Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: AND YOU GAVE ME EVEN MORE REVIEWS.
WAT iS TIS
IS TIS THE REAL LIFE
EVERYWHERRRR THE WIND BLOWSSS
*puts on Queen and shakes tush like Outkast had wanted it*

A/n2: *coughs* So anyway.
Maybe you've noticed in last week's chapter that Luisa's going through some pretty nasty hardships right now that are/seem to be the same as mine. That's no coincidence – I really want to picture how hard life can be for people like me, who are older than twenty and therefore struggling to get a job/normal life. Write what you know, right?
But other than that, there aren't many similarities between Luisa and me: I'm older, I'm not pregnant, I'm single and, oh god, I could go on for hours but I won't.

A/n3: My oh my, so many questions about Seb and Matteo! Well, unless you figure everything about them out all by yourself, I won't tell you anything! Nope nope nope!
Having that said, I really DO ship Seb and Luisa very much. Just as much as I ship Alejo and (insert character here). And Matteo and (insert other character here). *cackles evilly*

A/n4: By the way, Word says "fathers" and "dads" are grammatical errors. Like, when I write "my fathers", BANG, there's a little blue scribble underneath "fathers". So in a way, my Word actually refuses to admit that it's possible to have two fathers (or two mothers, Word bitches on that as well). It's kind of depressing if you think about it too long. So let's not do that!~

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 70:

Parents aren't interested in justice – they're interested in peace and quiet.
Bill Cosby
(American comedian, actor, television producer, educator, musician and activist)

Now this was a strange turn of events.

For starters, I had expected the ambiance to be rather loaded and awkward, when Alejo and I sat down at the big dining table. My fathers knew I was going to talk about a certain heavy subject, and since they hadn't told me Seb was a goner yet, I didn't believe they also thought I was going to tell them that I was pregnant, like the twins did (rightfully) think.

…that was a fairly strange sentence – but it's true, dammit, it's fucking true.

Anyway, I was pretty sure Ángel and Stefano knew what I really wanted to talk about – something in the slightly forceful smile of one father and the somewhat nervous grin of the other one told me that.

And yet, all of the tension flew out of the window very rapidly after dinner was served, all thanks to Alejo, because he had met a girl – and no, this time, it wasn't just another willing body to have his way with. Nope, if I had to believe him, it was real LoVe!~ this time.

'She's French,' Alejo enthusiastically told us while fucking eating, spraying bits and pieces of pasta all over the table, 'I met her a few weeks ago, when she was here on vacation with her parents, and we just hit it off! She's short, blonde – with bouncy, bubbly curls! – and she's the most adorable pervert I've ever met!~'

'She's what?' Stefano asked, his bold head shining in the bright lights of the chandelier. Good to see he finally fixed that thing, by the way.

'She pronounces my name so very adorably!~ Alé-youuu, Allycio…' Alejo gushed on, brutally stabbing a pickle on his fork. 'God, I'm sure you guys will love her! She's going to come over next Saturday, so you can all meet her.'

'She's what?' Stefano asked him once more, while Ángel tried to shush him and patted his arm.

Meanwhile, I smirked. 'Wow, we even get to meet her, huh? That's a first. We've never met one of your dates before. You really think she's the one?'

'Oh yes!' Alejo nodded. 'Absolutely! That's why I'm thinking about asking her to move in with me next week. My house needs a feminine touch anyway – and not yours, Lulu, you door.'

'What!' I shot up. 'Dad! That asscrack keeps calling me a fucking door!'

'It's not nice to call each other names,' Ángel mildly scolded both of us, not convincing anybody with that peaceful smile, dammit, and then congratulated Alejo on growing up at last.

'Moving in with a pervert.' Stefano shook his head and rubbed his temples. 'He's moving in with a goddamn pervert, one that he's only been seeing for a month or so. I bet they'll make disturbing, hardcore porn in the basement during the weekends and put in on internet to make a living.'

Alejo laughed pleasantly. 'Don't be ridiculous, pa! Making disturbing, hardcore porn in the basement – come on! What's wrong with the kitchen?'

'Oh god – I can't – WHERE DID THE DAMN AIR GO,' Stefano gasped for breath and loosened his collar.

Ángel sighed. 'Stefano – oh, don't be such a drama queen, he's obviously kidding – aren't you, Allie?'

