The little boy with skin as pale as the moon and hair as golden as the sun's rays never knew, never was, but then, his heart dropped, then he knew and went. It was soon after you arrived in Oslo, in the spectacular neighborhood of the elite, your parents had gotten a job at the Chiaro Company. And that was where your week of wonders began. There were winter days that became warm, that seemed like bombs exploding and bubbling in their small intestines, a discovery brought by luck and perhaps destiny.

Alec, who didn't speak because he never felt the need to, was united with you, in a macabrely childish and bittersweet symphony. Whispering in the corners, growing together, understanding ideas through their eyes, each completing the other's sentences, creating a private infinity that belongs only to the two of you. Some worried, specialized professionals questioned themselves and delighted in their own creativity, but the money and power of the Chiaro Grimace empire can silence everything, including rumors.

Far from each other, getting sick, crying, your parents and Mr. Charles Chiaro and Mrs. Claire Chiaro knew well the benefits and drawbacks of the bond. But it remained that way, ten years of living together, being inseparable. Even during the tedious celebrations held by the company, the hall of the Chiaro mansion shining with velvet ornaments and refined silverware. The aroma of wine mixes in the air with the sounds of voices in the background and shines in the night that is gaining strength outside.

Alec: "My father always exaggerates, doesn't he? Starting a new company isn't a big deal, it was already expected to happen when I was in my mother's womb. The mansion always ends up filthy after these unfounded celebrations."

Alec whispers like a sublime gust of wind blowing past your ear, a habit that has remained since the two of you shared childhoods. Other Oslo businessmen have also joined the celebration, you and Alec together on the corner of a wall. Your parents and his parents, probably talking to one of their contacts, that's what these unnecessary events are for. The sky-blue eyes with a tired and mortified look follow your face, a sigh follows.

Alec: "Can we drop this already or should we wait until the toast?"