares at it. I wonder if he's ever been here. I wonder if he's ever seen Finnley's parents or either of his brothers. He knows enough about them, but he doesn't know them himself.

"No, today's the perfect day." Finnley murmurs, slumping down in his seat. "I'm just a bit..." He shrugs, not finishing his sentence.

"Afraid?" I try to fill in the blank.

"No... Or yes, that too. I don't know." He turns around to look at me. "I think I'm not angry enough anymore." He sends me an accusing look, causing me to frown. "You calmed me down too much."

Oliver and I frown in exactly the same time. He did calm down a lot in the last hour. But I figured he would still feel angry and abandoned.

"Honestly, Finn, I think you'll be angry enough when Charlie calls you a liar again." I tell him without sugar coating the truth. He will probably call him a liar.

"Why today?" Oliver asks when Finnley didn't react to my honesty.

"I think it's a suiting birthday-gift for my mom to be presented with the cold hard truth." Finnley shrugs. "It's her I hate the most. Not even Sydney, but mom. She's... the one that broke me."

"And it's her birthday today?"

Finnley nods, taking in a breath. "Let's do this. But you guys have to stay with me. You have to prevent me from walking out before Charlie knows the truth."

"We'll stay with you, we'll make sure he hears the truth," I answer, Oliver nodding in agreement.

"Here goes... well, nothing, because they already hate my guts anyway." Finnley jokingly says, but none of us laughs. Finnley clears his throat, before he finally gets out of the car, Oliver and I following him quickly.

He takes big steps towards the front door. By the time we reach the canopy over the front door, we're soaking wet. He presses the bell, tapping his foot impatiently while we wait for someone to open the door.

After a couple of seconds of silence, there's footsteps closing in on the front door. There's sounds of a lock being turned, before Charlie appears in front of us.

"Finn?" He frowns, a little surprised to see his little brother in front of the door. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"I really don't have time right now. I'm preparing a surprise dinner for mom for when she's home."

"I really want to talk, today. Or actually, right now." Finnley's voice falters a bit, insecurity presenting itself.

Charlie shrugs. "It's mom's birthday. Maybe you can come over another time..."

"Yeah, dude?" Oliver steps in, preventing Charlie from closing the door by placing a firm hand on the door. "You might want to overthink your decision of sending your little brotheraway. Mommy'sbirthday or not." Especially the last part comes out a bit mockingly.

Even I love Oliver right now.

"And who the hell are you?"

"I'm the fellah you loved so much for keeping your brother together when others dropped him like a brick. Oh, those people are your parents, am I right?"

"So, you're Oliver?"

"Hey, you actually listened to Finn!" Oliver mocks him, pushes the door open further with a little force. "That's exactly what you're going to do right now; listen."

Did I mention that I love Oliver right now?

Charlie looks at Oliver with much annoyance, but he doesn't protest the fact Oliver pulled Finnley in behind him, me closing the line before Charlie slams the door shut.

Oliver curiously takes in the hallway and the living room, once we enter it. There's still pictures on the wall, only did they remove all the pictures Finnley was in, which kind of breaks my heart. There's completely no sign of Finnley's existence in here, at all. I know his bedroom upstairs is still the same, but close that door and there's really nothing that would give away the Lund's have a third son. Is it that easy for them to forget about Finnley? Really?

"What is it you want to tell me?"

"I'm not a liar." Finnley mutters. "I want you to believe me."

"Not this again, Finn." Charlie crosses his arms in a defensive manner, while Finnley shuffles his foot awkwardly, refusing to look anywhere else than down towards the floor. "I asked mom and dad and they told me what really happened. I already said so before; you need help."

"I'm not crazy!" Finnley snaps at Charlie in anger. "I'm not making things up."

"Finn, you're literally the only one who claims any of that shit happened." Charlie shakes his head, staring at him with disappointment in his eyes. "And I think mom and dad were right to blame it on a child's wild imagination when you were younger, but you really need help if you still think it happened."

"It did happen." Finnley cries out loudly. "Why won't you believe me? You always believed me..."

"That's until I found out you were not who you pretended to be for years. You did drugs, you acted cheap and sinfully when you decided to sleep around with different men."

