30

Francis got a short haircut. Antonio is confused about this at first, and Arthur is surprised. He gives Francis a compliment about the new hair, but at the same time worries because of such a drastic change. Arthur, suspicious, asks what spurred this drastic change. Francis announces that he was accepted into the symphonic band, to which the three rejoice. Francis reveals that since Antonio had been engaged with Roderich, he decided that he should do some changes too. It's so that he could be independent sooner so that Antonio can move in with Roderich.

Antonio admits that he knows he can't live with Francis forever since he's engaged to Roderich. Knowing that Francis would be sadder the longer Antonio started, Arthur talks to Francis, offering to move in with Francis. Francis accepts but warns Arthur that before they do, they need to accept that they're both flawed and that being closer together can't solve all of their problems. Arthur accepts. He also offers for Francis to talk with Dylan.

Francis talks with Dylan on the phone. Dylan had similar experiences, feeling like he had to pull his family together after Arthur left. Francis finishes the call feeling supported and hopeful. Meanwhile, Gilbert listens from outside the apartment and realises that Antonio and Francis functioned well without him.

31

Timeskip. Many things happen. Francis decides to reject the offer to the band. Arthur and Francis do eventually dye their clothes. Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert talk about how Antonion may be moving away, and they talk about how some distance is needed between them. However while Gilbert is invited to this talk, he watches from the sidelines. While on an outing with Arthur and Antonio, Francis states that no one needs to feel as if they have to heave the weight of the world on their shoulders. Francis asks for Frank for more financial support if Antonio ever needs to leave, though Frank is reluctant. Frank eventually gets a job as a waiter at the bakery.

Gilbert announces that since the three had Arthur, he isn't needed anymore, and he had a feeling he wasn't welcomed anymore, anyway.

"People change. It's natural. And they come and go. I'm no use to you anymore. I should just leave."

"Gilbert, no," said Francis. "I was never mad at you. I forced myself to tolerate you, and I did it to feel better for myself, regardless of how that'd affect anyone. So if anyone should leave, it should be me."

Gilbert gave a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I should've realised all this sooner."

Antonio leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Gilbert. I was too caught up with my own problems to notice yours. Is that why you've been absent lately?"

Gilbert glanced up. "You've only noticed now?"

An uncomfortable silence rang through the room.

Francis feels disappointed knowing that a small part of him is ready for Gilbert to move on, but he objects to Gilbert leaving so soon, especially since Gilbert had barely dropped a word about it. The next week, no trace of Gilbert's belongings remains. When Francis called him, the call went straight to voicemail.

Soon it is Arthur's birthday and they celebrate it with a cake from the bakery, and they eat cake in peace.

To Gilbert,

I decided that in the end, we were all at fault...

(Rip.)

To Gilbert,

We are friends once, but now we have grown apart...

(Rip.)

To Gilbert,

I hope you're doing better…

This copy fell into the waste paper bin along with its bretheren. Francis sighed and walked away. Maybe he could find the right words next time.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"We are both flawed humans who make mistakes. I think it's important to acknowledge that. None of us are perfect, and it could be too late by the time that idealism gives us problems."

Arthur could understand where Francis was coming from. There was a time when he saw Francis as a flawless human being once. As he looked into Francis' expectant eyes, his hair only briefly brushed, and blemishes on his skin visible, Arthur knew what his stance was now.

"I understand."

The chapter ends with Arthur inquiring whether Francis would want to busk again, but Francis reassures him that the activity had been something he did out of impulse in order to feel like he's doing something. He didn't even get a licence.

To lighten the mood up, Arthur offers to let Francis read a completed chapter from his book. It's a historical novel about a violinist who dreamed of performing in Vienna but had to return to his hometown to take care of his aging parents. However, he meets a pianist who teaches him that great music doesn't have to come from concert halls, and together they become accompaniments to each other who find happiness in performing for themselves.

Francis pokes fun at how much the pianist resembles himself, and commends how much he enjoyed it, to which Arthur huffs.

32

After much more discussion and planning, Antonio moves away, though he promises to visit on the weekends, and Francis promises to attend his productions. Back in the apartment, with many of Gilbert and Antonio's things gone, Francis notes that it seems too empty. Looking into the mirror, he sees how much he had changed, and how much his surroundings had changed.

Later, when Arthur visits with some biscuits to celebrate, Francis admits to him that a lot of things are going too rapidly. Francis then brings up a request.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"... nothing."

That was a piece of dialogue that lasted for a while. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows as he glanced up at Francis. His brows were furrowed as he looked down and sipped his tea.

"What's wrong, Francis?"

