Parker sat in front of his pen tablet computer in a row of ten other artists all doing the same. He stared blankly at the revision e-mail that'd just come in for the illustration he was currently working. "We'd like it to be happier, brighter," it said. "Focus more on the soda can. The product needs to sing. Family value. Big emotion!"

"What the fuck does that even mean?" he muttered to himself. The way the higher-ups spoke about design revisions was always like a completely foreign language. Big emotion?

He opened up the illustration file and picked up his stylus. Time to redo this whole thing, then. He was more exhausted than usual, not just from splitting time between this project and the last school project, which had been more intensive than most, but because he'd been fretting all day about the dinner he was going to have with Mom and Dad that night. They'd all but cut contact since he'd taken in his brother William and his son six months ago.

His parents had disowned William when he'd gotten pregnant four years ago with Nate. William was seventeen, and he'd gone to live with his alpha boyfriend, who'd promised he would take care of them. That situation had gone downhill almost immediately. Surprise, the man was a piece of shit, and William had held on living with him for four years before calling up Parker for help. Parker had gone to his rescue, extracting him and Nate and bringing them to his luxury condo. Of course, because Mom and Dad owned the condo, they weren't too happy to find that out. He'd had to vacate, and the three of them moved into a cramped one-bedroom apartment together.

Parker'd sent his parents e-mails, written letters, made calls, and left messages pleading their case and asking for them for assistance. The responses had always been sparse. It wasn't until the night before that they'd contacted him, asking him to meet them for dinner.

He brought his stylus to the screen and started to make adjustments to the illustration. The office was mostly silent, with soft clicking of keys as everyone around him worked on their projects. He hated this job. Not because of the ridiculous revision demands; those were expected with pretty much any client. He just hated what he was creating. Advertisements for junk food. He was capable of way more with his abilities, he knew that for certain. He wanted to be creating work that really moved people. Challenging, beautiful work. That was what he expected out of his artwork—and everyone else's, too, especially those who had real skill. And there were very few who he thought had real skill.

Lots of people could imitate styles, could paint by the numbers, could replicate light and render in a pleasing way on a canvas or piece of paper or computer screen. But very few could inject life and meaning and real passion into the work. Very few could make things that could touch people. And that was what Parker strived for. That's what he wanted to be doing with his life. Anything less was just... infuriating. It seriously pissed him off to think about it.

He finished up with his revisions to the project and dropped it into the network folder for review. He'd upped the saturation and changed the position of the soda cup in the composition to make it even more dominant. He had no clue if he'd achieved "big emotion." Chances were the people giving the okay on the work probably had no idea what they meant by it, either.

He opened up his e-mail. The inbox was stacked with revision requests for dozens of other projects he was working on. He sighed and clicked on the next one. Just fucking end me, now.

After work, Parker got stuck in traffic driving to the opposite end of the city to meet his parents at an Italian restaurant they’d chosen for dinner. Of course, they'd refused to meet closer to his apartment. "Oh, but Beverly Hills is so much nicer," Mom had said. "And we know the restaurants there." He knew she really meant—his new neighborhood was too poor. Too frightening for her to deal with. Ridiculous.

He pulled into the parking lot and a valet attendant opened his door for him.  He sighed, wishing he didn't have to pay for something so excessive, but at least it was on his parents’ dime. He forked over some cash and jogged up the steps to the restaurant. The host led him inside to where his parents were seated. Mom was staring into a glass of wine and Dad was looking off somewhere, probably dealing with an awkward silence. Parker couldn't remember the last time he saw them have a normal, friendly conversation. They only talked at each other, barking out opinions about this person or that thing, or about chores that needed to get done around the house.

When he approached the table, his parents glanced up at him. He paused for a moment, waiting to see if they'd rise to greet him, but Mom only smiled thinly at him. Dad nodded and uttered a gruff, "Parker."

"Hi, Mom, hi, Dad," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. His heart throbbed loudly in his chest. He was nervous, more than he'd expected. It wasn't the reunion he'd been hoping for, and he sensed bad news coming.

"Traffic coming here?" Dad asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry I'm late."

