"Gilbert," Matthew said. The word was filled with every single emotion that Matthew could gather at this late hour. "What are you doing?"

"I… I don't know, but you look sexy." Gilbert smirked. His words were slurred. He was drunk.

"You've been drinking haven't you?" Matthew sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Come back," Gilbert muttered. "I miss you."

Matthew sighed for a second time, longer and louder, more exasperated. "You're going to be the death of me," he whispered with closed eyes.

"Can I come in," Gilbert wobbled for a moment. He grabbed the doorframe to regain his balance.

Matthew glanced behind Gilbert, it was really dark, and all but one of the streetlamps were burnt out. He didn't want Gilbert to hurt himself, no matter how much he hated him, so he just nodded."Sure. But if you puke on anything, I'm making you eat it."

"Okay," Gilbert laughed and stumbled to the couch, sitting down.

Matthew sat in a chair across from him and tried to get him to explain why the heck he was at Matthew's house at two in the morning, a mix of gin and rum and other alcohol lingering in every breathy word he spoke.

"It was after the party at the Italian dude's house. What's his name?"

"Feliciano. He's been dating your brother for a while now." He was astounded that he knew more about this than Gilbert did.

"Yeah. yeah. So I was at the bar, after the party thing, with Alfred, you know, your brother, and—"

"Step brother," Matthew interrupted.

"Yeah, ha, that. Anyway, he started talking about his new boyfriend. He's tall and Russian and super intimidating, but that doesn't really matter at all. Anyway, he started talking about this guy, and it made me think of you. So I called you, and you hung up on me."

"I know what happened." Matthew's tone was cold. This was the last thing he wanted.

"Anyway, I had a 'few' more drinks, and Alfred made me take a cab home. Lame. The driver asked me where I was… Where I was… Hold on." Gilbert stood and ran to the bathroom, and the noises he made in there were not pleasant ones.

Matthew cringed with every muffled retch he heard, and eventually the bathroom door flew open. Gilbert came back and sat in the exact same spot on the sofa as before.

"Where I was going. And I couldn't remember any address besides yours. So here I am." Gilbert smiled.

Matthew stood from his chair, walked over to Gilbert, and, without warning, slapped him across the face.

Gilbert didn't even look shocked, but he still rubbed the red spot on his cheek. "I deserved that."

"You did." Matthew sat back down. It was completely silent, and stayed like that for what seemed like an hour, but in reality was only a couple of minutes.

"I miss you," Gilbert said, breaking the silence but only creating more tension.

Matthew didn't know what to say. He did not miss Gilbert even in the least bit. He was glad to finally have the cheating asshole out of his life.

"I wish I could say the same," Matthew responded. He was, to say the least, pissed off. What was Matthew supposed to do with a drunk Gilbert at two in the morning?

"I don't understand," Gilbert slurred.

"That's a shame."

"I don't understand," he repeated. "Why you think you're so much better off without me."

Matthew wanted to be offended by this, but he just couldn't. There was no way that Gilbert made him a better person. Matthew was definitely headed in a better direction now that he no longer had to deal with Gilbert. "You know what I don't understand," Matthew started. "Is why you think I still care about you. You fucking cheated on me, and you cheated on some poor girl too, I just want you out of my life. Why won't you leave me alone?" Matthew didn't want to yell and risk waking Lovino up, but it was hard not to. Gilbert just made him so mad, so furious. He wanted to rip every stupid silver hair out of his arrogant head.

It was silent again, the only noise coming from outside as the occasional car drove by, most likely someone lost and stuck driving through back roads and run down neighborhoods to find their way.

"I miss you," Gilbert repeated, and through the crack in his voice, Matthew knew he meant it.

"I think you should go," Matthew replied. Letting Gilbert into his home was a mistake, especially at two in the morning.

Gilbert stared at the carpet on the ground for a good three minutes before breathing deeply, looking at Matthew, and standing. "I think you should go fuck yourself."

Matthew had expected that response, or worse. He was lucky.

"Maybe I will," Matthew retorted as Gilbert turned and stomped to the front door, making as many loud noises as he could on his way, almost as if he knew Lovino was sleeping only a few rooms away. He threw the door open, turned to Matthew, and looked at him like he was dying. "I hope I never see you again." He slammed the door.

With that, Gilbert exited Matthew's life the way he entered it: loud, reckless, and childlike. That was how Matthew would remember him, if he remembered him at all.

He had no idea what to do now. There was no way he was going to sleep, not after what had happened with Gilbert.