Francis frowned as he put down his cup of tea. "I… I do not think that I should be talking to you about this." He sighed, a lost look in his sky blue eyes. "Arthur, it's... "

Arthur held his breath in anticipation. What was it? What was Francis getting so worked up about? But from his body language Arthur could tell that it was a thing that deeply affected Francis.

Arthur then came to realise that Francis had been a little in a thinking mood for quite a while now. Could it be that Francis had something else going on? They were keeping each other up to date with their careers- Francis had come to like tutoring a little so decided to stay and tutor, as well as having a breath of relief that at least his university education wasn't wasted, Arthur with finding an editor but then opting to edit the book himself.

Francis put his mug down. "You… know my fiancee?'

His fiancee. She died, didn't she? "It's close to her funeral date," he guessed.

Francis twisted his lips, and out of shame, looked away. "And for my maman, too. They both died in a car crash."

Arthur jolted. "Oh, fuck."

"Yeah, fuck indeed." There was a sarcastic smile on his face as he shook his head before he continued to sip more of his tea (Arthur got some instant coffee for Francis, however, Francis did not like to drink instant coffee, claiming it as a brew for the devil, and opted for mint tea with extra black tea bags to make up for the lack of caffeine). "I... " he exhaled.

Arthur waited patiently for Francis to reply.

"I… I haven't gone back to France for 4 years. I… didn't even attend the funeral." His knuckles were white as he grasped onto the mug. "I just…" he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I hate myself for it."

"Francis, no no. A… funeral is very troubling I guess," Arthur said as he put a hand onto Francis' shoulder.

Arthur was expecting an answer to that. However, Francis did not reply. "I wanted to finally go back, but then I'll have to see my dad again and I have to face the fact that they're… gone. Which is idiotic because they are dead."

The bluntness Francis tried to mask himself with punched Arthur in the gut.

Francis put the mug down. "But we all need to move on. I was hoping that you can…"

"Accompany you?"

Francis looked up. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

"You don't have to, I know it's selfish and that I shouldn't push my problems onto you. I think you're a great man. I don't want you to get hurt."

Francis' reasoning touched Arthur. "I want to accompany you there, anyway," he started. "Think of it not as something I'm obligated to do, but a choice from me, because I care for you. Ah… I know it was accidental, but you were with me to Carroll, and I don't think I would've even gone there without you.

"I want to go with you to Paris. Because I know that you need someone, and I want to be that someone. It's not coercion, it's my own choice. I will say if there are times when I am uncomfortable, in any way, shape, or form. Alright?"

Francis smiled. "Alright."

33

You will still be my son, Frank had told him a few months prior.

Frank was not certain about that statement anymore. Frank didn't want Francis to be dependent. He knew that Francis would have to live by himself one day. That was the plan.

The problem with the arts and humanities was that it was a very unpredictable career, determined by market trends with no guarantee of a stable employment. Frank was a savate boxer once, though he moved on and became a lawyer. His late wife Aife was an artist. She was famous for her work as a mural artist, but smart about it, too. That was another thing about the arts. It was about how you promote yourself as well. Aife once was a street artist who painted graffiti on buildings about to be demolished. But she was successful as a professional artist once she did a lot of charity work in her art style, painting many murals in hospitals of French legends. Once she did a lot of interviews about her artwork and its ancestral influences, how she seeks to revive the Gallic roots into French art again. It was groundbreaking. Inspiring. Revolutionary. And so Aife Bonnefoy became famous throughout all of France for the movement she began.

The original plan was that Francis would be allowed to pursue a music career, with Aife guiding him. After Aife had died, the plan had been disrupted.

The second plan was that Francis had gotten some of Aife's ingenuity and ambition. He had his mother's blood in him, after all. His mother's charisma, his mother's humour. That was what Frank had in mind whenever Francis stated that he needed him in Paris. So Frank pulled out the soft love card and encouraged him a lot.

All that changed once Francis asked Frank for financial support.

That put a very sudden turn in everything. Francis didn't have a plan, he was barely hanging on. But that was not a very efficient decision. Aife had died so suddenly. What if Frank died? Would Francis be left to fend for himself, with not a soul to help him?

Frank knew that he would have a very difficult conversation with his son.

The two arrived in Paris' Charles de Gaulle metro station during the afternoon, where the atmosphere was stewed heavy with the late Summer heat.

Francis hailed for a taxi, then told the driver the directions to his father's house in English. Arthur was surprised at how Francis asked in English rather than French, given how they were in France now.

"Alright. Is it an AirBNB?" The driver replied in English with a heavy accent.

Francis raised an eyebrow at the taxi driver's response. Once he realised that he talked in the wrong language, Francis apologised and muttered something in French. Ah. That explained it.

Francis brings up that Frank has moved to a new location, which saddens Francis a bit because the old house had been a place of nostalgia for him.

