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Paris Holmes was many things, but he was never good with expressing his true feelings. There had never been a need for it. His Father, Sebastian, couldn't care less about him and his Mother, Elise, was too drugged to care as much as she would have wanted.

But there was one person he could never pretend to. She always knew what he was thinking. Always knew how to get his real emotions out.

And she couldn't remember any of that.

At the beginning, he agreed to whatever she wanted. Space? He could do that. He could do without her, for a while. That was fine. And sometimes, he found himself staring at Marcos, following him, but never speak to him. Or say anything.

He couldn't help the feeling that everything was his fault. That he always did things like this. Destroyed good things. Plus, he felt better being able to watch over him from afar.

Many times, Marcos had gotten too drunk at the parties he went to and he was the one always taking him home. Or helping him out with his tests. Or pay