"Can I ask you something?" Blaine asks while the two of us are sat in his bed.
"Yeah."
"How old were you when your eating disorder first started?"
"I don't know exactly. Normally for me it gradually happens, half of the time I don't realise until it's too late. But I think my tendencies started when I was around 11."
"11? That's so young. You were just a child."
"When I started not eating as much it was harmless at first but when I started comparing my body to other peoples and started feeling guilty for eating was when it took a turn for the worse. I didn't even know what an eating disorder was, I was that young. I thought that I was alone." I say. "As it progressed I got some really bad symptoms, Sidney noticed and got worried about me. He told my parents and we went to the hospital. They asked me all these questions but I didn't want to worry anyone anymore than I already had so I lied. After that I was more careful. I'd eat infront of people for show and later throw it back up. One day I was in complete agony, my stomach was hurting so much I couldn't physically move from my bed. Against my wishes, Sidney called an ambulance. The doctor at the hospital did some tests to rule out things, she was really nice and so when she asked me questions and I was alone I answered them. I still didn't fully know what was wrong with me but she reassured me and told me that there were websites and more information and that I wasn't alone. They kept me in hospital for a while and tried to get me to recover. The problem was I didn't want to recover and so I didn't. I had to continuously lie about how I was feeling, I managed to convince them that I was fine. The day that they let me out my dad died."
"I'm sorry." Blaine says.
"Don't be, it was his own fault." Blaine looks confused but doesn't ask any follow up questions. "I was in the car when he crashed. I called Sidney and he took me home. He called the authorities and sorted everything out."
"He called me." Blaine says. "I'm the one who sorted it. I didn't know it was your father though. Your brother, Rowan as I knew him at the time, never told me any details. He worked at my bar before then and knew what I was capable of so he asked for a favor."
"So he joined your mafia because of me?"
"Last time I checked you weren't the one behind the wheel. Driving while under the influence is one thing but with your own child in the car?"
"How did you know he was drunk?" I ask.
"As soon as I opened the car door I could smell it." He says.
"Around a year later I was hospitalized again. My body went into shock and I almost died. I decided to choose recovery and with a lot of work I managed to get to where I wanted to be. At one of my first sessions my therapist recommended getting an emotional support animal. I didn't think much of it at first but when Sidney and I walked into that pet shop and I saw Frinkles, I just knew that he was the one. It was the same year I started baking and kinda turned my life back around. I still struggled a lot after that but I knew I was going down the right path. When I thought Sidney died and my mom left me I relapsed but I caught it almost straight away and managed to stop the bad habits before they became too bad. This time was different, I didn't just miss the warning signs I ignored them. This time I convinced myself that I was fine."
"You can't beat yourself up for not knowing. You know now that's the important thing." He says.
"I'm sorry that Sidney stole from you he was only trying to protect me. Whatever it was I'll pay it back."
"You don't owe me anything. Had your brother told me, I would've given him the money. He chose wrong and if it was anyone else or for any other reason he'd be dead right now." He says. "I'm not going to make him pay for stealing, I'm going to forget about that because what really matters is who set the fire and killed all those people and who's framing him."
"So you believe him?" I ask hopefully.
"No but you do and I believe you." He states.
I pause before deciding to tell him something. "Somebody called me that night and told me that Sidney was dead."
"Ok?"
"If you didn't know Sidney's real name then who did?"
Blaine takes a minute to think. "Maybe you were just his emergency contact in his phone. One of the paramedics could've found it and called you."
I shake my head. "They knew I was his sister, I remember them saying it."
"Do you remember what they sounded like?"
"No." I say. "Do you have any suspicions about who set the fire?" I ask.
"I don't know." He admits.
"Do you think it could be the mole?" I ask.
"If it was that means the mole has been here for four years, if not longer. They'd most probably have more access and be higher up so I'm hoping not."
"But what's the other option? It wasn't Sidney so someone still framed him."
"I wish I had the answers but I don't." He says.
"Me too." I lay down in the bed and pull the covers up.
Blaine continues to look at me.
"What?" I ask.
"You have something else on your mind." He states.
"I'm fine." I say, turning to lay on my side, away from him.
He shuffles behind me and then I feel his hand on my shoulder as he starts to draw patterns.
"Non nasconderti, non da me." (Don't hide, not from me)
"Stop insulting me." I say, not having a clue what he said.
He let's out a breathy laugh. "I'm not." He continues drawing patterns gently on my shoulder. "What's on your mind amore?" (Love)
"I was thinking of my dad." I admit.
"What about him?" He asks.
"He really hated me."
"What makes you think that?"
"He told me so many times in so many different ways but when he was sober he acted like nothing happened and he was a loving dad." I say. "He was drunk most of the time, though. He'd come home in the middle of the night and take his anger out on scaring me."
"What did he do?" Blaine asks, still drawing comforting shapes on my arm.
"He'd come home late, he'd wake me up and put me in the car. He would dive around while he was drunk, in the middle of the night to punish me. With him being drunk, most of the time he'd end up crashing. He knew it terrified me that's why he kept doing it. The night I got out of the hospital he was livid. I'd never seen him so angry. He was screaming at me for causing such a scene and telling me how embarrassed he was to have me as a daughter. At full speed he crashed the car into a tree. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt and so he died. I feel guilty for feeling relieved that he's gone."
