𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓-𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 (old) | vento aureo

undici; LISTEN, THE BIRDS SING

From a young age, you learned three simple truths about your family - one, it was massive, to the point of every holiday you'd meet new relatives who would tell you how much you've grown. Two, your family was powerful, both because of its legacy and many years of longevity, but also because of the sheer size of it - the more people you know, the more connections you have.

Three - any of them would die for you without a second doubt.

When you were born, during a splendid morning of a mid-spring sunny day, you mother was still the Head of the family. She was kind, caring, and a hopeless romantic. You never saw her with a frown on her face, nor did you ever see her cry.

She was also a powerful Stand user, so it was a surprise for many when she fell in love with a simple Italian baker - your father.

Their names, Denise and Luca, were neatly engraved on a marble pillar that stood in the entrance of your home in France, as did the names of everyone who became part of the family, either born, adopted or wed.

Everyone had weird families, you've learned over the years, but your was definitely... something special.

Your dad was the complete opposite of what you would imagine when you'd hear the words 'mafia boss'. The first thing one would notice was his smile, bright and genuine, lips always slightly chapped but emitting such warmth, you'd be temped to smile too. He was hardworking and honest. He didn't mind being a wallflower, as some would say. He left the spotlight to shine for others, while opting to offer his unconditional love and support from the sidelines. After your mother died when you were fourteen, he was forced to take care of the family for a little while, until you were old enough to step up, which took place two years ago, when you turned eighteen.

Then, there was your oldest brother, Julien. All of you were spoiled since birth, but you had a feeling your parents might have went a little overboard for him. At twenty-seven, he's already gotten four doctorates - in Literature, World History, Archeology and Latin. He was a man of culture, yes, spending his evenings in your mansion's giant library, engulfing himself in his studies. He'd always wear long, neutral-coloured cardigans over black button-down shirts, gold-rimmed glasses framing his dark and mysterious eyes. You'd call him an academic and an overachiever, but maybe it was because he was trying to have your parents' attention during his teen years, while they were mostly focused on the others, and not on him anymore. Poor, poor first child.

Frédéric, the second eldest, was the most insufferable man you've met. And you loved him for it. He would tease and annoy the shit out of everyone with his comments and dry jokes. He was twenty-four, and the musical genius of the family. Frédéric's style was more aligned to classical music, ironically, as he had the same name as many Renaissance musicians. Somehow, he and his boyfriend got along just fine, even though their taste in music was completely opposing one another. You'd associate him with the terms light, grace and elegance, his simplistic outfits letting his talent speak for it itself.

Being the third child, people would have expected there would be a lot of expectations to rise up to. However, never have any of you had to desperately try to get out of someone else's shadow - you were never there to begin with. As siblings, you all shared common interests, but were obviously unique in your own ways. Your identity was yours and yours alone to define, but for the sake of this paragraph, you were a people's person. You loved observing and analyzing people, their behavior, their feelings, their identity.
Sure, you were over-the-top, dramatic and extravagant, but you were also an incredibly hard worker - materialised in the fact you have received your degree in Human Physiology only after a year of attending a world-renowned university.

And lastly, Félix was the youngest, just having turned sixteen a few months prior. He was the sweetest, most caring little guy in the world, having a passion for science. He'd skip around the house in his graphic hoodies and mismatched socks, talking about space and computers and a bunch on things which you had no idea what they meant, but you'd see the innocent sparkle in his eyes and your heart would melt and you'd listen to every word he had to say. He was so incredibly smart, yet so empathetic and kind, you all tried your best to protect him from the darkness of the world. You'd hate yourself forever if something ever were to happen to him.