"I tried to convince your mother to change the reservation to Zangaro's. It would've been a little closer, at least."

Huh. A concession. Maybe that was a good sign?

"Zangaro's has horrid service," Mom said. "And the last time we went, the valet scratched the car. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

"No, of course I remember," Dad said, irritated.

Parker glanced through the menu, not feeling very hungry. He just wanted to get to the point. What had they called him here for? The waiter came and the three of them made their orders, and after he'd gone, a silenced descended on the table, like everyone was trying to figure out what to say.

"How's work?" Mom asked. "I hope you're doing your best. You know your father had to call in a favor with Mr. Lansing to get you that job."

"Work's fine, Mom," Parker said. "It's busy. Lot's to do."

She and Dad exchanged a glance. "Good. So, you have a secure position there?"

"It seems that way," he said. It was just like them to ask about work and not about his art. It'd been that way for nearly his entire life. In fact, if his conviction to become an artist had been any weaker, his parents would've probably convinced him to give it up when he was just a kid. They'd tried multiple times to get him to do something more 'practical', but he'd always known he wanted to do art. "They've got my team working on a big marketing campaign for Bingo Soda. Looks like there's going to be more projects with them."

"Fabulous," she said.

A moment of silence, again. Weren't they going to ask about William? Or about their grandson? Didn't they care to know how they were doing? He waited until it became too irritating to bear.

"William and Nate are doing well," he said. "We're talking about using some of my funds to put Nate in preschool. He's a great kid. You'd love him."

His parents exchanged another glance. "No, Parker, we can't allow that," Dad said.

"What?"

"We haven't forgiven William for what he did," said Mom. "Having a child with an alpha who's not his mate. It's a disgrace to the family, you know that."

Parker felt a flush of anger and fought to quell it. "He's your son. He made some poor decisions, but he's grown a lot. And he's raising Nate—your grandson—the best he can. He's not a disgrace, Mom. Not any more than I am."

"No, you're not," Dad said. "But we just cannot approve of you sacrificing your time and your resources for your brother. More importantly, nor can we approve of you using the family resources for that purpose. We've cut your brother off for a reason, Parker. You can't just support him using your family funds."

"And what? Just leave him and my nephew to fend for themselves? You've already reduced my funds as it is."

"That's what we wanted to speak to you about, Parker," said Dad. "We can't approve of you using our money any further. If you're going to continue assisting William, we will have to cut off the remainder of your funds.”

He blinked in disbelief. "The three of us are living in a one-bedroom apartment," he said. "I've already reduced the expenses as much as possible to avoid dipping into the trust. You aren't seriously saying you're going to cut me off. I'm helping my brother."

"That's exactly what we're saying," said Dad. "Anyway, you have a good job. You can support yourself, and we'll still be taking care of the tuition. And once your brother goes off on his own, you can have access to the family money again."

"And you can start thinking about finding yourself a mate," Mom started.

"Fuck that!" Parker said, unable to keep his voice from raising. There was a murmur as eyes turned towards their table. His parents looked horrified.

"Parker!"

"Settle down," Dad said. "The food is here."

The waiter maneuvered over to their table, and the three of them sat in silence as he placed the plates of pasta in front of them. Parker was seething. He felt ill. He hadn't had time to eat a bite since breakfast, but his anger wiped away the hunger. It wasn't about the money. He knew Mom and Dad had always been practically insane, but just couldn't believe that they were this uncaring. Were their principles worth that much to them that they'd be willing to cut off both of their sons?

"Anyway," Mom said, speaking in fast, hushed tones, trying to maneuver the conversation to a lighter ground. "It’s about time you found yourself someone. You'll be graduating soon, and you'll want to start a family of your own.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Parker said. "This is insanity. You both are crazy, you know that?"

They stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Mom gingerly placed her napkin into her lap and pierced one of the stuffed ravioli with her fork, taking a dainty bite from it.

"Mm," she said. "Delicious. I'm glad we came here and not Zangaro's. Their ravioli is horrid."

Parker pushed away from the table, his chair groaning loudly across the floor. "You can forget about me," he said. "If this is how we treat our family, I don't want any part of it anymore."

