33
T he doors to the gallery were open.
Adrien was rooted to the spot, mind buzzed blank.
Anxiety seeped in through his every pore, eyes glued to the toes of his borrowed shoes.
He couldn’t look up for fear of what—of who he may see.
Around him, attendees were shuffling in, their voices bleeding together into a low drone.
Blake’s reassuring hand was his only tether back to earth, his only form of security.
“Do you need some more time?” Blake asked, the warm tones of his voice breaking through the frightful din. Adrien looked up to meet his eyes—warm-brown, patient, and steadfast—and something in the center of his body unlocked, the fear siphoning away.
Gratitude surging up in his chest, Adrien brought their conjoined hands to his mouth and laid a gentle kiss to the tips of Blake’s fingers. He shook his head, finally glancing at the throng of people.
“No,” he whispered, unsure if Blake could hear him. “I’m… I need to go in.”
On trembling feet, he made his way into the queue, gently tugging Blake along with him.
A woman with pink box braids was scanning tickets at the front door—Adrien recognized her from the Disneyland photo on Jessica’s Instagram.
With a strange twist in his chest, he realized that this woman was likely her wife.
One of the most important people to his sister, the one she had made her life with, was standing right in front of him, and he didn’t even know her name. The distance between them was disorienting.
“Have a great time!” she smiled, handing Blake’s phone back and gesturing into the gallery. “You can help yourselves to drinks and hors d’oeuvres over there on the right.”
“Is,” Adrien began, the word bubbling up from his throat hoarsely. He gripped Blake’s hand tighter, sweat pooling between their skin. “Is Ms. Marin here?”
“Jessie?” the woman asked, the apples of her cheeks compressing her eyes into glittering gems. “Yeah, she’s right over there by the Watatsumi display if you wanted to chat.”
The woman gestured at a wall of black breakaway partitions and Adrien followed the leisurely wave of her hand.
The pictures on display faded to a mess of mottled color, silhouetting the woman standing in front of them.
Adrien could only see her back: a dark blue evening dress and a waterfall of black hair curled at the ends.
One of her hands was on the shoulder of a large man dressed in a red button-up and with a jolt that numbed his chest, Adrien realized it was David.
“’Scuse me,” a preteen boy on Adrien’s left said, squeezing past him and making his way up to Jessica. A younger girl was hot on his heels, her hands balled up into excited fists.
“Ask her, ask her!” the girl chanted excitedly, pushing on the boy’s shoulders. He laughed, swatting at her hands.
“Hello, my beautiful mother!” the boy said, jogging up to Jessica’s side.
She turned her head and Adrien was struck by how unchanged she was—there were lines carved into her face that gave her a frightful resemblance to Joyce, but the moment Adrien realized they were laughter lines, the fear settled down into his gut.
“Yes, my beautiful son?” Jessica heaved a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm around him. “What do you want?”
The boy pulled his mouth into a little moue that almost made Adrien laugh—it looked just like the way Jessica would pout when she was little.
“What makes you think I want something?” the boy asked. “Don’t you think I wanted to tell my mother how lovely she looks at this beautiful gallery she’s arranged?”
Jessica rolled her eyes, reaching out to pinch one of her son’s cheeks. “A very likely story.”
“Actually,” the younger of the two kids crooned, sliding over to David’s side. “It’s not just something he wants.”
David laughed, ruffling her hair. His niece giggled, shrugging out from beneath his palm.
“Okay, what do you both want?” David asked. “Will ‘uncle money’ do, or is only ‘mom money’ sufficient?”
“Okay, while I would not say no to any type of currency, Livy and I were wondering if you’d mind us filming you talking about Watatsumi,” the boy asked, holding up his phone. “I wanted to make a video about him for TikTok.”
“Oh, so you’re trying to get views out of me?” Jessica snorted, turning fully towards him. A smirk curled up the side of her mouth as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Mom, he’s like America’s Banksy, and you’re the only person who knows anything about him,” the boy insisted. “We’d get tons of hits!”
“It would be so super cool and AJ promises to put half the funds from monetization into our college savings,” Livy chimed in, braiding her arms around one of David’s.
“You should humor them, Peanut.” David chuckled. “Sounds like they practiced this.”
Jessica sighed, shaking her head at her children in turn, but she was still smiling.
Adrien’s heart warmed to see her interacting with them—her gentle words and playful countenance soothed something inside of his chest, emboldened him to step closer.
With a parting squeeze, Adrien dropped Blake’s hand.
“All right, you little opportunists,” Jessica teased, gesturing behind her with a sweep of her hand. “Where did you want me to stand?”
“Right there is perfect!” AJ insisted, stepping to the side to adjust his angle.
Jessica turned towards him fully as David stepped out of the shot, giving her space. She fixed a piece of her hair, eyes briefly flicking around to those gathered. “Sorry, hope this isn’t—”
Her eyes fell upon Adrien’s and her voice died. The smile dropped from her mouth, lips parting.
Jessica didn’t move. She didn’t speak. The color drained from her face.
For one, horrific, agonizing moment Adrien was certain that he’d made an awful mistake.
Cold horror fluttered out from the center of his chest, trembling through his limbs, and he bit down a whimper trying to bubble out of his throat.
Everything around him faded to nothing, it was like he was staring down a corridor growing ever longer, time stretching out the distance between himself and his siblings.
