purpose or lack thereof

He strolled down the streets, brushing his hands through his hair. Part of him just wanted to run away, turn around and vanish from the earth. Afonka was just annoyed. Not just with the world, but suddenly he disliked everyone.

But Merlin, it was mostly Tessa. Everything she'd said seemed to have only served to further annoy him, and now that he'd had time to think about, it only infuriated him.

His fingers clenching into fists, he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It didn't work.

Paloma was thankful for Azorat existing, or else she would have never made it to Russia. She'd grabbed all her clothes, books, prized possessions, everything she owned and put it into a big suitcase. Of course, she'd charmed the bag to make it bigger on the inside. It would've been too much trouble carrying three or four of those suitcases.

Saying goodbye to Robert had been the worst part, because she knew he would be the next, just like she was after Alice was out. When she saw his eyes watering, shaking his head, begging her to stay, she'd had to control herself. She couldn't break down, not in front of him.

"It's not my choice, Robbie," she'd whispered, holding his face in-between her hands. He reminded her so much of herself, back in first year. That same look in her eyes when her sister left. But, at that time, she just didn't understand. And, now, she knew he didn't either. Couldn't her parents see that patterns would always repeat themselves? Give a few years, and it would be Robert going out that door. Or, rather, fireplace.

But they were not stupid, and she feared what they would do to him to prevent him from going the same way. At that moment, she'd wished she could take it all back. But no, unlike Alice, it had not been her choice.

"I love you, I'll always love you," she'd told him, "We'll see each other next year, I won't abandon you. Plus, you can always visit me, like we did every summer with Ali. I'll be with her." With a last kiss on his cheek, she'd entered the fireplace.

From Azorat, she'd had to find a way to contact her sister. She wasn't home, but doing a photo shoot with some male models in the muggle part of St. Petersburg.

As she wandered the streets, making her way to the place where they'd decided to meet, she was glad she hadn't given her the news yet. Some time alone, some time to think, that was all she needed. Out of her family's sight, she couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears clouded her vision as she dodged each and every person in her way.

Frowning, he brought a clenched hand up to his face. Blinking up at it for a moment, he slowly unclenched it, brushing it through his hair with a sigh. He just had to think about other things. That was it. Focus on something that wasn't Tessa Grey.

He could think of - what could he think of? His frown only deepening, he glanced around at the street and the buildings, looking for something that could take his mind off of the girl.

But instead, his gaze was drawn to a familiar looking blonde. Tilting his head, he watched her walk towards him for a moment. And then recognition lit up his brown eyes, the first smile in much too long spreading across his face.

Stepping towards her, the smile began to fade the closer he got, able to better discern her facial expression. It wasn't difficult to tell that she was far from happy.

"Pally?" he murmured, pausing in front of her. "Are - What's wrong?"

Paloma blinked the first few tears out of her eyes, but after a while they were too many, so she let them fall. They were more than she'd expected - soon, her cheeks were completely wet and her nose runny. She briefly wondered what the people passing by would be thinking of her, but as soon as it came, the thought was gone.

For once, she didn't care.

As soon as she saw a bench, in a less crowded area, near the park, she moved towards it. She couldn't bear walking anymore, especially not while carrying luggage.

Leaving the aqua-colored polka-dotted bag on the floor, she seated herself and hid her face behind her hands. She didn't know what to feel.

Her head snapped up at the sound of a familiar voice, and her eyes fell on Afonka. "Af-fonka? W-What are y- I-," her voice faltered and a small sob escaped. Why did she always insist on talking while crying?

Just watching her cry broke his heart.

She just looked so sad and lonely, sitting here on a park bench. And that made his stomach churn. Why was she here, crying alone? Didn't someone care? Her parents - her family - didn't seem to be doing a good enough job.

Remembering their past conversations and how he'd found her crying in that cave at Durmstrang all those months ago, it began to slowly dawn on him that maybe no one did. Or maybe they just didn't care enough.

"Shh," he murmured, sitting down next to her. Wrapping Paloma in his arms, a hand ran in circles across her back. For a moment, he wondered what they looked like, the punk boy consoling the blonde. But it didn't really matter, did it? All that really mattered right now was that she was alright.

"It'll be okay," Afonka murmured, beginning to rock her. "Just cry it all out."

It dawned on her that it wasn't the first time he'd seen her cry, and that only made her feel more ashamed of herself. Weak, that was what she was. It wasn't the first time a student had been kicked out of home, nor would it ever be the last.

Knowing that didn't make things any easier.