Alejo was kidding – that moron simply liked to give Stefano major strokes just to watch him freak out in Stefano's own over-the-toppish ways – but that grinning bastard looked more serious than ever and wanted to stress that "fact", too, so I gave him a hard kick to his shins and threatened him with a very mayonnaise-y spoon.

He got the hint.

'I-I'm kidding, I'm kidding – I'm obviously kidding, pa!' he hastily yelped, moving his legs further away from mine while glaring at me. 'As if I'd want to share the sex I have with my girlfriend with others – pssssh, of course not. I'm so over that phase.'

…

There are so many things you'd not like to know about Alejo, you should be thankful I won't be telling you anything about that. Brrrrrr.

'But how nice,' Ángel said in an upbeat voice, as Stefano wheezed and took a few sips from his glass of water. 'It's so wonderful to hear Alejo's going to settle down with a cute girl! Aren't you happy, Stefanito? All of our kids have grown-up now!~ Well… more or less, ahahahaha…'

They didn't really give or send me anything, but I could still feel them. The somewhat-worried looks both Ángel and Stefano gave me and the victorious grin that Alejo sent my way.

Growing up with your parents as the careful observers was like a playing a never-ending competition with my brothers. It was a big and extremely difficult game, named "Which One Of The Kids Won't Fail At Life?" – and at the moment, I was ranked last. Matteo was ranked first, of course, very closely followed by Alejo, now that the latter had played the "Not Single Anymore!" and "Girlfriend Will Move In!" –card, so very shortly after he had also showed us the crazily important "Living On My Own!" and "Making My Own Money!" –cards.

It was my turn now, once again. My precious "Living On My Own (On My Boyfriend's Expense)!" and "Not Single Anymore!" –cards had pretty much lost all of their significance now that Alejo had trampled all over me with his achievements, and the only playable cards I had in my deck right now was either the "Yay I'm Pregnant (Unplanned)!" –card or the "Still Lazy, Pessimistic & Unemployed As Hell!" –card.

…a-and I didn't want to play either one of those cards. Not now, in any case.

'Luisa?' Ángel's friendly voice dragged me out of my depressing thoughts. 'Maybe it's a bit early, since we're still having dinner, but… maybe you already want to tell us what you wanted to discuss with Papa Stefano and me?'

This time, I couldn't help but make a face. When I was a kid, I tried calling him and Stefano 'Papa Ángel' and 'Papa Stefano'. But after realizing they weren't my real parents, it just felt weird – even weirder than it already felt. The twins never told me, but I knew they also found it kind of uncomfortable to address to our parents like that. Not because we didn't want to call them that – Alejo and Matteo still called them Papa Ángel and Papa Stefano, because they didn't want to hurt their feelings – but because it was like…

It was like…

…

Their names aren't supposed to come after 'Papa'.

Other names are supposed to come after that word – not theirs.

I felt it like that. Or rather, the hole in my chest did.

Surprisingly enough, the word 'mama' never did that much to me. Maybe Ángel and Stefano should've taught us to call them our mama's… but… that would've been even more bizarre, wouldn't it?

Ugh, I don't know – I was tired, I felt nauseous and I was carrying a growing life inside of me and Alejo was fucking pissing me off what that asshole-smirk on his fucking face.

I groaned and rubbed my temples. I needed some support already, dammit. Before I was going to tell everything, and maybe even more than I had planned to tell. Was that too much to ask? Come on, give me a break alread—

Ding-dong!

'Oh!~' Ángel immediately shot up from his seat – a bit too hasty and too panicky, if you asked me. 'Maybe… maybe that's Teo!'

'It can't be Teo, he couldn't find a babysit, remember?' Alejo called after him while Ángel sprinted out of the dining room.

'Well, maybe he decided to bring her with him – I didn't understand why he didn't want to bring her anyway,' I said, shrugging as I took another bite of the macaroni. I actually didn't like pasta all that much… well, I could eat it, sure, but I rather have fish and meat and candybars and ice cream and chocolate and chips and lollypops and winegums, all put together IN A HUGE BOWL WITH SUGAR ON THE EDGE OF THE BOWL!

…

Oh.

Well, I suppose it's good to know that being pregnant had the same affect on my body as being on my period, dammit.

'Don't lie, Luisa, of course you know why Matteo is reluctant to bring your niece with him whenever he comes over,' Stefano in the meantime said, his brow furrowed. 'He's scared he might break down in tears again in front of her, when he's talking to us about Kay.'