Matthew stood awkwardly, well as awkward as he could be in his own home, and looked at the items he had collected over the years, all gathering dust on his ten-year-old maple shelves. They were close to collapsing, and Matthew stood there, wishing they would. Half of the stuff on there had come from his relationship with Gilbert: a few framed pictures of them, a vase that Gilbert had made himself that was yellow and said, 'for Birdie,' and several other things that Matthew wanted to burn.

And in that moment, he snapped. He drifted over to the wall, and picked up the first thing he saw, which happened to be a picture of the couple at some random park Matthew didn't remember the name of. The frame was a gift from Arthur, Matthew's step dad. It was a red-orange color and had maple leaves on each corner. That was about all that was special about it, just an ordinary picture frame. It really suited Matthew's personality.

He remembered when Arthur got it for him. At first he thought it was an odd thing to give as a gift, especially for a birthday present.

July 1st, 2010:

Matthew was so excited. It was finally his fourteenth birthday, something he had been waiting for his entire life it seemed. As he woke, he didn't feel entirely different, as he expected, but the change was subtle. No, it wasn't puberty, as he had thought, but something felt… off.

He stood up and walked hazily to his bedroom door, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He slowly opened his door and stepped into the hallway, still feeling as though something was wrong.

However, he ignored his intuition and continued down the stairs to the kitchen. He peeked around the corner and saw Francis standing at the counter, phone held to his ear. Matthew didn't want to interrupt his dad's conversation, so he waited patiently by the doorway, just out of Francis's view.

It was hard for Matthew not to listen to his dad's conversation, considering how close he was. He was rambling about something in French, his native language, which Matthew didn't speak very well. He could pick up a few words like "birthday" and "important" but not much else. He wasn't exactly sure who Francis was ranting to, but the loud grunt that immediately followed his angry hanging up confirmed Matthew's suspicions. It was Arthur on the other line. What they were talking about, Matthew had no idea. He tried not to look too confused as stepped into the kitchen.

Francis turned from the window, out of which he was blankly staring, and looked at Matthew. Immediately, his look of disdain disappeared. He smiled and said, "Happy Birthday, Matthew," in his accented English.

"Papa, you don't have to speak English around me. I can speak French almost as good as you can."

Francis just laughed and set the phone on the kitchen counter. "Okay. Whatever you say."

Matthew rolled his eyes and sat at the corner table. He rested his head on his hand, waiting for Francis to finish breakfast. Every year, on Matthew's birthday, Francis made special pancakes. They tasted better than the one's he made on normal days. Matthew asked him about this one day, how he made pancakes taste so much better without taking any longer. Francis laughed in response and just said it was a secret.

The kitchen was dark this early in the morning, the sun barely risen, and all the lights remained off. Francis was never one to waste electricity, which made sense during summer. However, when it came to winter, and the house was cold, Matthew genuinely worried for his dad and him.

It was a small house that the two of them lived in, alone. It wouldn't take much to heat it. Matthew knew they weren't rich. They were far from it. He also knew Francis worked hard to support the two of them, taking as many hours at work as he could. Matthew was home alone a lot, which never really bothered him.

However, sometimes, when it was dark, and the house made strange noises, Matthew wished he had someone else. That was probably why he refused to give up his imaginary friend until he was ten. He still would probably never give up his plush polar bear he had gotten the day he was born.

Matthew had never got to know his real mom. She had died while giving birth, but Francis talked about her a lot, almost too much. He knew that they shared the same personality, as Francis described too often.

"Are the pancakes almost done," Matthew asked, trying to forget about his mom and the worries he had for his father.

Francis hummed in response and brought a plate to the table. He served the pancakes and then sat across from Matthew.

"Do you not have to be in early for work today?" It was a rarity for Matthew to eat dinner with his father, especially on a Thursday... or any other week day.

"I took today off. It's your birthday. I thought it would be fun to spend some time together."

"Oh." Matthew didn't know how to feel about this. He was happy to be spending the day with his dad. It had been a while since they had an entire day to themselves, but that meant Francis would have a lot of overtime later in the week. "So who were you on the phone with?" Matthew didn't want to seem rude, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"Arthur," Francis replied. "He told me to wish you a happy birthday for him."

"Oh. Tell him I said thanks." Matthew smiled and quickly ate his pancakes before they got cold.

It was quiet for a moment before Matthew got curious again. "So, what were you guys talking about?"

"Not much. Just what we normally talk about."

"I couldn't help but notice you sounded a bit angry." Matthew hated how he was acting, but he was not satisfied with Francis's answer.

"Oh, just the usual. We argue a lot. You know this."

"I know." Matthew looked down and pretended to be super interested in the pattern on the table.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I just want to know what you were arguing about."

"Nothing to do with you. We can talk about it later. For now, is there something you would like to do today?"