"Hey!" I feel something snap inside me when I heard him use the word "cheap". "Don't you dare to insult him like that. You're his brother and for a long time, you've been his best friend. You guys were thick as thieves and you betrayed him by picking the other side."

"He decided to lie, about a lot of things!" Charlie takes in a deep breath, obviously trying to calm himself down.

"Is my stuff somewhere around here?" Finnley mutters, fiddling with his hoodie right now, sending me a careful smile; probably to thank me for defending him.

Charlie looks at me, before he looks at Finnley. "Your room is still the same."

"Can I... go up for a second?"

"I think it would be best for you guys to leave right now." Charlie states, looking towards the clock.

"Did you really just...?" Oliver shakes his head, turning towards Finnley. "It's your room and your stuff. Go if you want to."

Finnley seems doubtful for a second, but eventually he nods, leaving the living room to go upstairs.

"You listen very carefully' – Oliver steps towards Charlie – "you better get your shit together very, very soon, or we've got a problem, do you hear me?"

"Are you threatening me in my own home?"

Oliver chuckles, shaking his head. "It's no threat, it's a promise."

I grin, kinda liking this side of Oliver. But I guess he showed this side before, only now I'm on his side and before, I stood in Charlie's shoes.

"How dare you..."

"You want proof?" Finnley sounds... weird – his emotions absent.

"Proof?" Oliver, Charlie and I speak up in unison. The three of us equally surprised because of his question.

He's holding a small box with a lock, his eyes coldly staring at Charlie. "If you really think I'm lying, you won't mind taking a look inside this box." Finnley swallows hard before he pushes the box in Charlie's hands, turning the key in the lock. "Go ahead. Take a look." He speaks daringly.

"What's in here?" Charlie's eyes are full of doubt and he isn't sounding as certain about any of this anymore.

"Mom and dad sat me down to talk to me, after mom found out." Finnley sniffs his nose, wiping a lost tear away. "Told me it would ruin my future if anyone ever found out what happened. That people would only think of me as the boy who got abused by his sick brother. That I would never get a fair chance to succeed in life because that's all they would ever remember. They would treat me with pity, instead of looking up to me whenever I succeeded in something. They would judge me differently." Finnley's voice is void of emotions, he's again talking about it like he's informing us of today's forecast. Like it's not a big deal.

It's probably his way of not breaking down; block out all emotions.

Charlie swallows, staring down towards the box with shaking hands.

"I wasn't stupid. I might have been seven, I might have been stupid enough to believe the things Sydney said. You know, that it was normal. That he just loved me because he was my brother." Finnley shrugs carelessly. "But mom's reaction woke me up and that conversation made me realise they weren't going to punish him for it. Not in any other way than sending him to boarding school. They just wanted to get rid of him, along with the problem. It's easier to do that, than really face the problems and solve them, right? You know that's what mom always does. She ignores the problems. She keeps pretending to have a perfect little family and as soon as you even dare to think about stepping out of line an inch, your no part of the family anymore. Look at how easily she removed me from her life." Finnley gestures around him, probably talking about the fact there's no sigh of Finnley in here, whatsoever. "So, I stole a couple of pictures just in case... You know..." He seems doubtful of continuing his story. "In case I would start doubting my sanity because they pretended none of it happened..."

Oliver fell into silence, staring at Finnley in admiration, probably exactly the way I look at him right now. Because honestly, I'm pretty proud seven-year-old Finnley was smart enough to secure evidence for the future, in case he needed it.

Charlie, on the other hand, is staring down towards the box in his hands.

"What's the problem, Charlie?" Finnley sneers mockingly. "I'm a liar, right? So, what's holding you back to take a look?"

Charlie's eyes flicker back and forth between Finnley and the box, before he pushes the box back in his hands, shaking his head. "I'm not... I don't need... I can't look."

"Why not?" Finnley stares at the box. "You don't believe me, right? Here's the proof..." That's the moment he starts crying, slumping down on the floor, hugging the box close to him.

"Finn..." I rush towards him, pulling him in my arm. Oliver steps in, taking away the box. "I'm right here."

"I can't get rid of it, Cris." Finnley murmurs, grabbing hold of his hair. "The memories..."

