Inocencio Degrado lived in the heart of chaos.

With three brothers and three sisters, he was literally in the middle of the line. And there was never any quiet in his home.

Imagine having dinner in a stocky, low-ceilinged room, packed with too many people and things. The table was flanked with only six chairs, so the younger ones had to perch on stools--eyes barely visible over the table or opted to sit on the floor.

The air hung with smells of dinner's meal, but also sour sweat. Loud voices shouted over everyone else's, Little Miguel's grubby fingers trying-not-so-subtly to steal slices of pie without washing his hands. His older brothers talking to each other in low voices, his one elder sister Sophia glaring at him for no reason at all

Splat!

Pie fillings smooshed his cheeks. He frowned and swatted them aside, turning to the laughing Miguel. "Stop that."

"Stop that," he mocked.

Little Isabella chimed, "Ma, Miguel and Ino are fighting!"

"Ino," Ma said sternly, cutting food for the girl. "Don't fight with your brother."

"He started it!"

"You're older."

He groaned. Everything was much too loud.

He wondered if that old childhood friend he met--sweet, scrawny Bijou Legrand who had been absent for years--would ever have to face something like this. Probably not. From his visit, the boy was still nose-deep into books, and Master Legrand always seems like a distant man.

Years ago, he would stay over at Bijou's house with his eccentric but kind grandmother; just the three of them.

All to escape this chaos.

He shoved the remaining food down his mouth, and rushed to the sink. He wanted no more of this mayhem. Sixteen years was too much time spent in this madhouse. All he wanted, at that moment, was to get to his room.

The stairs creaked under his feet, and he cringed. He swore the house was falling apart by the minute.

At least, he could get temporary quiet.

The view out the window showed the lovely scenery of a setting Sun. The sky was in a gradient of red and orange, the Sun like an ethereal circle, shining against the darkening backdrop. A flock of birds joined in on the beauty, circling trees gliding over a blanket of waves.

He took it in, sighing with contentment. Something clicked inside him--mind and heart--capturing every part of the landscape into his memory. Almost immediately, he tore off a small square from his collection of papers, grabbed his brush from under his pillow, and began painting.

The red paint was the only color he could afford. He tried not to be bothered by it--he knew his parents had worked hard to raise seven children, and there were not many opportunities open to them when they arrived in France years ago--pregnant with their first child.

Heck, he was lucky enough that they were supportive of his interests, so long as he still helps out at work.

But sometimes he would stare at his paintings, and couldn't help but long for them to be of different colors instead.

His hand moved as a part of him, naturally stroking the brush against his canvas. There was something about landscape paintings that sparked something inside him. Maybe it was the stillness of the painted moments, forever remaining in that calm trance.

He squinted at his work, wagging the end of the brush.

"No, no." he sighed. To him, it was a messy puddle of reds. But to anyone looking, it would've looked like the work of a talented boy, doing the most with what he had. Lo and behold, the perception of artists were odd things. "It's horrible."

His face fell into his hands. Was he ever going to get it right?

He clung to this hobby as if his life depended on it. It was the few things that kept him apart from his siblings, who all looked alike. And after his friend had moved away for years, he wanted it to remain.

Bijou didn't even remember him. His chest ached a little. But he couldn't blame him, it wasn't his responsibility to.

Also, that boy kept avoiding Inocencio's shirt.

"He wore a waistcoat," he snickered. And his infant sister had grown. "That pretentious lad."

Inocencio looked back up, leaning his back to the wall. His eyes traveled over his works and stopped at his most prized masterpiece.

It was the city of Paris. At least, the Paris they showed in catalogs.

He stumbled upon a flyer that one day--practically spread on the floor like the autumn's dropped leaves, telling of an Exposition Universelle, and the much-talked-of Eiffel Tower. The vintage, elegant aesthetics. Open galleries and artworks of the century being displayed to the world. 

He was only six at the time, but he held on to that wonder that clouded his head.

*****

Inocencio had been awake.

For long as Bijou remained at the window and contemplate within himself and not-so-subtly snuck out, he was aware the whole time. After all, he was used to being alert for mischievous siblings playing pranks on him.

The Fae. Such madness always came from that boy. But Inocencio found it intriguing, how his innocent friend could attract so much trouble from the unknowns. His sister's taken by the Fae.

Legrand appeared different than the last time he visited. He was a mess, as if the threads that feigned his cover were pulled and revealed. His wide eyes grew tired, the princely golden hair shaggy from being rummaged through so much. His boyish face was tight, brooding, and silent.

He must have truly treasured his sister.

Inocencio had three. Frankly, if you asked him, he would be glad to be rid of one of them...for a while. But he would miss them.

They took my sister, he played back the strained voice in his head. To Paris.

Paris.

He shifted, looking back at his prized painting. Bijou wanted to go there.

What if...he followed?

Finally go to Paris, with the 1900 Exposition Universelle still being held.

His heart leaped, and he did too on his feet. That was it.

Inocencio Degrado was going to Paris.

And...done! Inocencio comes from a big family, and he wants to go to Paris. Also, maybe you guys should keep an eye out for Sophia 👀👀I have something planned for her, literally while writing this.

Also, I just noticed that the Degrados are like the Weasleys lol. Their numbers are the same by complete accident 😂 I guess Bijou is Harry then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What do you guys think? Please vote and tell me your opinions :) Next up, the adventure begins (finally, I know)!! Stay tuned!