"Si fa presto a cantare che il tempo sistema le cose. Si fa un po' meno presto a convincersi che sia così."(1)

Three months. That was how long he had been able to stay away from Everwood. Quite pitiful since he sold his stuff thinking he wouldn't come back. He almost despised his stubbornness in this moment. Really.
There had been that sudden and surprising marriage that drove him back to the city, and he soon understood that no matter where he went, his problems will hunt him restlessly.
Such a great discovery, wasn't it?
Though the travel throughout Europe had not been completely useless.

It had blissful just to walk down the boulevards, observing the history that was radiating from every building. He finally could take a breath from his troubles, even if a little voice in his head said it had been very selfish to leave Everwood when his best friends needed him the most.
Anyhow, in a hundred days it was not like he had seen many places. Just London, Paris and Milan. But he made some good friends…Or interesting approaches to other human beings, since it was nothing so deep. He had their e-mail address, yet he doubted he would write them. They shared some good moments, which seemed unforgettable and wonderful while they were living them, but that was it. Once passed they didn't look as meaningful as before.
Wonderful, he was definitely rambling.
At least he could think straight now, see everything from another perspective. Even if it hurt exactly the same way.

He wanted to protect him.
Right. You hide a son from someone because you want to keep them safe. Safe from what? A family?
Yeah, he could understand that a child would mean a whole lot of responsibilities and it would have made his life a mess just when he was about to fulfil his dream and being a Julliard student.
Though he would have preferred to meet his former girlfriend, and decide TOGETHER what to do.
After all, keeping everything hidden from him had lead to the same results: the Julliard had evolved from the stage dream to become a utopia and he didn't now what to do of his life anymore.
Well, he surely wasn't going to live with his father again. No way. As his new friends advised him to, he was going to spent the littlest time there, as long as his new job as piano teacher was going to be enough remunerative to allow him to rent a flat.
Delia was going to be happy about having the house and her father attention all for herself. Even if she was crying when he left it was likely that she got used and delighted to be the only child in the house.
He contemplated the option of telling her what was going on in his life, being the only one left he still cared about, but then realised that as cruel as it could sound…It was none of her business. It really didn't involve her that much. She could still wait a couple of years to know she could have been an aunt. Beside that, he couldn't offer her anything so it would have been foolish and just selfishly revengeful to reveal truths that could undermine her everyday life with Andy. And then, like he told her…It still hurt too much. It wasn't about her; it was him that had to be ready.
The matter he questioned himself the most on was what the heck he was going to do with his life. He could apply for another University with a good music department, though he felt resentment not just for Colorado but for the whole continent. Nowhere seemed far enough from his father. And from Amy.
Not long before he left to Europe he had made the most foolish decision he had made in his life (after the one of giving both the auditions): breaking up with her.
Now he couldn't just go and tell her "Listen Amy, I've been such a jerk that night not to understand how you really meant everything in my life." Even if he rephrased the sentence in the most romantic ways possible, it wasn't going to work. And he had no rights to.
Yet he couldn't leave now. Kyle could certainly find a lot of better teachers, but he liked the boy. So stubborn, rebel, yet sensitive and fragile…And completely in love with the piano. He reminded Ephram so much of himself, and he was growing such an admiration for his skills that he wasn't certainly going to betray his faith in him disappearing like the filthiest thief.
When Kyle would come and told him that he had nothing left to learn from Ephram. Well, then the young Mr Brown could start wondering where to go and what to do.
Until then it was completely useless, and fruitlessly tiring what to do in the next five years.

It wasn't like he could change his way of living in a fortnight but he knew he HAD TO learn how to leave day by day, without any great plans and rubbish like that.
Otherwise he would have gone mad.
And that was why he was knocking on Bright's door.

While he was waiting he let himself be carried a little more by his thoughts.

The piano didn't made his insides clench and hurt like before, there weren't that waves of anger and nausea like three months before. It was a good evolution. "Then you have just to turn into a hot chick and seduce those old frustrated Julliard men into giving you another audition." Vassilj commented the txt message he had just sent him, and he could picture in his mind he was getting a good slap on his nape by the fiery Nora. He didn't expect him to reply, so it put him in quite a good mood. Well, less sulking that an hour before.

"Oi, hang on…I'm coming!" He heard Bright sleepy voice protesting vehemently. Maybe knocking on people's door at eight in the morning wasn't such a good idea. Now the Abbott eldest child was his best friend, but that didn't mean he couldn't slam the door in his face in annoyance. He would have. It was Sunday morning, after all.
"Ephram, what the fu…" The foresaid Ephram immediately put a finger on his lips, silencing Bright. Then, he stepped in and looked around. It wasn't long before his friend started babbling again, but Ephram wasn't really paying attention.
"Nice room you have there." He said, in a completely absent-minded way. Then, realising the older boy was looking at him as if he was growing a second head on his neck, he spoke "I-..I'm not here to ask you to live together, Bright. Don't freak out like that."
"What brought you here then, mate?" He sat old the old small couch his father has brought him from the dusty attic of their house. He watched the bare wall, watching an invisible television. He motioned for Ephram to sit beside him, but he just stood there fidgeting, his hands shaking with nervousness. For a moment Bright really feared he was going to confess that in reality he was gay and had fallen in love for him(after all, to give up the girl of his dreams he wasn't normal for sure…) but the words that came out of his mouth were totally different.
The Narciss in Bright was quite disappointed.

"I need your help. I want to be unpredictable, careless, superficial and impulsive just like you." Ephram smiled slightly as he told him his request.
"I'm not like that Brown!" Bright protested, though he returned the smile. "I just love to have the time of my life. Just enjoying every little moment, you see? My mom's sickness made me realise it even more clearly, you can't waste even the meaningless second in your life. You should learn to live just like the great Bright Abbott, Ephram."
"Teach me, then."

End of prologue

(1) Ligabue - "L'odore del sesso"
It's something like "It takes nothing to sing that time will settle everything, it takes a little more to convince yourself that that's the way it is."
(2) As you would have obviously realised, English isn't my first language. I spell checked it with Word, but there might be some massive grammar mistake (I really hope it's not like that). If you find any please report them to me.
It would be wonderful to find a beta-reader, but unluckily I've no friends who speak English as their first language available to correct my pieces.
(3) If you like this little teaser, I will work hard to finish the first chapter (exploring the nice pairing Ephram/Bright, no slash hints ;P) for next week.