"Did you get your shit together, or what?" Oliver pushes Charlie in a pretty hateful way.

Charlie takes another look at the box, before he kneels down before Finnley, cupping his face. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you..."

That's the moment Finnley completely breaks down into a crying mess.

* * * * *

Oliver wouldn't be Oliver if he didn't come up with a twisted idea for how Charlie could confront their mother. He's got dark humour, gotta give him that.

He wrapped the box and the key in gift paper separately. Then he helped Charlie to finish the so-called "celebration" dinner while he made Finnley and me set the table; for six.

"I can't just join for dinner." Finnley whines, while Oliver is hugging him, caressing his back in a calming way. It would have made me jealous, if it wouldn't be for Oliver that he called me a sweet boyfriend this afternoon. Or the fact he called me to calm Finnley down today.

"You have to be strong for just a little while." Oliver cups his face. "If you really don't want to, nobody's going to force you. But you know it'll throw your mom off guard and it'll ruin her birthday. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I want to ruin her, not specifically her birthday..." Finnley mutters, pushing his face against Oliver's chest, his arms around his waist. "I'm not sure if I can do this. Honestly, today isn't my best day."

"That's why this is perfect." Oliver chuckles, cupping his face. "Vent your anger, remember? Normally, I would let you scream and shout to me, call me names, hit me if you want to. Now it's your mom. Now it's the real culprit in front of you. Make good use of it."

"And I'm right by your side, and Oliver is pretending to be our host so he'll be there too. If you really need to leave, we'll leave."

"It's best if you give the key to mom." Charlie jumps in. "Than she'll know you told me, or maybe she will think I saw the pictures." Charlie's face flushes. "I'm so sorry Finn. But know that I'm never letting you down ever again. We can do this, together."

"Okay, but I'm gonna sit furthest away." Finnley takes in a deep breath, right when there's a sound of a car stopping in the driveway.

"Go, upstairs. I'll call when dinner is ready." Charlie pushes the two of us towards the hallway. We'll hide in Finnley's bedroom to surprise the three of them in the same time.

Oliver winks towards us, before he heads back into the kitchen to finish the food he and Charlie are preparing.

I follow Finnley to his bedroom, silently closing the door behind us. Finnley saunters around, his finger tracing the books on the lowest shelf.

"At least they didn't throw away my stuff."

"I thought you took all your books with you." I chuckle, pulling him in a hug, kissing him on his cheek. "Since you've got lots of books in your own house."

"Oliver bought most of them for me." He whispers. "I left without taking too much because I didn't really have the time to pack boxes. I figured I'd pick stuff up later. But I couldn't get myself to come back here. This is really the first time I'm in here ever since I left." His arms sneak around my waist. "It's weird, because I feel like an intruder, even though this is my room. These are my books, my clothes, my stuff."

"I get it though, because you don't feel welcome, right?"

"Exactly."

"I know you don't think the same way, but it's really their loss Finn."

"I wanna think that way, I just don't feel it. Although I do feel good whenever you're with me."

"Glad to help you in some way."

"I'm really happy I ran into you that night during that college party. I thought I lost you forever and there you were."

"You know, I'm really happy you decided to help me build a sandcastle when we were four."

He grins, leaning in for a quick peck on my lips. "Happy you let me help you, because according to your mom, it was a rare thing for you to play with other kids."

"I guess four-year-old me already fell for your charms."

"Love at first sight?"

"Yeah, but my obliviousness caused it to take a while before I could accept it."

"Idiot."

"Fool."

"Yours truly." He smiles, taking in a deep breath. "Thanks for being here for me, doing this with me."

"I'll do anything to make you happy, or less angry, or whatever you want."

"And I'll try to become happy again. For you are my muse to live life."

"That's sweet." I can't help but smile widely. "I'm happy to be your muse in life." We sit down on his bed, me holding him close, every so often kissing a bit, mostly staring. He's taking in his old room, while I take him and mostly his beautiful eyes in. How his eyes jump from object to object, his facial futures giving away if they remind him of happy or sad times.

"Dinner's ready!" It's Charlie's voice that wakes us up and while the mood was relaxed, it instantly becomes tense again.

"Here goes nothing."