Frank has moved to a neighbourhood on the outskirts of Paris and spends a lot of time with his neighbours. He had adopted a dog named Beau, a mutt with brown fur and droopy ears (albeit Francis had no idea that he did). Francis feels bad because he's left his dad all alone, but Frank reassures that he has learnt how to live without Francis or Aife and that he is very involved with the community he is in.

After they finish packing, Frank plays a brief chess game with Arthur.

"About time I met a decent player."

"Really? Then Francis, you…"

"No no, Francis is not interested in chess. He inherited my late wife's impatience," Frank stated. Francis raised an eyebrow, and Arthur huffed because he didn't want Francis to be insulted like that.

"Actually, though studies have shown correlations between genetics and mental abilities, it is greatly suggestive also that given the natural neuroplasticity of the brain, it is more likely that mental abilities are influenced by upbringing. And since we are around our parents during our upbringing, it is much more likely that mental abilities are formed from copying our parents rather than inheriting the genes from our parents." Arthur moved his knight. Considering how English was Frank's second language, he hoped all those big words would confuse Frank enough to stop talking about Francis that way.

"You use big words for someone your age. Do you have a doctorate?" Frank moved his pawn.

"A doctor-!" Arthur rolled his eyes. "You're looking for my brother, then."

"Not even in training?" Frank was studying Arthur's chess pieces as well as his own.

"No. I'm… I'm a writer, actually."

"So a doctor of literature?"

Arthur scoffed and took a piece out with his bishop. "I wish. I've published a book"

Frank perked up in the biggest expression Arthur had seen out of him. "I… see." Frank took out Arthur's bishop with his pawn. Bloody hell, thought Arthur. All this talking was making him lose focus.

"Only sometimes. Professionally I'm an accountant." Arthur looked around and decided to move his rook.

"Ah. Did you hear that, Francis?" Frank set his queen loose. "You can have a main career while still doing arts on the side."

Francis rubbed his temple.

The game ends with Arthur and Frank finishing with a tie, and Frank shakes his hand. Frank notes that Arthur had a similar competitive attitude when he was young. Francis lets loose that Frank had been a savate champion. Frank explains how it was once a method he used to keep his aggression in check. However, he has moved on from this and has become a lawyer.

They then look at Frank's medals and trophies. Frank explained how he got a broken nose after a particularly brutal kick from the other competitor, which is why his nose is twisted. But he persevered anyway, forgoing pain pills and any rest, and managed to win that evening. They see a photograph of a younger Frank, whose gloved fist is held up by a referee as he is proclaimed to be the victor. Dried blood dribbled down his broken nose, yet he sported a proud grin.

Frank asked whether Arthur did any boxing, too, considering his crooked nose. Arthur clarifies that he got it after a fight with his brother. Frank then reveals that he also lived in a middle-class household with many brothers, but he left and made a better life for himself. Francis has, in fact, never met his uncles. It is clear at this fact that Frank is considering Arthur to be like a son he never had.

34

Francis offers to cook for the night, and Frank agrees. Francis then invites Arthur to cook with him, and though Arthur states that he has very shoddy cooking skills, Arthur agrees nevertheless. Francis then talks to Arthur about having to live up to a parent's expectations, and Arthur agrees, admitting that he didn't like Frank treating him better than he did to Francis.

Neither Frank nor Aife knew how to cook, so Frank often had groceries delivered via meal kit deliveries. The meal kit is supposed to be for a lemon and garlic couscous with grilled chicken. Francis decides to buy some more groceries to supplement what is brought so it'll also accommodate the three of them. Arthur asks Francis where to find the cookbook and Francis shrugs, saying that the cookbook wouldn't help much and that it was probably still packed in a box somewhere, anyway.

They look around the kitchen and find some tools. Francis and Arthur go to the store to restock Frank's kitchen with some kitchen utensils, some spices, olive oil and some vegetables. Francis offers for Arthur to peel the vegetables while he cuts the meats on a separate board. Arthur asks about the separate board, and there is a joke about how Arthur doesn't know how salmonella spreads. They cook couscous with cucumber, capsicum, onion and pumpkin with diced chicken.

Meanwhile, Francis bought some squab as well as an apple, mascarpone, sage and rosemary. He had also bought some black tea for Arthur since pigeons are red meats which go well with tannin-rich drinks but Arthur doesn't like wine (he was going to pair it with the pinot noir in the pantry).

During the course of the cooking, Francis feeds Beau some squab and chicken trimmings which Beau likes. They eat dinner and quite like the menu. Frank commends him for the cooking and asks whether Francis had ever considered a cooking career. Francis is uncomfortable about his hobby being suggested as a career option by his father.