The weeks after, Franco reestablished his position in the intellectual circle despite Jacques’ betrayal. Though he’s not fully blind, his hardships to do ordinary tasks are not easier. Many blind communities tend to gate-keep from the likes of him, saying he doesn’t have it as hard. He built his own support group where he helps all kinds of blind people, totally blind and everything in between, to get into the professional world.
He took braille classes here and there, changing his documents and paraphernalia into dots and touchy-feelies. The intellectual circle is really supportive to the point of calling him real-life Matt Murdoc. But he’s no Matt Murdoc. And he’s done being a dare devil. He’s just a simple paralegal trying to pass the upcoming Bar Exam. Good thing he’s got friends to help him.
He’s especially thankful of Gwaine, who had stopped his flirting ways and actually got serious for one man, Percy. Percy is about to be an official San Diego in next two months and he’s never been happier for the little man who underwent some greatest pressures in life.
Percy still needs some therapy, and Gwaine supports him all the way.
Today, Franco decides to witness the inauguration of the new Governor and his running mates. He cannot see his face, but he can hear the crowd saying he looks good in person.
A sudden glint of gold approached his right vision. It could be any short blond, honestly, but the smell of strawberry Frappuccino with some expensive floral perfume can only come from one certain sea farer.
“All these people are praising this new young Governor just because of his looks.” Franco started.
Quinn smiled from sipping his Frappe. “He’s a lot better than that communist.”
“Yep. Easy to control, am I right? It’s almost like you yourself are taking the office.”
“It won’t be me, dear Franco.” The blond said sadly.
“What do you mean? You’re chickening out in the middle of the game?” Franco chuckled humorlessly, realizing how Quinn got serious.
“I’m going back to the sea. I’m leaving New York.”
The crowd cheered loudly, making both man decide not to converse for a while. They wait the crowd to calm down.
“I’m still staying.”
“You stupid… I don’t understand you!” Quinn fumed.
“My life is better here. It’s not just about you. Have you heard about the circle I formed? A different governor may have won, but we’ll make sure he’s not going to run it like it’s his own little capitalistic turf and gather a plethora of high society idiots. New York is also my home. It’s not just about you.”
Quinn sighed. He gets it. Franco has a lot of valid points in staying. His messiah complex is acting up, but taking it to a state-wide level this time. The sea farer is actually afraid of what part of his limbs or organ this stupid paralegal could lose for the sake of the many. This, and many reasons, made Quinn realize that it’s not actually Messiah Complex. Franco is just really a selfless hero, formed by years of mental torture and unfair treatment.
“Your father was wrong about you, Franco. He’s probably the worst psychologist I’ve ever heard of.”
Franco laughed out loud. “Did you hear that, Dad?”
“Yes.” Grumbled an old man on Franco’s left. Quinn confusedly stared at the man who was listening intently on the inauguration. He’s old and weary, but his eyes show fire and grumpiness that he’d seen Franco wear many times.
“My dad came over from Brooklyn cuz he decided to take care of me. Isn’t it sweet! I also vented everything I had to say so we’re good now. I’m making things hard for him, but he can’t really complain. Right, dad?” and the paralegal followed it with laughter. The grumpy old man just cussed silently in Italian but didn’t bat a single glare to his blind son.
Quinn was taken aback. Okay, maybe Franco doesn’t have messiah complex. He’s literally a forgiving messiah.
“Do you think I should forgive my mother, then?” Quinn asked.
“Meh, it’s your choice. Just because I forgave my dad doesn’t mean ‘everybody should be as holy as me,’” He said making air quotes by lifting both his hands – including the one holding the crane – in which his dad cussed because he got off-balance. (Little fucker forgetting he’s also limp). “I mean my dad was probably more damning, nurture wise, right dad? But your mom left you a scar that hurts you in a different way. And pain is relative. Nobody’s forcing you to forgive her quick. Take your time. Work it out in your own phase and liking.”
Quinn can’t help but smile. He realized that he can leave Franco here, in the safety of his father (who just reestablished the Italian-American New York Mafia, but only Quinn and his spies know so far), his many suitors, the intellectual circle, and the people of New York who will never help liking this man.
He’s safe here.
“Well, I’m off to sea.”
“Good luck, Captain.”
“Good luck, future attorney.”
However, before the golden glint could get away, Franco reached out to it and gave Quinn's lips a shortly passionate goodbye kiss.
"We'll meet again."
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Tensions and Attentions
Humor[Completed, new upload] [Book 2 of Bro of my Life] In the High Society Upper East Side of New York, tensions happen. Quinn is a pompous, bratty, and genius capitalist, while Franco is a simple political advisor/activist who just wants to punch his f...