"He abused you for years. It sounds to me like he got what he deserved, Karma finally caught up to him."
I pull his arm from my shoulder and hug it against my chest. He pulls me closer towards him so my back is pressed against his chest. He nuzzels his head into my shoulder and my eyes flutter shut.
His touch makes me feel all kinds of things I've never felt before. Mostly, I feel safe.
I didn't like Blaine at first and I'm not quite sure when or how that changed.
I feel drawn to him like there's an invisible string tying the two of us together.
I'm not exactly sure what I feel when I'm around him but it's a sort of warmness.
Although he's not perfect, he really seems to understand me and in the aspects that he doesn't understand he's willing to learn. He stayed up for hours researching eating disorders so that he could help and understand me as best he could. He bought me a cat because he knew it would make me happy and he was going to take absolutely no credit for it. He didn't want me to see the soft side to him but I'm determined to see the real him too. Maybe Blaine can be a bad guy but I think underneath all of that is a kind soul.
"Would me talking about my shitty parents make you feel any better?" He asks.
"If you're comfortable telling me then I'd like to know, I'm good at listening too." I say, handing the choice over to him.
"You can probably tell from what you heard before that I don't like my parents and they don't like me either." He starts. "They always held me up to the highest standards, even as a kid. They were so much more than strict parents, they were constantly telling me what to do and scrutinizing every little thing I did."
"That sounds awful." I say, turning in his grasp to face him.
"It was and to add insult to injury when Vanessa got older they basically let her do whatever the fuck she wanted. I'm the oldest though and therefore their heir whether they liked it or not. I was trained and sculpted my whole life to be perfectly fit for this role. Think of my parents disappointment when I changed their mafia and everything they made at the first opportunity I got." Blaine averts his eyes from mine, looking off in thought.
My hand presses lightly against his cheek, turning his face back to me.
"What did they do?" I ask.
"You really want to know?"
"You can tell me."
"When I was a kid my father used to beat me for what he classed as bad behaviour. As I got older I started fighting back, he liked that. He claimed it was making me stronger so he'd do it more often. What he didn't like was me talking back because that he couldn't control but he still tried to. When I became the leader and changed everything, my mother tried to manipulate me into giving them back their titles and when I refused she basically disowned me. My father, well, he got physical. He tried to talk some sense into me with his insults and when I wouldn't listen he threw a glass bottle at my head. I luckily managed to dodge it but when it shattered against the wall some of the shards flew off and stuck in my arm." He says. "After that I wasn't going to just let him get away with it. I punched him, hard in the face. We got into a huge fist fight, I wasn't doing that great against him, since he had years of additional experience at being the don, but I was able to hold my own until he decided to play dirty and bring weapons into it."
"I don't understand how people can hurt their own children."
"That's something I'll never be able to understand." Blaine says.
"And I get what you mean about Vanessa. My dad wasn't Sidney's dad so Sidney doesn't have a clue about anything that happened. It hurts to feel alone and to feel like you can't tell anyone. Even though I'm glad that my brother was safe, I'm envious that I wasn't."
"You're not alone anymore, you have me." It shocks me that he's being so open and sweet with me it makes me feel a sort of affection towards him.
I'm opening up to him in ways I never have with anyone else. I'm not exactly sure why but he makes me feel seen.
I lay on my back and look up to the ceiling.
I let out a deep breath.
"The night of my father's death, was it my fault?" I ask, looking to him for answers. "Even partially?"
"No." He replies.
"But if I hadn't of-" I pause. "Then he never would've gotten angry or tried to punish me then maybe he would've gotten a chance to change."
"He was an alcoholic Cass, it doesn't take much to get them angry. He was continuously drunk driving, it was bound to happen one way or the other. He shouldn't have been driving while under the influence and he most definitely shouldn't have forced his own child to get in the car with him, ever. You're not at fault for his decision to hurt you." He says. "And I'm sorry, I basically did the same thing to you."
"Don't lose sleep over it." I say. "Each time he did it he was drunk, I know for a fact you weren't. He did it deliberately because he knew it would scare me, maybe you were trying to scare me too, I dont know, but you didn't know the history behind it."
"I wasn't trying to scare you, I was just angry that you wouldn't listen to me. If I knew I never would have done it. And yes, I knew about your father dying in a car accident but the file never said anything about you being there with him. Honestly, I didn't even think before I did it, it was a dick move and I'm sorry."
I shake my head, looking back up to the celing. "You don't need to apologise again, it sounds ridiculous compared to what I did."
"When you shot me? Per favore, that was child's play." (Please)
"Are you really insulting me shooting you?" I ask, stunned.
"At least you actually cocked the gun the second time around." He says, giving me a backhanded compliment.
"It's not like I make a habit of shooting people, I didn't acctually mean to shoot you."
"Remind me to never give you a gun when your nervous or in a high stakes situation or you'll accidentally shoot someone else. I don't know how you managed to pull that off, I was quite far away." He says. "Seriously though, don't worry about it, it's in the past. I've experienced a lot worse."
"Haven't you also killed people for less?" I ask.
"Yes, but you're different."
"How so?"
"I don't know, there's just something about you."
"Is that a good or bad thing?"
"Sei ancora vivo, vero?" (You're still alive aren't you?)
"You know I don't have a clue what that means." I state.
"It means you should go to sleep or you'll end up tired in the morning."
"Morning? Who said anything about morning?"
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