'What, he still wants to talk about Kay?' Alejo groaned and rolled his eyes. 'Give me a break – it's been two years already. He should be over her already! I mean, he's seeing other girls now, right?'

I glared at my older brother, amazed at how mean he sounded. 'Alejo, for fuck's sake – it's not like Kay dumped Matteo or anything, she wasn't just a girl he needs to get over! She-!'

'Yeah yeah, I know.' Alejo sighed and scratched his arm. 'I miss her, too. I sure hope she has a nice seat up there.'

'Then you should tell Teo that more often.' Stefano looked at Alejo sternly. 'You know how much Kay meant to him, how sensitive he is and how much he relies on you and your sister. Be the big brother he wants you to be – and don't give me that "but we're twins" –crap, because you know that's got nothing to do with this.'

Alejo huffed, got a bit embarrassed and turned his face away. 'A-alright, alright! Sheesh, I'm sorry! God!'

That wasn't convincing enough for me, so I once more wanted to nag at Alejo to get his fucking act together when talking about Kay or Matteo – but at that moment, Ángel came walking into the room again, with a strained smile plastered on his face.

'Well, who was it?' Stefano asked.

Ángel slowly opened his mouth to answer him, at the same time as a tired-looking Seb came into the room as well. His jacket was neatly folded over his arm and his blouse and blue tie were a bit crumbled and wet. I wondered if it had started raining outside, but then I realized Seb must have been sweating and now his clothes stuck to his flawless, pale skin like—

'Please don't drool over your macaroni, Luisa.' Ángel sounded stricter than he should be. I meeped in shock and stuttered I wasn't drooling over my damn pasta-shit at all, dammit, but Ángel didn't bother listening to me and took Seb's coat away from him, without saying another word.

'Um. Hi,' Seb said, nodding to the table where the rest of us were sitting at.

Stefano just glared at him and kept on eating, without looking away.

Alejo, who thankfully enough never disliked him, greeted him back with a broad smile. 'Hi, Seb! You handsome beast, you. Glad to see you're in such good shape, my man.'

'Are you hitting on me again,' Seb monotonously remarked, smirking nevertheless. 'For the record, Alejo, I'm here because of your sister. Since I'm dating her. In case you hadn't noticed yet, in the last few years.'

'But I have noticed that. And I will notice even more of that in a couple of months, no doubt.'

That earned Alejo another hard kick to his ankles, god-hjdgsghjgjhgj-dammit.

While Alejo shrieked and tried to kick me back, Seb (who didn't get it) looked at me expectantly. I stopped paying attention to my stupid brother and nodded to Matteo's seat, next to mine.

'Y-you can sit here, if you want to.'

'Or you can sit here,' Stefano growled, pointing to the chair Ángel had been sitting – next to his.

'Or you can sit here,' Alejo winked, patting his lap.

'I believe Mr. Hernández sits there, Mr. Castagnetti, so no, but thanks,' Seb politely told Stefano. 'And Alejo, I'd rather sit in a heap of needles than on your leathery lap.'

'He'll never let it go, will he? I once wore leather pants, just once!' Alejo complained to Stefano, while Seb simply walked over to me, pressed a kiss down on my hair and sat next to me.

'Hi cutie. Thanks for telling me you took my bike.'

'But I didn't te—'

'I know you didn't.'

'Ah.'

'I just spent thirty minutes freaking out over my stolen bicycle – until I remembered you and your habit of taking my things. Then I felt better.'

I made a face and folded my arms. 'Well, why don't you fucking marry your damn bike if you love it so much?'

'I intend to. I've already written a letter in order to convince the government to let me.'

That made me chuckle – b-but just a bit, really.

'Anyway, I'm glad it's here.' Seb smiled and gently touched my cheek. 'And I'm glad you seem to feel better. Is everything alright?'

'U-uhm…' I muttered. I knew he was talking about my condition, but I tried to signal to him, with my eyes, that I couldn't answer that question right now.

This time, Seb did get the hint and mumbled a soft 'oh', before swiftly asking Stefano if it was alright if he could have some macaroni as well. Seb never was really subtle when it was about hiding things – he always got so nervous and weird – but he looked so cute when he tried to keep a secret, I couldn't care less.

