Author's Note: Hello everyone! I'm finally back from my extremely long hiatus! So much has happened over the time that I haven't been updating, which has given me a lot of inspiration for this story.

This chapter focuses mainly on Francis and Gilbert's perspective of Antonio, and I hope it gives you an insight into how the people around you actually care about you, even though it might not seem like they do, because sometimes people don't know how to help, or they are afraid to make the first step. This is slightly inspired by my own experience - I had a friend who self-harmed and while trying to help her, I made a lot of mistakes and approached her wrongly even though my intention was to make her feel better. Which I still blame myself for, but yeah.

I know sometimes it might seem like nobody around you really cares, but believe me, there will always be people who do. And I hope that whoever who reads this will have a great day today, and that something extraordinary wonderful will happen to you. Please remember to take care of yourselves too. I love you all *hugs*


It's going to be a good day. The sun seems to light up the world, and the air smells of sweet freshness. Antonio has been clean for two weeks, and when he gets into his car and starts the engine he even whistles a little.

It's the beginning of a new week, and Antonio's trying to keep positive. He tries every week, but the next day always gets harder to face, and he always finds it a lot more difficult to get up then. When he opened his eyes that morning, the only thing he saw was the familiar whiteness of his ceiling, and for once there was no flashback to moments of falling apart behind his eyelids. Two weeks is a long time, and Antonio feels a small sense of accomplishment. It's not often that he can go for that long a time and in a way there is a sense of pride for himself blooming in his chest.

His mind is quiet, and there are no malevolent voices speaking. He realizes this, lets out a shuddering breath of relief, and presses the pedal. Today is going to be a good day.

At work he's more productive than usual, as he sifts through his letters and whips up responses. He doesn't pay any attention to anything or anyone, and the sound of his hurried typing gives a rhythm to the rapidly spinning gears in his head. Don't stop, he tells himself, as he goes from one letter to another. He throws himself completely into work and doesn't even notice that it's lunchtime until Francis raps his knuckles on his desk, causing him to jump.

"Toni, it's already half an hour into lunchtime," his friend reminds him. Antonio finally looks up from his computer and rubs his eyes. Francis is standing over his desk, elbow resting on the divider and expression overlaid with a hint of concern. For a moment he wonders where Gilbert is, but then he feels two hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently.

"Come on, we've been waiting for you and I'm hungry," Gilbert declares, but when Antonio declines with a "it's alright, I'm not hungry", the former snaps to attention and turns Antonio's swivel chair around until he is subject to both of his friends' worried scrutiny.

"You need to eat," Gilbert states simply, before exchanging uneasy looks with Francis. Antonio hates it when his friends do that. It makes him feel trapped by their ever-present anxiety, as if every move that he makes will be subjected to their screening to decide whether he is doing fine. It makes him feel guilty as well, because he can see that the concern on their faces is real.

Just then, Antonio's stomach lets out a loud rumble and all three of them pause and stare at his abdomen.

Traitor, Antonio curses his stomach, before standing up with a defeated sigh.


On the way to the food court, an unusual silence apart from a few awkward remarks follows the trio, and Antonio knows that the same thing is on Gilbert and Francis' minds. He can feel the weight of it on his mind, and suddenly it strikes him that he has become a burden to his friends. Antonio tries to suppress that thought; but it grows and spreads like poison until he feels like screaming at his friends to just leave him alone because he doesn't deserve people who care for him and he doesn't deserve friends. He doesn't deserve anything, really, but the moment he opens his mouth to tell Francis and Gilbert that they ought to find someone who would be a better friend than he is, another thought occurs. What if they thought he was only trying to sound pitiful? What if they thought he only wanted attention?

At that moment, Gilbert decides to speak. "So… Your therapist called yesterday. She said you haven't been responding to her emails and that you haven't been attending your appointments."

A wave of irritation washes over, but Antonio manages to quell it and answers his German friend nonchalantly. "So you guys have been in contact with her behind my back."

"We're sorry for doing so but… We thought by talking to her we'd be able to better help you," Francis interjects, confirming Antonio's suspicion that the people whom he would call his best friends have been in cahoots with his therapist all this time. The realization makes him snap.

He doesn't really know what made him shout at his friends – for out of all people, Antonio is always the least likely to yell at someone – but he stops abruptly in his steps and bursts out, "Help me? You thought having my own friends working with her secretly would help me? I've told you before – I don't like going to therapy. I don't feel like she understands me, and now it seems like the both of you don't too."

There is a pained smile on Antonio's face, but his eyes meet Francis and Gilbert's in a fiery fashion that is uncharacteristic and that makes the two of them take a step back. Francis' face immediately flashes with hurt, and in an instant he makes a move to apologise, only to get interrupted by Gilbert.

"We care for you, Toni. And I know it's hard to talk about it but how are we supposed to understand you if you don't even let us help you?"