"Parker," Dad said, sternly, like he was talking to a child. "Sit down. Eat your food."

"Go to hell," Parker growled. He turned heel and marched out of the restaurant, leaving his parents sitting stunned. He didn't bother to look back at them. They might've been calling to him to come back, Mom might've been shouting, he didn't know. He wasn't listening. He couldn't hear anything over the angry pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. The valet arrived with his car, and Parker got inside, slamming the door. He pulled out of the parking lot, onto the street and then onto the highway, putting enough miles in between him and his parents so that he could finally breathe again.

Screw them.

He was going to be there for his brother and his nephew. He wasn't going to let them treat them this way. The money didn't matter. He could care less about his inheritance. He could support them on his own—and he would.

Parker pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex and spent a few minutes in the car, breathing slowly, trying to cool down. He'd always had a bit of a hot temper and had been working on getting it under control. It was difficult for him to keep whatever was on his mind to himself. If he was pissed, he had no qualms about telling it like it was. He'd made his fair share of enemies that way, but he really didn't give a damn. He had William and Nate, and he had his art. He didn't need anyone or anything else.

He'd never been in a proper relationship, either. Not once. It wasn't like he didn't find omegas and betas attractive, he definitely did, it was just that his personality had always prevented him from getting close to anyone. Sure, he'd hooked up with a few people before, but real relationships were out of the question. People were intimidated by him, and he wasn't concerned enough about it to try and make people feel comfortable. So he'd just gotten used to being single, and as the years went by he realized that his standards were just getting higher and higher anyway. Just being good looking wasn't enough. He couldn't find himself attracted to someone who wasn’t  motivated, skilled and talented. Parker knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn't really care. He had limited time in this world, and he wasn't going to waste it on just anyone. He saw no problem with that.

There were few people he could think of that he even found attractive. There was really only one, but that guy seemed to dislike him, anyway. And also, he was way too insecure. Parker didn't like that. In fact, the more he thought about that guy, the more he realized how annoying he was.

He could hear William scolding him. "You're never gonna get laid if you have these ridiculous standards."

Parker took a deep breath. He felt calmer now. He'd have to give William the news. Without access to the family fund, money was about to become really tight. He'd do what he could to send Nate to preschool. He had to.

He got out of the car and headed through the complex. As he passed by the rows of front doors he caught vignettes of other lives: of televisions blaring in living rooms, of a couple having a shouting match, of babies crying and the smell of dinners on the stove. A cacophony of life that he was still getting used to. The family condo had been up in the Hollywood Hills, private and secluded from the lives of neighbors.

He turned a corner into the hallway leading to his apartment and collided shoulders with a man hurrying by. The guy was lugging several bags with him, and they dropped onto the floor as he stumbled backwards from the impact.

"Sorry," Parker said, stooping over to the collect the fallen bags. He realized they weren't just normal bags—they were portfolio cases, much like the ones he used to transport his own artwork.

"Sorry," the guy mumbled. Parker turned to give the cases to him and froze when he saw who it was.

Kell Eden stared back at him, equally stunned. The cases slipped from Kell's hand and dropped back onto the ground.

"What are you doing here?" both of them said in unison. Kell stared at him for a moment before quickly averting his gaze. Parker frowned. He didn't let it show, but he was flustered. Why was Kell Eden at his apartment? The one guy in school with real talent. The only guy he was interested in. It was like he'd summoned him here.

Christ, why the hell was Kell so shy? The guy was looking around like he was expecting a camera crew to pop out and tell him he was being pranked. It was frustrating, but at the same time, Parker found it strangely... cute? He was really attractive, with soft hazel eyes and a bright, curious face. But it was Kell's art that really attracted Parker. Despite his mild-mannered exterior, Parker could see the passion burning inside him through his artwork. Kell's work spoke more about his personality, his emotions, his soul than any words could. Except for his latest project. That one really was garbage, compared to his other work.

"I live here," Kell muttered.

Parker blinked. "I've never seen you around here before."

"I just moved in yesterday," replied Kell, still looking like he was expecting to be told he was being pranked. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"I live here, too," Parker replied flatly. Kell stared at him, looking horrified.  "I guess we're neighbors," Parker said.

