Feeling Incomplete

Prologue

.:*:.

"Ah," Evan's father paused and took a look at his wine glass, swirling the liquid around, "my boy is nothing but a spoilt brat."

Laugher shook around the table, shifting from one family member to another. Evan's heart sunk and he dipped his head, his eyes starting to glaze. His hands gripped onto the material of his pants, thoughts flooding his mind as he tried to decipher what his father truly meant. Was he... spoilt? No. Never, never, had Evan asked for something that he knew he wouldn't be able to get or even throw a fit when he was rejected, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. Was he a burden to his parents? His fingers tightened their grip when he heard his mother giggle.

She then chimed in, her voice awfully chipper, "And for someone so rich in ego, he sure doesn't care about his grades. They've dropped from a ninety-three average to an eighty-seven."

It was true; his academic abilities were being tested but the semester hadn't even ended yet.

It happened, again. Most, if not all, of his family, was sat there with him, laughing at him. The pang hit his heart once again and the silent stifles of his crying were overrun by his father piping in, "Oh, how macabre."

Evan wanted to leave the table. He wanted to not eat dinner and be alone. He kept his eyes on his plate when his aunt pointed his posture out, "I think the boy's crying! No need for that, lad. Man up and take it."

Fifteen. Evan was fourteen, turning fifteen. He hadn't done anything bad to his family, hadn't done anything illegal, hadn't even back talked to his parents, and for them to pull this on him, on his birthday, was sending him to a place lower than he had ever been. He bit the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath, letting the warm tears travel down his cheek before quickly wiping them away. He choked out a weak laugh and the rest of his family seemed to ignore him after that.

What had he done that day to deserve such ridicule? Was it merely the date? Were they joking? Evan's birthday was on the day of jest, after all, but even after fifteen years, he could never decipher mere humour from honesty. It was a bliss sometimes, to never know whether someone was deliberately being rude to you or not, so Evan usually took it as a joke and used his snark and edge to play off his emotions.

Being born to a moderately wealthy family, however, was not bliss. Evan never asked for anything and followed the rules almost religiously. Standards were high, higher than they should have been, and Evan could never do what he wanted. He never tried to change that, however, because he had seen the way his half-brother had been treated after he started to rebel.

A small nudge under the table, hitting Evan's left foot, sparked him back to the moment. He looked up and saw Wilson. The half-brother who he wished he could be.

Wilson gave him a pitiful smile and tilted his head, mouthing out "it's okay" to him.

Evan had never known Wilson to be any sort of reassuring or brotherly in the few years he'd known him, and it sent some sort of warm feeling to his heart. Evan nodded his head and mouthed back "thank you" before going back to zoning out the rest of his family and prodding at his dinner.

It had only been eight years since Evan had even known he had any other siblings, and he would never have even found out if his mother didn't divorce his father all those years ago and remarried Wilson's father. It completely changed Evan's world, mainly because Wilson was four years older than him, but also because it brought out the worst in his parents.

Constant fighting and yelling would be all that Evan would hear every night, every time he came home from school, every day and he managed to isolate himself and find comfort in his dark humour and hobbies.

It truly ruined Evan, however. He spent every night crying, twisting every thought he had inside of himself to remind himself why his parents were doing this. It was because of him, in his mind. School wasn't helping either. Evan was an outcast, for the first three years, only finding friends after he had embarrassed himself in his History class and found a group of equally awkward kids to hang out with.

He was just a joke to everyone.

Dinner had come to a slow end, finally finishing up after his father remarked on how pathetic he had been acting the whole day and his extended family chiming in to express their disapproval of him. Evan stayed at the table after everyone left. He was going to clean up and distract himself from the real world for a while.

Evan looked up for a brief moment to see if everyone had left, and everyone did, except Wilson. He really didn't want to deal with any more of his family and was surprised when Wilson just sighed.

"I'm sorry."

Evan didn't really know what to think or say to that. Wilson never apologized- to anyone about anything.

"I'm sorry all of this had to happen on your special day, again."

"Oh, it's fine," Evan whispered, "it's not your fault."

Wilson shrugged and looked at Evan, "Sure, it may not be my fault, but I'm partly to blame. I didn't do anything to stop it from happening. It's not fine."

"If you did, you would have been grounded, though," Evan quickly replied with, "and you've already gotten into so much trouble because of me. It's fine."

The only thing Wilson could let out was a sigh for a few moments. He ran a hand through his white hair and shrugged, playing with his curls, "Do you want your gift?"

"My what?" Evan's eyes widened.

He wasn't allowed to be given presents or gifts from anyone other than his mother, and his mother gave him none, to begin with. "You know-"

Wilson shushed him and abruptly stood up. He straightened out his formal outfit and he offered his hand to Evan, "Come on. I'll take you out for tonight. It's your special day, after all. Once you turn fifteen, you've finally grown up. You're never going to be able to have fun until you graduate from the Academy. Here, this is my treat for you."

Evan had never heard Wilson speak to him so nicely- hell, Evan had never heard Wilson speak nicely ever, so all of this was surprising to him.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Was all Evan could choke out, though.

"Because I can tell you're fed up. You need a break," Wilson paused and let out a breath, " I know what it's like- to be where you are, and sitting here, suffocating in the negativity isn't going to help."

Hesitantly, Evan's hand moved closer to Wilson's. He stood up and cautiously looked into Wilson' icy blue eyes, "Thank you."

.:*:.

Evan looked at his worn down leather jacket with a faint smile. That expensive, warm, leather jacket was his only birthday gift- from Wilson, none the less. He let out a small laugh. Who knew his bastard brother could be so nice?

His smile faltered and fell.

Too bad things changed.