She tried wiping away her tears, but every time she tried, more came to replace them. When he wrapped her in his arms, she didn't protest and, for a while, they just stayed there.

She knew she was probably ruining Afonka's shirt, but just that once, she felt like she needed this. She needed someone.

After a few minutes, she started calming down. Her breaths were longer, the tears had stopped falling, though the occasional sobs still got her. She didn't even want to know what she looked like.

Paloma pulled away from him and, snuffling, ran a hand over her, surely red, face. Biting her lips, she just sat there for a minute, gaze fixed on the ground, too tired to say anything.

"Hey," she croaked after a while, a small smile on her face that didn't seem to reach her eyes.

He'd never liked tears. They were messy and it was just how sad and lost and heartbroken (though people could cry from happiness, he'd never once seen it) people looked like when they did that made Afonka dislike them.

So he wanted to make them go away. He was going to make them go away. Even if he had to sit here with Paloma all day, he was going to make her smile, maybe even a laugh if he was lucky. He'd do it for anyone, and because she was his friend, he'd try even harder.

And so he stayed, allowing her to use his shoulder to cry on. A small smile flitting across his face as she began to slowly calm down, he finally let her go, his arms falling to his sides but his eyes never leaving her.

"Hey," he replied softly. After a moment of chewing on his bottom lip, he asked, "What's wrong? I mean,you don't have to tell me..." Afonka trailed off, shaking his head. "But if you do, I'm here."

Her brown eyes never met his, they just looked at the grass and tried to keep her mind off what had happened. She knew that if she thought about it more, the tears would, undoubtedly, come again.

Paloma didn't want to feel like a crybaby in front of him.

So she just shrugged, attempting to find the best words to tell her friend without sobs joining them once more. "No, it's okay," she assured him, a small chuckle that died before it came out, escaping as a sigh, "I just - I'm gonna end up crying if I explain -"

"But what the hell, right?" It had been a while since she swore. "Better now that I'm already a mess than later."

"I got into a f-fight - with my mum," she started, tears already welling up in her eyes as she relived everything. The words, the demands, the insults, the slap. She thought it wouldn't, but they hurt just as much - if not more - the second time. Mostly because she knew what would happen afterward. "Fuck," she rubbed her eyes and shrugged a shoulder, "Anyway, long story short, they kicked me out." At the last words, her voice faltered, but she sniffled and gulped down the sobs.

She finally looked up at him and frowned, "You look. . . different."

He continued to watch her, chewing on his bottom lip. He didn't mind silence, not usually. But now it was worrying him, making him overthink everything he'd said. Maybe she didn't want to tell him. He couldn't blame her. Though they were friends, they weren't exceedingly close.

He knew what it was like to have problems so large that he couldn't tell some of his own friends.

"It doesn't seem okay," he murmured, his lips pulling into a small frown. He reached over to her, patting her shoulder. "Like I said, it's fine if you don't want to." As she continued, he let his arm fall to his side, tilting his head at her.

His face clouding with concern and worry, he reached towards her, wrapping her in his arms again. "I'm so sorry." Getting kicked out....He could hardly wrap his head around the idea. His parents were great. He'd never had to worry about it. "They'll change their minds?" he murmured hopefully into her ear. "Once they cool down and think it over? I mean, they have to. You're their kid."

A flash of anger at the Poots' parents, he frowned. He wanted to go over there and knock some sense into them. But he knew that wouldn't do any good, not in the long run. "You can live with me, if you want. I can ask my parents."

Blinking at the sudden topic change, he brought a hand up to brush through his hair. "Oh, yeah. I thought it was time for a change."

Talking to someone about what had happened was comforting, and yet, at the same time, it also made her feel a thousand times worse. As soon as the words came out, it made everything feel real.

She had been kicked out by her own parents.

"Sorry? It's not your fault," she murmured, head shaking briefly, "It's mine, really. I said some horrible things, and all because I didn't want to study as much as they wanted me to - what the hell did I do?" She ran a hand through her hair and shut her eyes. She knew what they wanted was too much, she was tired of it, she was tired of them - every word she'd said, she'd meant it. She had stood up to her parents, finally - but at what cost? Everyone had demanding parents, was it worth getting kicked out?

She shrugged, "Yeah. . . maybe. . ." Though, honestly, she doubted it. Her mother rarely did things without thinking first. Kicking her out was, most likely, not a mistake in their eyes.

