Ziya

T H R E E

ZIYA

Today's my first day off in so long and guess where I am.

A museum.

Now a lot of people would think it's boring and that there is nothing to do there but guess what, I don't care. It brings me peace. The way the art is created to form a story, giving an insight into someone's life and their choices. It's so interesting.

I am strolling around Victoria and Albert Museum when I notice a tall figure standing on the opposite side of the room. Their back is to me, but they seem way too familiar. Breathe Ziya, it's not him, he's in Italy. He's too far.

I hadn't realised I sat on the bench until I felt the cool feel of the polished wood underneath my fingertips. Exhaling a breath, I turned my attention to the piece of art in front of me, studying the brush strokes of the portrait. After a few minutes, a looming presence was beside me, radiating heat.

Should I turn? No that's stupid. Don't be a creep Ziya.

"Beautiful, no?" The stranger spoke, breaking me free from my inner lecture.

"Yes, but sad too" I whispered.

"Sad? Why would you think that?"

"Well, if you look into the eyes, you can see the pain that is hidden underneath the gleam. You can notice how the mask that helps hide their emotions is slipping and despair is shining through the orbs. Like they're calling out for help. I'm sorry, I'm just rambling." I hurried out after examining the portrait.

"Don't apologise. I like hearing about what people think. Thank you for sharing." Now I took the time to turn and look at the stranger. He was the man from the diner. One of the ones who looked sad. His eyes are really pretty. They're like a hazel colour. So pretty.

"Do you like art?" The stranger asked. Softly smiling at him, I returned my gaze to the picture. "Yeah, it brings me peace looking at them. How about you?" I could feel his stare burn into the side of my head.

"Yeah, I love it." He softly spoke. "What's your name farfalle?" 

Farfalle? That's a familiar word. Where have I heard it?

"Ziya. And yours Mr Hazel eyes?"

The man stared at me with so many emotions swirling in his pretty irises.

"Oh my. Did I offend you? I really didn't mean to! I only called you Mr Hazel eyes because they're so pretty and so hazel they remind me of Autumn. Please don't hate me, I'm sorry. I'm really so-"

"Farfalle, don't stress. I think it's funny. My name is Caleb il mio piccolo." Caleb assured, calming me with his soft voice. 

Caleb raised his hand and on instinct I flinched. Hurt and anger flashed through his eyes as he put both hands up, as if to assure me he wasn't going to harm me.

"If you need someone to come look at paintings with, I will gladly take that opportunity. Here's my number mio piccolo. Don't be afraid to text me, okay?" Caleb handed me a little piece of paper with his number scrawled on the inside. After waiting for me to nod, he got up, smiled at me and then turned on his heel to leave. 

Well, that was an oddly calming interaction.

Something about Caleb made me feel at ease. It made me feel like I was safe near him.

Crazy. You've officially gone crazy Ziya!

Adding Caleb's number into my phone, I got up and left the museum. My legs took me home where I stumbled onto the little mattress that was laying in the corner of the 1 bedroom apartment I lived in. Huffing out a breath, I slowly closed my eyes. Dreaming of a life before the torment took over and made me a scared little girl.

Maybe life will get better. I have a feeling it will. Please let me be right.

~''~

CALEB

Ziya.

I found her.

12 years.

We have searched for her for 12 years and I happen to stumble upon her twice in one week.

The way she attempted to cheer me and Mateen, my twin, in the diner just hit something so familiar in me. The way she giggled made my insides scream out for me to notice. Seeing her again at the museum was purely fate. And when she told me her name, I felt like I could burst out crying.

But something was different.

The light that used to shine through her beautiful jade orbs had dulled significantly even when she was smiling. She looked so tired.

Speeding through the streets, I prepared myself for what was about to happen.

None of us had been the same since Ziya was taken from us. We became a shell of the family we once was. Mama barely talked to anyone outside of the house. She barely went out as much. Papa became more ruthless. He only let his hard exterior break in front of Mama and us sometimes. My brothers all handled the situation differently. Marco threw himself into work and killed his emotions, turning them all off becoming the second most lethal in comparison to Papa. Callan busted his ass working to become a walking encyclopaedia for all medical shit. Lorenzo and Mateen turned to violence. Boxing and underground fighting where their drug of choice for coping. I turned to art and not speaking as much. I'm pretty sure people at school thought I was mute, but fuck it, I didn't care what they thought of me. Zayn pushed himself in sports. Football, Hockey, Cricket, Basketball. You name it, he's done it. The athletic little shit.

"Mama, where is everyone?" I asked as soon as I entered the living room.

"Everyone is either in the gym or their offices jaan. What's the matter baby?" 

"I'll explain when everyone comes down." Using the house's intercom system I buzzed everyone to come downstairs. This couldn't wait. This had to happen now.

A good 5-10 minutes later, I was staring at my family's faces as they sat in front of me. All my brothers sporting a scowl apart from my twin who took one look at my nervous state and went rigid. He's figuring it out. I can tell.

"A couple days ago Mateen, Jae and I went to some diner not too far from here. There was this server at the diner that seemed familiar but I didn't think too much of it. Until today." I started. Everyone perked up a bit. Releasing a nervous breath, I continued. "Today I went to the museum, just checking up on my art that was there. I saw that server again and something pulled me in her direction. I just had to talk to her. So I did. And I found out her name. Ziya. I found her."

There.

It was out there.

Shit. I'm so fucking nervous right now.

As soon as I said her name everyone stood. Mama whimpered, her eyes releasing tears so quickly and Papa was the same.

"Caleb, this better not be a fucking joke. I will beat the shit out of you if you're lying right now." Lorenzo was the first to speak. "Cazzo Enzo, when have I ever bullshitted you guys? Why the fuck would I lie right now?"

"Well why the fuck is she not with you Caleb? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Zayn spoke with so much anger, it surprised me.

"I can't exactly force her to come with me can I? She has my number and I know she will use it, I can feel it. If she doesn't, I'll go to her work."

"How does she look? Does she look healthy? Is she okay? Where is this diner I need to see her for myself." Mama spoke up, walking towards me to hold my arm.

"Mama, she's beautiful. But she's changed a lot. There's something about the way her eyes are dull that pain me. She flinched when I was raising my hand to give her my number. Something happened to her and I will find out."

"We will bring her back son. We will find out who hurt our baby and make them pay. Right now, we need to see her ourselves." Papa spoke as he addressed us all. Holding Mama close as she sobbed quietly into his chest.

"We will bring you home Ziya. That's a promise mia piccola farfalle." Marco spoke up for the first time this evening. 

You're coming home Ziya.

And this time, we'll protect you with our lives.