Matthew ate the last bit of pancake and thought for a moment. "Well, there is one thing."

Francis and Matthew sat next to each other on an intricately carved bench along the thin pathway. This was their favorite park in town, especially during this time of the year. The leaves were the greenest they've ever been, and the sun was shining, reflecting off of the morning dew. The grass surrounding them almost appeared to be covered in a million little stars.

"So," Matthew started, the silence between them beginning to feel awkward. "What were you two talking about? On the phone earlier?"

Francis broke his gaze away from the rising sun. "Oh. Yes. That. I will tell you. Just promise you will not get too upset. Please."

Matthew was getting anxious. Why would he get upset? "I promise."

"Thank you," Francis replied. He then turned to face Matthew and without wasting time, he said, "Arthur wants us to move in with him and Alfred."

"What!" Matthew stood up, completely surprised by this news.

"Matthew, please sit down." Francis grabbed his son's arm and pulled him back onto the bench.

"You haven't even known each other that long. How could… how can…" This was the last thing Matthew wanted at the moment. If they moved, Matthew would have to switch schools. He'd have to make new friends, something he was not good at. Worst of all, he'd have to put up with Alfred every single day.

Matthew didn't mind seeing Alfred once a month or every other week, but there was no way he could deal with the annoying teen on a daily basis.

Matthew had to stop this at any cost.

"I know this is weird, but Arthur insisted. He knows about our… financial situation. He wants to help."

"Yeah. Help by ruining my entire life!" Matthew wasn't trying to sound this selfish, but he was frustrated.

Francis sighed. "I am sorry. I care about you, Matthew."

The frazzled teenager had finally calmed down enough to be civil. "I know you do, papa. I'm sorry."

"I also have more bad news."

Matthew looked up, his anxiety becoming worse as his father avoided his eyes.

"I was fired from my job. They couldn't afford to keep me, along with a few others."

His vision distorted by tears, Matthew couldn't make out the expression on his father's face, but he knew it was something that would make him even sadder.

"Okay," Matthew whispered. "It's gonna be okay." He wrapped his arms around his father and comforted him until the sun was suspended all the way above the horizon.

Although this wasn't one of his best, it certainly wasn't Matthew's worst birthday. Not by far.

On the walk back home, Francis's head perked up and he gasped. "I almost forgot," he started before reaching into his pocket. In his hand was a small rectangular package, about the size of a small book. "Arthur got this for you. For your birthday."

It was wrapped simply with only white tissue paper and thin red ribbon to keep it from opening.

Matthew took it from Francis and smiled to himself. He couldn't tell what it was, but it didn't weigh much. He decided to wait until he got home to open it.

Sitting in the living room, Francis was grinning as he watched Matthew open his gifts. There weren't many to open, but he tried his best to get Matthew everything he wanted, which, fortunately, wasn't too much.

Matthew became more excited with every gift he opened: a hockey stick (he knew it was probably a hand-me-down, but it didn't matter to him), a new sweatshirt, and a DVD of a season from his favorite TV show. He couldn't have been happier.

When he got to the gift from Arthur, Francis's expression turned from excitement to curiosity. Arthur didn't tell Francis what it was that he got when he told him to give it to Matthew. He hoped it was appropriate.

Matthew had successfully removed the tissue paper, and for a moment, there was a look of confusion on his face. He realized that it was a picture frame, but why? It was an odd gift, but he was grateful for it, so he smiled and promised he would thank Arthur the next time he saw him.

"Are you happy with your gifts," Francis asked eagerly.

Matthew nodded profusely. "Thank you very much." He hugged Francis and ran to grab his camera. He wanted to put his new picture frame to use so it could collect dust on his shelf, but still mean something to him.

Present Day:

The picture frame brought back so many previously forgotten memories that Matthew didn't realize his eyes were starting to tear up. Once again, he glanced at the picture in the frame. Gilbert was happy. Matthew was happy. They thought they'd be happy. They were wrong.

And out of nowhere, Matthew threw the frame to the ground with all the force of his anger. It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces of orange and red, along with shards of glass, but the photo remained undamaged. He grabbed it off of the ground and tore it up, letting the flakes of paper float to the ground and join the other mess of Matthew's past.

Looking at the pile on the floor, his knees gave out along with whatever had been keeping him from crying, and he sank to the ground, where he became the sobbing mess he once promised himself he would never be again.

He looked back up at the unstable shelves, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than for them to fall down on top of him.

A/N: Ahh. It's been so long since I've updated. I apologize, but school has really taken up the majority of my time, so I haven't been able to write as much as I would like to. Hopefully I'll be updating more often, but I never know what might come up. So again, sorry and I hope you enjoyed it!