A small smile crept up her face and she shook her head, "I'm going to stay with my older sister, in the UK. Thank you for offering, though." It felt good to know someone cared enough about her to offer her their place to stay. "I'm just waiting for her to get back from a photoshoot," she explained, and chuckled humorlessly, "Haven't even told her what happened yet."

"Why?" she couldn't help but ask, her mind too messed up to think that maybe for no reason at all, or maybe for too many reasons that he just couldn't say.

"But no matter what you said, they shouldn't have done what they did." Afonka shook his head, another spurt of anger towards her parents flaring up. How could they have done this? All they had to do was see how much they were hurting their own daughter to realize that this had been a terrible idea. "Pally," he murmured, his grip on her tightening. "You already do amazing in school. What more do they want?" She was one of the smartest people he knew. Didn't that count for anything?

He felt like having a very long talk with her parents.

Afonka chewed on his bottom lip, noting her response. "Well, it never hurts to be positive, right?" Because there was always that chance. Her parents had to realize the error of their ways. They just had to.

"Well, that's good," he said with a smile. "I always wished I had an older sibling." He loved Deina to death, but she was seven. He could hardly talk to her about the problems he didn't want to talk about with his parents. "You're welcome," Afonka said simply. He'd do the same for anyone. It was only fair. He had space at his house and she'd needed it. "I'll stay with you until she comes, if you want," he offered.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I just - I wanted people to stop thinking of me as someone they can just walk all over. And looking like this makes people think that I'm scary. I don't want to be, but it's better than being bullied."

She was finding excuses for them, Paloma realized after a while, just like she used to do when she was smaller. Her parents were the smartest people she'd met, at the time, if they had done something she thought was bad, she was the only one wrong. Her parents would always know what they were doing.

She listened to his words and frown appeared on her forehead. What more did they want? Perfection was something she'd come to wish for everyday, but that could never be achieved. Trying, though. . . trying couldn't hurt, could it? She gave her head the smallest shake, of course it could. It had hurt her all these years.

It seemed to her she was repeating thoughts. Every time she realized she couldn't handle all that pressure, something bad happened. And whenever something bad happened, it was like her brain couldn't process. She had to go back and do what her parents wanted her to do: try again, work harder.

Not this time. This time, there was no going back. Going back would mean having to handle everything all over again, and she just thought she couldn't anymore.

This time, it was permanent.

"Would it really be the best thing, though?" the Uchitel voiced, wanting someone else's opinion for a change. "I mean, you said it yourself, what else do they want from me? But they would want something, alright, and I'm just scared of what that something could be." Because they were definitely not going to forgive that easily. Not without consequences.

She smiled on the subject of siblings - she was lucky she had two great ones. "Yeah, Alice is amazing. She's all carefree and fun, pretty much a real kid, except she's, well, twenty," she said with a small chuckle, and added, "I have a younger brother too." Speaking of Robert made her heart ache. She just wished she knew how he was, if they were doing anything to him. "Thanks," she muttered, bringing up her younger sibling having made her more worried than she'd been before, "I'm sure she won't be long, when I called, she said she was finishing up and would meet me here."

Paloma nodded, it made sense. She had never been one to let other people - besides her family - walk all over her, but she felt most just thought of her as completely harmless and defenseless. "Is it you, though?" she asked him, "I'm not saying you should let people bully you, but you can stand up for yourself without having to be someone you're not."

"I don't see what else they could want," he said softly, frowning down at the bench between them. Was he missing something? Because from where he was, he didn't see what else they could want from Paloma. She was already smart, nice, kind and caring. "I don't know, maybe they want you to be better? But I can't see how you can be better when you're already one of the best."

His frown only deepened. Their expectations for her were much too high. It was a miracle that she'd been able to last as long as she had. Paloma wasn't just talented, she was also strong.

And he envied her for it.

"That's how I always wanted to be when I grew up," he murmured wistfully, a small smile flitting across his face. "Be responsible and all, but also be able to act like I'm still young." But with the mafia practically breathing down his neck, he didn't think he'd ever be able to do that. "I have a younger sister, Deina."

He nodded his head. "You're welcome." Letting go of her and sitting beside her, sure that she was going to cry again, he swung his legs. "Well, that's good, then. You'll be able to see her soon."

Suddenly finding it difficult to meet her gaze, he stared down at his hands instead. "Well - not really. I mean, I'm the farthest thing from scary." He let out a shaky laugh. "But all I'm really doing is the changing the way I look. I - I think I'm the same person inside."

Paloma shrugged, not arguing. She didn't know what else to do either. "I'm just. . . lost, you know," she muttered, "I have no idea where to go from here. I wanted freedom and I got it - what do I do now? I can't go back."

