It was the sixteenth.

I'd gone to the entrance of the trail to get Romano - I'd started calling the place 'our spot' - but he hadn't been there today. It was only noon, so I still had a few hours to spare before it was time to go to the dreaded café. I found myself looking forward to that less and less. I'd been excited at first; I could still remember the feeling of joy all those days ago, but it was all gone now. I knew that there was something I should've admitted to myself a long time ago already, and tonight was the night that it would finally happen. Even if I wasn't ready.

My gaze fell on the envelope Romulus had given me the previous day. It was still sealed. I had been too afraid to open it and face the truth, but I felt that I didn't need to. I could guess what was inside. Instead, I picked up the paper and stuck it into the bag that I carried. It was a satchel, though Romano liked to call it a purse the couple of times he had seen it on our dates, as I liked to think of them as, though I'd probably get punched in the face for saying it out loud.

I pulled my phone out and called Francis, who answered after the first few rings.

"Bonjour Antonio."

"Francis," I said urgently. "I need some advice."

"What is it?" he asked. I knew that it wasn't often that I sounded so serious when calling him for something.

"What do you do when your brain tells you to do one thing, but your heart tells you to do another and you don't know which one's right?"

Francis was silent for a moment. Then he sighed. "I can't answer that, Antonio. This sounds like a decision that you'll have to make for yourself."

I was getting desperate. "Come on, there must be something you can tell me? I don't know what to do…"

"All I can say is, follow your heart but don't forget your brain. I trust that whatever you do will be the right choice. You're smarter than you think, Toni."

x x x

It seemed like no time at all had passed, and then I was looking at the clock and seeing 11:14 PM flashing back at me in bright red. I got into my car with a stiff upper lip and dropped my bag into the passenger seat, sticking the key in the ignition and beginning the silent drive into town.

I pulled up in front of Tazza Di Joe at 11:32 PM with a sinking heart. The sign in front of the café said that it was open until midnight, so I parked my car and entered the building. Romano was nowhere in sight.

It was a quaint little place. Its design reminded me of that of a classic American diner. The floor was made up of checkered black and white tiles and there were a few reddish-brown booths by the windows. Stools of the same colour stood in a line at the front counter, made to look like a bar. Glass cases full of all sorts of different pastries and deserts covered most of said counter, and there was a large chalkboard with the menu written down on it at the very back.

When Romano had told me about the place, all he had said was that I'd find Lovino here. He hadn't said where, and since I didn't immediately spot anyone that could possibly resemble the Italian, I figured that he was somewhere else. My gaze drifted to the spiralling black stairs near the corner of the café. They led to the apartment upstairs. I decided I'd try my luck.

Since there seemed to be only one person working and they were busy with a handful of customers, it wasn't difficult for me to slip up the stairs unnoticed. I soon reached the next floor and was presented with a door.

I stood in front of it for a while, wondering if I should actually knock. I could get in trouble, since I probably wasn't supposed to be up there, but in the end, I did so. Just when it seemed that no one would answer, I heard rushed footsteps and soon the door swung open.

I held my breath. There, in front of me, was a boy quite shorter than I was. He had bright green eyes and a curl in his brown hair, though it was a lot lighter than I'd been expecting. It was more of a light shade of caramel.

He also looked a lot younger than I'd thought. Didn't Romulus say that he was supposed to be turning eighteen? This boy couldn't have possibly been over fifteen.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to hope. I took in a deep breath and asked the dreadful question. "Lovino?"

I was chanting 'Please say yes' in my head as a confused look came on his face. "No," he said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Marcello."

I was about to protest, try to get him to admit it and accuse him of trying to go by a false identity, but who was I kidding? The moment I saw him I knew that it couldn't possibly be Lovino. I sighed.

"I can't believe you were looking for Lovino," Marcello said, an amused look on his face.

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "But don't you know he's been gone for years?"

"Sí," I sighed again. This was starting to become a regular thing. "I was hoping that you meant you actually knew him."