Kell quickly scooped up the portfolio cases from the ground. "Yeah, I guess so," he said. He didn't look well. "Uh, I should get going. Bye." He hurried past Parker and disappeared around the corner. Parker stood there, absorbing what'd just happened. What was his problem?

Neighbors.

Weird.

He opened the door to the apartment and was greeted by Nate, who came sprinting at him holding a toy spaceship. "Uncle Parker!" he squealed. "Vrroooooom. Pshaow pshaow!"

"Whoa," Parker said, allowing a smile to cross his lips. "Hey, kid. What're you playing?"

"This is another planet," Nate explained. "I'm finding aliens. Swishhhhh!" He arced the ship through the air and ran through the living room, hopping up onto the couch.

William peeked his head out from the kitchen. "Hey, Parker." His brother eyed him, looking to his expression for good or bad news. Then he smiled, sadly. He could see it in Parker's face. "It didn't go well."

Parker shook his head and sat down at the table. "No."

"I just made some food. Want some? Something tells me you didn't stick around to eat with Mom and Dad."

He chuckled. "Nope. I got the hell out of there as soon as they started talking their nonsense. I'm starving."

"Nate! Dinner."

The three of them sat around the table, quietly eating the roasted chicken breast and broccoli that William had made. Nate's spaceship sat next to his plate, and every so often he picked it up and flew it around.

"So, what happened?" William asked.

Parker sighed. He'd been going over in his mind how to break the news to William and had not been able to think of any easy way to say it. "Mom and Dad are cutting me off, too."

"Oh my god. Seriously?"

"Yep. They don't like that I'm helping you. They said, as soon as I stop I can have access to the trust again. So I told them to get f-u-c-k-e-d."

"Jesus, Parker. You shouldn't have done that... You've already done enough for us. Way more than I could ever expect. That's... that's your inheritance."

"That's our inheritance, and it means nothing if we can't share it. Anyway, if Mom and Dad are going to use family money to try and wedge us apart, then I want no part in it. I've got no need for it. My future hasn't changed."

William shook his head in disbelief. "I never thought they'd go this far just to punish me."

"You don't deserve this, William," Parker said. "Neither does Nate. We're family. I'm going to stick by you, no matter what happens. Okay?"

William smiled sadly. "Thanks, Parker."

"We'll get Nate into preschool."

"You've had enough responsibility," said William. "I'll start looking for work, right away."

"But Nate?"

"I'll find him a daycare. I'll cover that. I can't expect you to continue to pay for everything, now that's coming from your own pocket." He straightened. "We can stand on our own."

He nodded at William. "Okay. But if it gets to be too much..."

"No, Parker. I've gotta take care of this, now. I've gone for too long relying on your help. On others’ help. It's time I took full responsibility."

William had already dealt with so much, far more than he should have, and had already shown plenty of responsibility. But Parker knew better than to argue with his brother.

"Something weird happened earlier," Parker said.

"What?"

"Do you remember the guy I told you about? From my class?"

"The one you like?"

Against all effort, Parker felt his face flush hot. "I don't like him," he growled. "I just think he's a good artist."

"Okay," William said, smirking.

"I'm serious," Parker said.

William put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. You don't like him. Even though that one time you said that he was hot."

"I was drunk. That doesn't count."

"Parker, you're never gonna get laid if you can't just admit that you're attracted to someone."

He laughed. "Who said I cared about that? You're more concerned about me getting laid than I am."

His brother shrugged. "Hey, man. I just worry about you sometimes, that's all. It's not good to be so isolated."

"I'm not. I've got you two." He smiled a lopsided grin at Nate. "Right, kid?"

Nate was playing with his spaceship and wasn't paying attention to what was being said, but he nodded anyway. "Daddy, can I be excused?"

"Go wash up," William said to him, and the little boy slipped off his chair and toddled off to the bedroom that he shared with his father, making spaceship noises as he went.

"Anyway," said Parker. "That guy. I ran into him out in the hall. He lives here."

"No shit?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh?"

William cheesed at him. "Hey, man. It's the perfect opportunity."

Parker scowled at him. "I told you. I don't like him."