"I already told you, I'm not ready to talk about it."

"Then when will you be ready? That was what you told us last year! You need to stop fucking running away from your problems!"

"Gilbert!" Francis grabs the silver-haired man's arm forcefully, shooting him a warning look. Gilbert's eyes are blazing in anger too, but he pulls his arm away and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"Look, Toni, I'm really sorry if-"

"No, I understand. I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry for being the problematic friend, the one who constantly has issues. You'd be a lot better without me," Antonio says flatly, turning around and walking away. "Go ahead and eat without me. I'm not hungry."

"Antonio, wait!" Francis makes a last attempt to call for his friend, but the latter is already taking firm steps away from them and doesn't seem to be intending to turn back.

"Fuck!" Gilbert kicks the wall beside them, slamming his fists into the hard concrete. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Francis sighs," Gilbert-"

"I messed up again. I just couldn't keep my big mouth shut!" There is desperation in Gilbert's voice, and Francis immediately shushes him because people are beginning to stare. He mouths an apology to the passers-by, clamping a hand on Gilbert's shoulders and urging him to a nearby alley.

"I just… I don't know how to help him, Franny. I really don't know. I don't know what he's going through, and I don't know how to make him feel better. And it kills me inside because I feel like a fucking useless friend. I can't even help him. Mein Gott…" Gilbert runs his hands, knuckles now reddened from punching the wall, over his face, and Francis feels a sting in his chest at the thought of how much their friendship has been put through. All three of them met in high school, and while all of them got different jobs at first – with Francis in fashion design, Gilbert in engineering and Antonio in psychology – they ended up in the same office after Antonio quit his job because Francis and Gilbert decided that it had been worth leaving their jobs too in order to keep a better eye on their friend. But it seemed like no matter what they did, Antonio was still the same.

"Gil, I don't know how to help him either. But we have been trying, haven't we? It pains me to see Toni this way, but I don't want to see you falling apart too," Francis explains, and Gilbert can see the truth in his face because his normally clear blue eyes are marred by the grief that always surfaces whenever they talk about Antonio.

"Do you hear me? We need to stay strong. For him. Yes, I know you can be a bit of a loudmouth sometimes but that doesn't mean you haven't been trying."

"I just… I know I'm always trying to act normally and not make him feel too out of place but…" Gilbert pauses, thinking of how he has been trying to keep up with his obnoxious demeanor to hide the fact that before he steps into the office everyday, he has to close his eyes and count to three because he's afraid that one day Antonio might just not turn up at work anymore. He's afraid that when he calls Antonio, he's not going to get an answer and when he goes to Antonio's house the only things he would find would be an unlocked door and a note addressed to him on the desk. He's afraid that one day, he would lose Antonio.

"You know," Gilbert finally exhales, and lets himself fall back against the wall. "I miss those days when we were happier."

"Believe me, Gil. I do, too." And Francis means what he says. When he first saw Antonio, the Spaniard had entered class late and had muttered apologies over and over again to the teacher, but there was something about him that just seemed to make the whole room light up. Maybe it was that huge smile of his, or the spark in his emerald eyes whenever he spoke about his passions, but Francis found a friend in him and so did Gilbert. The three of them had stuck together – happy Antonio, loud Gilbert and flirtatious Francis – as they had been known in high school, and remained friends as adults.

Antonio always loved helping people, and when he got the job as a counselor everyone thought he'd be happy. But they were wrong, because one day he told Francis and Gilbert on the phone that he didn't want his job anymore. Francis had been afraid that Antonio would get too involved with other people's problems – because that was how he was. Passionate, kind, and ever ready to throw himself into other people's worlds in order to help them. Francis thought that it was just his own paranoia that Antonio's kindness would break him, but it turned out to be the truth.

Antonio got more and more tired, and the light in his eyes started to falter. Francis and Gilbert had advised him to take a break, but he refused to. Until one of his colleagues and closest friends, Emma, committed suicide. Antonio had been utterly devastated, and he had locked himself in his house for days. Everyone had been incredibly worried about him, and it was only after countless visits from his friends and days of keeping to himself that he finally told them that he was feeling better. Francis and Gilbert had been stupid enough to believe him when they heard that he was going to get over Emma's death, because even when they got their new jobs, an accidental view of the band aids on Antonio's wrist one day told them that he was less than fine.

"I'll say sorry to him later," Gilbert stands back upright, slipping an arm around Francis' shoulders. "We'll give him some time to be alone for now, I guess."

Gilbert has always been one to recover quickly, but Francis can still see the insecurity in his eyes. Yet, when Gilbert turns to face him and speaks in a voice that has a hint of newfound determination, Francis is secretly relieved that he has Gilbert – who beneath his impulsive surface is actually much stronger than Francis himself can ever be – to rely on.

"But I don't care. No matter what it takes, we're going to find a way to help him."


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