Flashbacks

"Why?" enunciates the colleen, fixing herself up, a threatening foretelling of her manipulating capabilities, getting ready to demand the answers of every doubt swirling in flames within her head, "Why am I not allowed to know about this Noe or whatever his name is? I love Lorenzo and he loves me too, and that is precisely why I have all the rights to know about him."

"Rights!" chuckles Mrs Andros humorlessly as she goes near the bedside table in the room, her heels making clicking sound of power,"You are talking about having rights over Lorenzo? I, being his own biological mother, doesn't have rights over my own son. Listen here kid. When it is about Lorenzo, the only ruler is Noe Stalder," she says, emphasising the noun while staring at something in front of her with… mixed emotions? "Lorenzo loves no one… no one except himself, which was taught to him by Noe."

The face of the unnamed, yet untamed lady twists in ugly feelings of jealousy and pure loathe as she hears Mrs Andros speaking those words. Wheels of schemes turn in her mind as she makes her mind to destroy this thorn named Noe from the path of her future. Without wasting any further moment she stomps her way towards the older woman lost in her thoughts.

"Mrs Andros," she grits out trying to control the burst of envy swirling inside her, "Tell me who this Noe is? I do not wish any third person between Lorenzo and me," she asks again without realising who the actual 'third person' is in this context.

Mrs Andros hufs in amusement as she turns around to look directly in the eyes of the oblivious girl, "Today's youth is really stubborn, isn't it? Okay, I will tell you about Noe. But do not blame me if your heart breaks and ego cracks after this," says Mrs Andros with visible smugness in her voice.

Turning around again to stare at that particular spot the older lady begins the journey into her memory lane, "I first saw Noe on one of my visits to the orphanage with Lorenzo tagging along with me…

16 years ago,

The scene unfolds within the walls of Hankering Arms Orphanage, a compassionate sanctuary situated amidst the gentle arms of nature away from the busy and cruel city life. The orphanage was a sprawling structure with neatly trimmed gardens and whitewashed walls that echoed a sense of peace.

Entering the common area, one will witness a myriad of children guiding their way through daily activities, cherishing the moments of childhood. A vibrant energy fills the room, bustling with laughter and chatter as restless children play and share stories. Among the crowd, there was a quiet presence that caught the attention of those observant enough to notice.

Amidst the commotion, a young boy stands apart from the rest. His demeanour is gentle and unassuming, his face adorns with an earnest, yet subtle, smile. While his silence might have caused him to blend into his surroundings initially, his charm resides in the way he carries himself, revealing a wisdom beyond his years.

Despite his reticence, there is an undeniable charm about the boy that draws others to him. His deep brown eyes hold a glimmer of curiosity that invites conversations, and his slight smile hints at hidden stories waiting to be shared. It is as if his silence holds a gentle magnetism, pulling people towards him effortlessly.

Nestled among his belongings, the reserved boy carefully safeguards a cherished set of paintbrushes and tubes of colourful paint. Whenever there was a moment to spare, he retreats to a quiet corner under a sunlit window, surveying the world outside with a quiet curiosity. With a serene focus, he brings his paintbrush to life, caressing the canvas with strokes of brilliance and capturing the essence of the world he longed to explore.

In this bustling orphanage, the young soul , with his gentle demeanour and passion for painting, stands as a testament to the power of art and the resilience of the human spirit. His quiet charm reaches out to people, beckoning them to witness the world through his eyes, and kindling a spark of inspiration within those he encounters. For in the picturesque world he created, hope and dreams blossomed, promising a future brightened by the vibrancy of colour and the immeasurable beauty of the human spirit.

While the bustling room echoes with stories and laughter, it is the quiet boy with an enchanting aura, who has become the heart of the orphanage. Despite the absence of a family to call his own, he had created a sense of belonging for himself and others within those walls.

Present,

"As I left the orphanage that day, the image of serene presence lingered in my mind. The unassuming yet charismatic boy had taught me that true influence doesn't always rely on loud voices or grand gestures, but on the genuine connections we cultivate in the silence," finishes Mrs Andros with a small smile of pride, "And my Lorenzo definitely failed to resist the charm and they were then inseparable. Going to the same primary, same elementary, middle school and then high school," the elder woman says with a nostalgic expression.

"You know even if Lorenzo didn't say it directly to me I can sense with the passage of time their friendship blossomed into something so pure and so fragile that even I was scared to pry on it thinking even a small touch will crumble it down," she continues her narrative observing the silence from her listener, "I have never seen my Enzo so happy and ecstatic but…," as if words get stuck in her throat, Mrs Andros pauses.

Even though the unnamed girl was burning with jealousy, she cannot resist the urge to ask, "But what?"

"Their dynasty collapsed. Six years ago, one night Lorenzo came home so devastated and lifeless that I refused to believe for a few moments that is my son. He kept uttering only one phrase…'Noe is a liar'. After that Lorenzo was forcefully put into coma for two weeks," words come out in a painful sigh and she finishes her narration with the painful enclosure, "We got the news that Noe had died in a fire accident."

"Dead?" an apathetic laugh echoes in the room, "Oh! So all this drama for a man who has been sleeping in his grave for six years. Listen Mrs Andros I will make Lorenzo forget this boy and I will make him mine."

"Sure. I would love to see you try. Now please get out of my house. I have tolerated filth like you for longer than my preference," Mrs Andros says with disgust in her voice as she watches the woman go out of the room, slamming the door behind, "I hope you get success. Only after forgetting that boy Lorenzo will accept Emilia," she says going out of the room while giving one last look towards the photo frame on the bedside table containing the photo of two young boys in high school uniform with blinding smiles and eyes holding only innocence and love.