"I suppose I do, in a way," Marcello admitted, shrugging. "He's my cousin."

"Have you seen him lately?"

"I can't remember the last time I saw him. I was only two when he vanished off the face of the earth. Everything I know about him, I've been told. Why?"

"A few days ago, a friend of mine told me that I'd find him here on this night. You know, you look a lot like him. My friend, I mean. You have any more cousins, siblings?" I asked.

"No, not in the area, apart from my cousins Lovino and Feliciano."

"Ah, alright." I was about ready to give up.

"What's your friend's name?" Marcello questioned, leaning on the doorframe.

I hesitated. I knew what was coming. "Romano Porsche."

Marcello snorted. "That's dumb."

"So I've heard."

"But anyway," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I've never heard of anyone with that name."

I glanced at my watch and my eyes widened. The time had passed a lot faster than I'd thought.

"Hey, what time is it?" Marcello asked, noticing the gesture.

"11:54," I informed him.

"Yikes," he said. "I'd better go then. My parents will be back soon and will be mad if I'm not asleep yet."

I nodded, and after we had said a quick goodbye, he retreated into the apartment, leaving me standing alone in the small space in front of the door. I unbuttoned my bag and pulled out the envelope. My hand shook as I stared at it, slowly walking back down the spiralling stairs. Now was as good a time as ever, so, taking a deep breath, I tore it open and pulled out what was inside.

There were only two photos in the envelope, and I didn't even have to glance at the second one to instantly know who the person was. There, in the tiny photograph with 'Lovino Vargas, age 5' scribbled on the back, staring at me with large eyes, was Romano.

A strange surge of emotion coursed through me. Anger? Disappointment? I couldn't tell. Of course, I had been suspecting this for a long time; it was the matter of accepting it that bothered me.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and even in the darkness outside, I spotted a familiar hair of reddish-brown hair through the window. I pushed open the door with more force than necessary, walking around the table he had chosen as he was facing away from the café and hadn't yet seen me. He glanced up as I stopped in front of him. He didn't seem surprised.

"Hey, Lovino." I said, slamming the two photos down onto the table. He spared them a short glance, appearing uninterested.

"I see you've finally figured it out?" he murmured. Something in my heart ached at his completely indifferent tone. I hadn't seen or heard from him since the awkward incident the previous day when he stomped off afterwards, and now he was back to acting like this. But I suddenly understood what he had meant when he had cut himself off.

"You think I'm gonna let you do that, only to later-"

'-turn me in when you find out who I really am..?'

"I've kind of suspected it all along." I said, sitting down across from him.

He hummed. "And yet you've said nothing."

"I didn't want to jump to conclusions."

"I thought I'd dropped enough hints for you to guess. I suppose not."

"Why didn't you say anything then?" I questioned, the words coming out with more force than I'd intended. Roma- 'No, it's Lovino now,' - didn't seem to notice, however.

He shrugged. "I've hardly ever lied to you Antonio. Pretty much everything I've told you from the start has been the truth. You've simply misunderstood."

"But disregarding that. For over ten whole years, you were right here. You knew about your grandfather and everything, but you didn't do anything about it. Why didn't you come back?" I paused and took in a deep breath, then added as an afterthought, "Why did you leave?"

"Shh," Lovino hushed, waving the questions off. He glanced behind him, and, looking as well, I saw that he was watching a large clock on the café's wall. A few seconds ticked by and then the clock struck twelve. It let out a loud chime, the noise reverberating around the area and echoing several times. I thought I could feel the sound bouncing around in my head.

Lovino turned to me with a manic grin on his face. "Happy birthday to me," he announced as he uncapped a red marker I hadn't noticed and added a final tally to the twelve black ones.

Early the next morning, I received a frantic phone call from Feliciano.

"Antonio! My grandpa is dead!"

Muahaha! I leave you with a nasty cliffhanger!

Thanks to idioticwrites for helping out~ Please review ;3