Stefano still gave him a suspicious look (and some macaroni), but since I hastily started asking Alejo about his lover again, I somehow managed to make my dad forget about Seb, at least temporary. After all, what was more important to him to know about: your daughter's boyfriend and his stupid secret, or your son, who's possibly going to live together with a perverted French girl?

Exactly.

So when Ángel came back a couple of seconds later and sat back on his seat, the five of us continued our cozy family dinner.

…

It all of a sudden did feel a bit chilly in the room, though.

o\00/

It's not exactly comfortable when your girlfriend's parents were constantly glaring daggers at you throughout the entire dinner, but Seb did a great job of pretending he didn't notice Ángel's grumbled face or Stefano's clenched fists at all. He talked to Alejo about work, he sometimes made a comment about how tasty the macaroni was and, a very good move of him, he also said how much he regretted not-seeing Matteo tonight.

Ángel and Stefano practically worshipped Matteo for all that he had done in his life already and everything he managed to struggle through during his relatively short life, without making too many big blunders, so I could see both of my fathers' faces lighten up a little when Seb, once more, told them how much he missed Matteo's wonderful presence.

'It's too bad, indeed, but Teo just couldn't make it. Such a shame, we had even made his favorite food!' Ángel sighed. 'But oh well, since you are here now, Seb, at least we don't have to waste food.'

That was almost a compliment!

I sneakily punched Seb in the arm and gave him an excited thumbs-up. He was doing great! He really was! Keep it up, Seb!

Seb smiled at me, relieved to see he was doing a good job, but then his smile faltered a bit.

'Did you tell them yet?'

He made a quick hand-movement around his neck.

'What was that all about? Don't you mean this?' Alejo frowned and made a fucking cradling gesture with his arms. 'Because I can assure you she hasn't said anything about that yet.'

'About what?' both Ángel and Stefano answered – both of their voiced frightened and dangerous at the same time.

'Alejo – shut the everloving fuck up!' I hissed as my heart skipped a beat and I felt red spots spontaneously appearing on my cheeks and in my neck.

'What's this?' Stefano said, hysterically repeating the gesture Alejo made earlier. 'What does that mean, Luisa?'

'Yes, what is… what is it you wanted to tell us? Is it this…' Ángel made some very intense circles around his neck, '…or is it… is… is it… THIS?' And he ended his creepy play with cradling his arms, together with the dilated pupils and murderous aura and all.

If Ángel and Stefano weren't looking like they could either burst into tears or into pure flames of rage any second, I'd have been surprised about the fact Ángel was aware of the fact I had a question about the necklace.

But they were, so I didn't waste time and tried to bullshit my way out of it.

'You don't know? It's a new dance-move!' I tried, also cradling my arms like I had totally lost it. 'It's… it's like raving, dad! Or that ridiculous dance they did forty years ago – the Macarena or something. Everybody does it!'

'That's right,' Alejo, who found all of this very amusing, that asshole, agreed, and cradled his arms even more. 'And it's actually normal to do that crazy Russian dance with your feet as the same time as you cradle your arms. I'm not very good at it – but man, you should see Seb!'

'What?' Seb said.

'What?' I growled.

'Man, he OWNS this dance – hell, who am I kidding, he practically invented the dance, when he went to the gay bar with me a few months ago—'

'You went to the gay bar with my son?' Stefano stared at Seb. 'While dating my daughter? What the fuck?'

Seb's jaw dropped and he was completely at a loss of words.

'Alejo, you horrible piece of shit,' I barked at my brother. 'You stop that – you're only making it worse, dammit!'

Alejo snorted. 'You're just jealous because you haven't ever seen Seb's moves, Lulu – and you should, because he made many helpless muscular men swoon and surrender themselves to him in despair as he passionately squatted, hopped and kicked his long legs all over the bar counter, while feverishly swaying his arms back and forth at the exact same time. It's a miracle nobody was killed by Seb's sheer fabulousness, sis.'

'WHAT THE HELL,' I shrieked, while Seb now was making muffled sounds and did his best to keep himself from laughing out loud.

'Show me,' Ángel then all of a sudden said.

The three of us stopped with whatever the shit we were doing and gave him a startled look.

'W-what?' I uttered.

'If Seb really has invented a new dance-move that's so special and – what did Alejo call it – fabulous, then I'd like to see it.' Ángel folded his arms and concentrated his dark eyes on Seb. 'Go on right ahead, Seb.'

