‘You know what I hate the most, Casimir?’ 

Hearing the voice, Cas’ blood ran cold. He immediately stood up, but it was too late.

Johan emerged from a corner of the room and made his way toward the instrument. Instead of the usual passiveness, his vacant eyes were filled with a terrible resentment that Cas had never seen. 

It was no use trying to hide his shock. Cas’ heart grew frantic, the blood rushing against his ears, his face. Of realisation, perhaps, or the expectation of what was to unfold. 

‘I can deal with your atrocious organisation, always succeeding in misplacing my clothes with Xander’s. But this...’

‘Johan, I—’

‘You’re a goddamn liar.’

‘Please, I can explain.’ 

‘Father and Xander may not have thought it possible that you would dare defy them, but I knew there was something. Your first mistake, is forgetting that minors can’t work more than a certain amount of hours per week. And yet, you left day after day without a thought. The rest was simple enough. Of course Father knew where you worked, and all it took was one phone call to realise your hours are scheduled for weekends only.’ Johan’s mouth shifted into a cruel laugh. 

‘I speculated what it was that you’ve been scurrying off to, until Xander found your letter. It wasn’t already shameless that the standards of your work here had started to become questionable, but you’ve even used our music room to fulfil your needs.

‘Even so, I wonder who had been foolish enough to want to duet with you. Not that it matters now.’ 

Before Cas could form words, Johan went to the chest of drawers and drew out a few familiar manuscripts that were once safe under the floorboards in his room. Their colours were slightly faded, the sheets fraying on the edges. Upon seeing this, Cas’ breath trembled. 

‘Give it back,’ Cas said. Johan merely stepped aside when Cas tried to reach out for them. But even so, his gestures were too tentative. Too afraid. ‘Please, give them back.’  

‘So demanding. If you’re going to beg, shouldn’t you do it properly?’ Alexander interrupted. He and Silas had entered, but Cas didn’t glance at them. There were only the scripts in Johan’s unforgiving hand, and the ache pressing against him.

There was a long pause. Cas searched Johan’s unwavering gaze, not knowing what it was that he sought. A slight warmth. A chance to make amends and that somehow, he would understand. That somewhere within, there was that calmness that wasn’t entirely unreachable. 

When it appeared that Johan had no intention of relenting, Cas knelt on the floor. 

‘Please, Johan. Please give them to me. You have no need for them.’  

‘All this fuss for a few sheets of paper,’ Alexander said. ‘It’s pathetic.’ 

The sounds were raw against the ear as Johan tore through the manuscripts viscously, the fury in the act not matching the muted hatred in his eyes. 

‘No!’ Cas stood, only for Alexander to block his path. Unable to reach Johan, he could only watch as shredded remains of the music scores littered the floor like confetti. 

‘Stop, please stop.’ Cas’ voice wavered at the scene before him. He couldn’t free himself from Alexander’s grip. ‘Please, Johan. I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. Please stop.’ 

Cas apologised again and again, but Johan did not stop. When the last of the music sheets fell from Johan’s grasp, it was only then Alexander released him. 

Silas rose from the chair he’d been sitting on, and gestured at Johan and Alexander to wait in the car. They were still early to set off for the competition, but the pair obeyed. Silas walked toward Cas, who hadn’t moved.

The slap shocked the silence, and with the burn on Cas’ face came the threat of tears. The manuscripts began to blur, a cacophony of whites and blacks and pinks and yellows, teetering at the edge of fusion.

‘Is being deceitful what you have become? I gave you my trust, and yet this is what I receive in return.’ 

Silence. Then Cas spoke, his voice slightly muffled. ‘I’ve never asked you for anything. I will accept what you do to me, so please. Please let me go.’

‘You’ve already done as you’ve wished all this time, and you still dare to ask?’ 

Cas didn’t speak. 

‘You are not to leave the manor. If I find out you were at the institution tonight, don’t expect to receive your mother’s funds. I will deal with you when I return.’ 

Without waiting for a response, the door slammed shut, and the faint rumblings of the car slowly drew into an overwhelming silence. 

With a trembling hand, Cas reached gently for the scraps of paper. He looked around the sea of white, where Lily’s manuscripts were now reduced to nothing more than jagged lines and broken notes. He clutched the remnants against his chest, tears slipping down his face. 

After a few moments, Cas pulled himself together and wiped his eyes. Assuming there was no funds to be had, and no scholarship that existed, Cas could still work at the restaurant. It paid better than most, and he would consider taking qualifications to tutor in piano later on. Whatever happens, he’ll be alright. 

It was the thought of Erik that finally made Cas take up his coat. The cold night air drew fingers through his hair as he ran, the barest trace of hope lingering as he waited for the bus to arrive.