“Start whenever you’re ready,” AJ insisted, his muffled voice breaking the spell. He lowered his phone, concern staining his tone. “Mom, are you okay?”
Jessica shook herself, tearing her eyes away from Adrien and presenting her son with a shaky smile. “Sorry. Someone over there…”
She looked back at Adrien with round, almost haunted eyes.
“Jess?” David frowned at her before looking over at Adrien as well.
The recognition was not as instantaneous, but a slow thing that blossomed over his face in layers: confusion, recognition, and finally sorrow.
“I…” he said.
Adrien took a step back, unable to bear the weight of their emotions stacked upon his own, the inevitability of their rage and their disappointment for his parting. Instead, he turned to leave, running straight into Blake’s chest.
“Babe?” Blake asked, steadying his shoulders with gentle hands.
“I—I have to go.” Adrien shook his head, eyes welling up with tears. “I have to—”
“ Wait !” Jessica called behind him and Adrien turned, the action sending tears coursing down his cheeks.
Jessica stood before him, her hands gripped into fists at her sides. She shook her head in disbelief, eyes going glassy as her chest heaved.
“You—” she began, voice honey-thick. “I’m—I’m so sorry, but you look exactly like…”
“Mom, are you okay?” AJ asked, approaching Jessica’s side and taking a protective stance in front of her. “Are they bothering you?”
Adrien’s mouth worked, but he couldn’t produce sound. He didn’t know what to say.
Jessica stepped out from behind her son, approaching Adrien with outstretched hands. It was impossible for him to shy away, allowing her to lay her trembling fingers upon his cheeks.
“ Jelly ?” Jessica sobbed, her face collapsing into grief.
“Hi Peanut,” Adrien croaked, his voice barely a whisper through his tears. Jessica sobbed a laugh, smoothing her thumbs in little arcs beneath his eyes, shaking her head in disbelief.
“ How ?” Jessica whimpered, grasping him a little tighter, stepping up closer. Her eyes were darting around his face, as if checking for some sort of imperfection, a sign that this was not truly her brother returned to her.
“Jess, who…?” David asked, stepping up beside his sister and setting a large hand upon her shoulder. He stared at Adrien in desperation, hand trembling at his side.
He was even more changed than Jessica, having grown taller than Adrien, almost as tall as Blake. He was built like a linebacker, bald save for a thick goatee and bushy eyebrows. For the first time in his life, Adrien felt small next to his brother.
“Are you really Adrien?” Jessica asked, and the equal amounts of hope and fear that Adrien saw in his siblings’ eyes would have made him lie even if he wasn’t.
“Yes.” He laughed through his tears. “Yes, I’m me.”
Jessica drew her brows together, eyes squeezed shut as she nodded.
“It doesn’t matter how,” she said, and then threw herself into Adrien’s arms.
Adrien caught her with ease, tucking her against his shoulder, cupping the back of her head. She fit there perfectly, like she always had.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jessica repeated, shaking her head against Adrien’s clavicle. She gasped in and sobbed out: “You’re here. You’re here .”
“Adrien,” David started, his hand hovering in the scant space between them. “A-Adrien, do you remember me? I’m your brother, I’m David—”
Adrien choked a disbelieving laugh and hoped that it was not a cruel noise. He reached out to grasp David’s hand in midair, tugging him close until his arms enveloped Adrien and Jessica alike.
“Of course I remember you!” he cried, hot tears coursing down his cheeks as he pressed their foreheads together. “I’d never forget you! Either of you!”
“Jess?” a voice behind them inquired and Adrien recognized it as that of Jessica’s wife. “Jessie, are you okay? Who—who is this?”
“It’s my brother!” Jessica sobbed into Adrien’s shirt. She pulled away and her face was a blotchy mess, makeup running down her flushed and patchy cheeks. “Kim, this is my brother Adrien!”
“Adrien?” Kim repeated in disbelief. “Didn’t your brother Adrien…?”
“Mom?” AJ asked, stepping up beside his mother, struggling to get a better look at Adrien’s face.
“Oh, baby.” Jessica wept, finally releasing Adrien and grasping for her son’s hand. She kissed his knuckles, pulling him into the huddle. “This is him. This is your uncle. This is who you’re named after.”
“You’re…?” AJ looked lost, glancing between Adrien and the dark partition behind him. “ You’re Watatsumi? You made all those?”
For a moment, Adrien was perplexed, unsure of what AJ was referring to. He followed his gaze back to the breakaway wall that his sister had been standing in front of moments prior. As he blinked away the tears clouding his vision, the squares upon it came into focus.
A hundred projects—photos of sculptures and murals, sketches and paintings and collages on cheap canvases and craft paper he’d thought had been lost to time. Each was displayed lovingly upon the gallery wall, curated with small placards.
Here, in the arms of his siblings. There, upon the wall of the gallery, in front of a hundred adoring eyes.
A space just for his art.
A place just for him.
But one person was missing.
Adrien turned, lifting one arm away from Jessica and extending it towards the man standing in waiting beside him. Who had been waiting beside him—giving him space when he needed, the comfort of his presence when he didn’t. All gentle words and calm, reassuring tones. His new half.
It felt wrong not to have him there, like a piece of the puzzle was missing.
“Come here,” Adrien said to Blake, beckoning him near. “Come meet our family.”