"You still can," she voiced, and the thought didn't seem to strange to her. It definitely looked like someone Afonka could be. "How old is she?" she asked.

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. Alice had always been more than a big sister - she was almost like a best friend. Her living in London made it harder to see her all the time, but she'd looked forward to spending a week or two with her every summer.

Now, it could be every summer. And every winter. And every break she had.

Paloma stared at him for a while, biting her lower lip like she had made a habit of doing. Just. . . he seemed so different. Not just in appearance. Something about him had changed, and she wished she could figure out what. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I know," he nodded, reaching over to pat her arm. "I do, I really do know what it's like to feel lost." For a moment, he frowned, pulling his legs up onto the park bench. "You move forward," Afonka said softly, glancing sideways at her. "You try and forget. Just - don't think about them. That's what I'd do."

What would he do in her place? His parents would never - but then, hadn't she thought that once? Wouldn't she have? And they'd kicked her out. Yes, he supposed he would just try to move on.

"I guess so," he said, though he lacked any enthusiasm. "We'll see, won't we?" He smiled softly at the thought of Deina. "She's seven. She can't wait to go to Durmstrang." Afonka let out a little laugh, shaking his head.

He remembered when he'd been like her. Merlin, that felt like a whole lifetime ago. Sighing, he stared in front of him, watching people parade past, all lost in their own thoughts, worlds and problems.

What he'd do just to get rid of his. There had to be someone out there who's problems weren't as bad, didn't there?

Glancing back at Paloma, he nodded once. "Just ask and I'll answer."

"You do?" Paloma asked, before she could actually think about the question properly. Of course he did. Everyone had felt lost at one time or another - it wasn't something new to most people. Merlin, she had felt lost plenty of times before. Then again, those times weren't nearly as serious as this was. Then, they were just little worries: she didn't know what to do, what to be, who to follow. Now, a decision had been made for her, but that didn't make anything less troubling. Quite the contrary.

Move forward. She supposed that was really the best she could do, the only option, really. Though it was easier said than done. She'd always seemed to have a bit of trouble when it came to putting things past her and moving on.

When Paloma saw the smile on his face when talking about his sister, she couldn't help but to smile as well. That sort of smile she found was actually rare, the contagious one. It looked as if he cared a great deal about his sister. She hadn't even known he had one. Her smile turned into a small frown as she realized she actually didn't know much about him at all. They had talked, yes, and she considered him a good friend, but most of the times they had done so, she'd been ranting about her family. What did she know about him? "Tell me about her. Or your family, or you," she asked softly, and added quickly, "If you don't want to, it's fine. I just feel like I'm being self-centered after I talk about my stupid problems too much. Other people have it much worse. Plus, hearing about others' lives makes it easier to forget, it distracts me."

It was obvious to her that he had changed for a reason. Someone, or something, had pushed him around enough for him to think this was the necessary step to take. "Who bullied you?" she inquired, quietly, "Or if they didn't bully you, who did something to you that made you feel you had to be scary?"

He nodded slowly. What did he have to hide? It was true, wasn't it? He'd been lost. Sometimes, he was sure that he still was. Being lost wasn't something he was ashamed of. It was something he had to get used to.

"Sometimes I think I still am," he admitted, frowning slightly. "I just - this whole year's been weird." Hugging his knees, he sighed softly. "I - I broke up with Tessa. I thought it was the right thing to do - I still do - but sometimes..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Your problems aren't stupid." Afonka shook his head. Hers were every bit as important as his were. She had a right to talk about them, just as much as anyone else did.

She wanted him to talk about himself? But there wasn't all that much to talk about. He was just - him. So he concentrated on his family. "Well, the Alkaev family really isn't all that." He shrugged a shoulder. "We're pureblood and all, but we're the farthest thing from rich. My parents have always told me that money's not the most important thing in the world; the people who you surround yourself with are." Afonka grinned slightly.

"My parents are great. They really are. We live in this little town on Northern Russia - Reznov - and my dad owns a store there. My mother's a writer for this Transfiguration magazine."

He let go of his legs, allowing them to swing freely again. Just thinking about his family made him feel happier. But at the same time, there was that twinge of guilt, knowing that Paloma's had kicked her out.

"You remember Feliks? It was mostly him. There were others, but they've mostly graduated by now. Either that, or they've finally decided to leave me alone." It was what he'd wanted, they left him alone, but there were still moments when he was scared that they'd figure out his plan and go right back to bullying him.