'Um,' Seb muttered, not laughing at all anymore now, 'a-are you serious, Mr. Hernández?'

'Why of course he is,' Stefano chimed in. 'I'd like to see that glorious dance as well.'

'Well…' Seb started.

'BUT.' Stefano's blue eyes got this piercing vibe all of a sudden. 'The fucking second we figure out you just made something stupid up to conceal the fact you've, oh, say, knocked up our daughter, we'll kick your skinny ass.'

Seb got pale.

'But don't worry, Seb,' Ángel smiled his characteristic angelic smile, 'if you are honest with us and just confess you've done such a horrible, despicable deed – well, we'll kick your skinny ass just as hard.'

Seb got even paler and Alejo leant towards him.

'Dude, go for option one – maybe you really are a sick dancer and you can totally get away with it! Just wait a minute before you break it down, I need to find my camera first.'

'I'm going to murder you,' Seb bit at him.

Meanwhile, I couldn't believe all of this was happening. Shit, were my fathers really going to make Seb dance first, before they'd rain their anger down on him? That was a fate worse than fucking death, dammit, and no way I was going to let that happen!

'Enough!' I therefore yelled, smacking down my hands on the table hard, successfully drawing everybody's attention. Stefano and Ángel gave me these disapproving, disappointed and even desperate looks, as if they had lost all hope for me, and that was it – that fucking did it!

'Yes!' I roared, standing up on my shaky legs. 'That's right! I'm pregnant, dammit – I'm fucking pregnant and yes, it's Seb's, and yes, I'm going to keep it, and no, I don't give a fucking shit about what your opinion is about that, because all you can do is nag about Seb and tell me I could do so much better than I'm currently doing! But you don't need to tell me all that! I'm perfectly aware of how much of a train-wreck I am, dammit! Also, my pregnancy not the fucking point!'

'It isn't?' Alejo asked confusedly, while Ángel and Stefano just looked at me and waited.

'I want to know where they are, alright?' I gritted my teeth and pulled out my dog tag. 'If I… i-if I want to become a good mother, I need to fill up the hole in my damn chest and meet up with the bastards that put the twins and me up for adoption twenty years ago! So stop rambling on about my situation and tell me who they are and what the fuck I should do and know before looking them up!'

The silence that followed right after my loud, howling words was, short, but deafening.

Seb quietly sat down next to me again.

Alejo, for once, didn't smile.

And Ángel and Stefano seemed to be frozen rock-solid.

'Tell me!' I especially glared at Ángel, since he seemed to really do his best to avoid my eyes. 'Tell me everything you know – I know it's hard, but I have the right to ask this of you!'

'I thought you hated them,' Stefano finally answered, in Ángel's place. 'I thought you didn't want anything to do with them.'

'Yes, but that was before I…' I glanced over at Seb, then back at my dad, '…y-you know. So I changed my mind. I now wish to know more about them. Like I said, I even want to look them up – everything to try and patch up my damn heart, d-dammit.'

I had more or less expected Alejo to make a lame comment, but he just placed a hand over his own chest and chewed on his bottom lip.

'Are you sure?' Ángel suddenly looked at me, his eyes a bit wet and… and sad, even.

'Y-yes. I am.' I swallowed and decided to sit down. 'And you? Are you willing to tell me?'

He smiled and slowly shook his head. 'Of course I'm not willing to tell you about your biological parents. And really, if it was up to me, I would've told you an entire different story than what I've promised your great-grandfather to tell you.'

My great-grandpa? I blinked. When the twins and I were kids, we were the only kids in our classes that didn't have a grandpa or grandma. Stefano's parents lived in Italy and didn't want to see or talk to him anymore – since he was gay and they were mean dipshits – and Ángel's parents had been dead for decades already. We did have a great-grandpa, however, and he was the best.

I cried for months when he died six years ago.

'What's he got to do with it?' I asked Ángel. 'Great-grandpa, I mean.'

'Oh, a lot.' Ángel averted his eyes. 'And I don't think he'd ever forgive me if he would somehow find out I still haven't given you clues about your birth parents yet. But then again, it's my grandpa were talking about here. He was a very angry and hateful person.'

'No he wasn't,' I protested. 'Great-grandpa was just misunderstood, dammit – he did want people to like him, he wanted you to like him! And you never did!'

'I did like him,' Ángel patiently said.

'No! No, you didn't!' I had to keep myself from shouting again. 'You may have tried to act friendly around him, but I'm not blind – I saw there was no fucking warmth in your eyes whenever you begrudgingly spoke to him!'

'He had had his chance, okay?' Ángel shot an angry look at me. 'I gave him chance after chance after chance – and then he did that to give me you three, and then I… I had reached my limit. It's simple as that.'

'But—!'

'No. Don't talk about your great-grandpa and me anymore. I won't tolerate a single word – you hear me, Luisa? Just keep your nose out of it,' Ángel warned.

I put my molars and teeth together again. 'Fine. I won't say a word about the huge asshole you've been to great-grandpa, have it your freaking way – but then you should keep your damn promise and tell me all you have promised him to tell the twins and me!'

'Alright. I'll tell you everything. It's not much I need to say, anyway.'

Ángel grunted, rose off his chair and walked out of the room.

My bewildered thoughts were tumbling all over each other and I didn't really know what to do now – was I supposed to follow him, should I stop him? – but luckily, Seb was there to grab one of my tightly-fisted hand and calm me down.

'Luu.'

'What.'

'You're brave.' He softly caressed my hand, making it relax a bit more. 'You're so very brave, Luisa, and I seriously couldn't be prouder of you.'

'Y-yeah?' I mumbled, peeking to the side. 'But I'm a mess, dammit… I-I even screamed at my father…'

He smiled. 'Exactly.'

I wanted to ask him what he meant with that, what was so brave about being a mess and nagging at your dad – but then Ángel returned, with a small, folded piece of paper in his hand.

'Here you go,' he muttered and put it down in front of me. He instantly walked out of the room again as soon as he had given it, ignoring Stefano's concerned looks and Alejo's just as puzzled face.

I folded the piece of paper open, with trembling hands, and found myself staring at a strange, foreign phone number. There was a name written above it: Benedetta Tosca. It sounded Italian.

'Wh-who's this?' I asked in a small voice, gathering the paper in my hand. 'I-is this the name of our mother? Is she Italian?'

'Let me see!' Alejo gasped, sprinting back to the table to look at the name as well.

'Oh no, no no, none of that,' Stefano groaned, after one last glance into the direction Ángel had disappeared into. 'Dr. Tosca was a colleague of Dr. Delgado – and of Ángel, for a very short time.'

'She was great-grandpa's colleague?' I concluded.

'Yes. She was the personal doctor of your… Italian parent.'

'So we DO have Italian parents!' Alejo said, half-laughing. 'Amazing!'

'No, you have an Italian and a Spanish parent,' Stefano carried on. 'Dr. Delgado was your Spanish parent's doctor, Dr. Tosca's was your Italian parent's doctor.'

'They had private doctors?' I stared at him. 'What, are… are they loaded or something?'

'Well, not exactly…'

'Because if they're rich, and always have been rich, then I can't understand why those bastards—'

'Luisa, quit your pitiful moaning for a second and let Papa Stefano do the talking already!' Alejo suddenly told me, his voice surprisingly hard and annoyed.

If looks could kill, Alejo would've been very heavily wounded and fighting for his life, right at that moment. But looks can't kill, so I just huffed and obeyed.

'I can't tell you very much, I'm afraid,' Stefano apologized. 'Everything you want to know is classified information, and if they find out know your father and I told you about your real parents before the time was ready, we could get into some serious trouble. An "outsider", however, who's got nothing to do with our family or with them – at least not anymore – could tell you more. And that's Dr. Tosca – your great-grandfather's trusted and only confidante.'

'But—'

'By the way, I heard she's written a book recently. It's quite controversial and many important and intelligent people are talking about it – maybe you should read it. And with should, I mean you have to, if you want to know more about your parents.'

'What the… that doesn't make any sense!' I complained. 'We all of a sudden need to read a book?'

Stefano, who was loving this conversation just as much as I was, gave me an exhausted look and sighed. 'Luisa, why don't you, for once, just do what you're told to?'

'I—'

'You want answers? Well fine. But you'll have to look for them yourselves – partly because your father and I can't tell you, and partly because your father and I don't want to tell you. So just follow my advice, Lulu: buy and read that book, call this phone number, and after that… well, after that, it's up to you to decide what to do next. You got that?'

'Yeah, I got it alright.' I snorted and abruptly got up from my chair. 'Let's go home, Seb. I'm fed up with everybody here – and I need to think all of this over, dammit…'

'Aww, come on, Lulu!' Alejo pouted. 'Don't be like that, stay here, please! We can talk about it! I mean, I still don't really feel like looking up our folks, to be honest, but we can at least discuss it?'

Seb nodded a bit. 'Maybe your brother's right, cutie. It's a whole load of new information – maybe you, your fathers and your brother should talk about it some more.'

Oh, and make Seb go home, leaving me behind with all these stupid men? No fucking way in hell!

'Not today – sorry, just… not today.' I pulled both of Seb's sleeved and looked up at him hopefully. 'Please, let's… just leave already.'

Seb frowned, but then took a gentle hold of one of my hands. 'Sure, Luu.'

'Wow, Seb. Way to show how spineless you are.' Stefano snarled, watching my boyfriend haughtily. 'Do you always give her her way when she looks at you? That surely is the most perfect foundation for a healthy relationship. You're doing great, really.'

I felt I was getting even angrier. Wow, seriously? Did he really say those words right now? I mean, yes, I know Stefano was spouting offending shit because he felt mad and even helpless, or so I saw in his deep blue eyes, but come on – why did he, and Ángel, always have to lash out their frustrations on Seb, whenever they saw him?

'I know I have no right to say this, and I'm aware of the fact how mean this might sound, but it's a relief that my parents at least accept my relationship with Luisa – no matter who or what she is,' Seb unexpectedly defended himself. He sounded cool and confident, and he looked even taller than he already was.

I smiled a bit, in spite of everything, thinking that this small victory of his was the moment to just leave the house already and let them all be.

Unfortunately enough, Ángel's bitter laugh from another room put an end to both my smile and the victorious feeling.

'You really think your parents will be accepting of your relationship with Luisa, Seb? You mother might, yes, but your father would probably faint if he finds out you're dating his daughter!'

'What?' I stammered.

'I do think that,' Seb said, a bit confused. 'You met both of my parents last year, Mr. Hernández – they're very nice and accepting people. They love Luisa.'

'Oh god,' Stefano muttered, staring at Seb with pity in his eyes. 'They never told you, did they?'

'What? Told me what?'

'Leave it, Stefano – just leave it, it's not our business.' Ángel – still in the other room – said, sounding irritated. 'Just make sure you call your so-called "parents" tomorrow, Seb. That's all I can say.'

Seb answered with a soft "yes". He looked like he had just been punched in the gut over and over again, even bending over a bit. His hand felt sweaty and tight, but I kept holding on to it, no matter what.

'Let's go, alright?' I muttered, turning around after shooting a furious glare at Stefano. 'It's been a long day.'

'Yeah.' Alejo got up from his chair as well and put his hands in his pockets. 'I should probably be leaving as well.'

Stefano looked at him in shock and even Ángel came back to try and stop my brother. And me, or so it appeared to be.

'W-wait, Allie, Lulu – listen, we're just a bit flabbergasted, okay? You suddenly want to find out about your real parents, and… and Luisa turning out to be pregnant, and… it… it just was too much, I—'

'Oh, I understand, pa,' Alejo breezily said, putting on his coat. 'This was hard for you guys to say. Sure. But it's a lot of information for us to progress as well. Not to mention for Seb.'

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, to Seb, who was staring at the ground with both of his eyes spread wide-open, while I tried to comfort him by clumsily squeezing his hand and stuttering what I could do for him to make him feel better.

'C-come one, Seb… s-smile a little already. Here, you… you can even ride when we're going to cycle back home, I'll sit on the rack! O-okay?'

Seb responded by tenderly patting my head – but he didn't say a word.

Ángel stepped forward, to us, suddenly looked a lot older as he put one foot in front of the other – testing, pleading.

'L-look, I'm just saying—'

'I think you said enough.' Alejo calmly handed Seb his coat and teasingly draped mine all over me – a lame big-brother-move to cheer me up a bit.

'Let's get out of here, Lulu.'

I had no words to say, really, and nodded at him, following both him and Seb out of the dining room. Still, I couldn't stop myself from glancing behind me one last time – and I also couldn't avoid my chest tightening painfully when I saw both Stefano and Ángel, standing next to the table with broken expressions and eyes full of regret.

We never finished dinner.