Unconditional.

I decided I'd help out at my Dad's exhibit the day after Felix's party. I was tired and tempted to spend the whole day in bed, but I knew I probably owed it to Seb to at least half his workload. Despite the early morning and the amount of work we had to do, I was in a pretty great mood. Felix's party had been pretty good, especially the part when Holly asked me to drive her home, and I'd be lying if I said that wasn't the reason for my high spirits. I'd thought the car journey would be awkward, but it hadn't. I felt like my relationship with Holly had strengthened considerably, just in the hour it had taken to drive her home, and I couldn't help but hope she felt the same.

I spent the day carrying things into the gallery from the rental van with Seb, while Dad ordered some staff members around, arranging the room for the exhibit. I was careful moving the paintings, knowing that with my luck I'd drop them in a puddle or ruin them somehow, and the whole exhibit would be ruined.

Seb was in similarly high spirits, but then again it wasn't often Seb let anyone see him even remotely upset. We were also dressed similarly, wearing baggy t shirts and tracksuit bottoms. Our suits for later on that night were lying safely across the passenger seat in the van. We'd be working all day and all night, and I knew I'd be regretting it the next day, but for now I was enjoying myself.

"My dad hasn't been too hard on you, has he?" I muttered as Seb and I left the gallery to get more stuff from the van.

"Nah," he said breezly, reaching into the van to pass me a particularly big canvas. "I mean, he looked like he was going to flip out when I dropped a box of paints the other day, but that was it. No damage done."

I sighed, shifting the weight of the painting awkwardly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this..."

"Shut up," he laughed, punching me in the shoulder. "You know I don't do much as it is. It's nice to see the outside of my flat every now and then."

"Under the watchful gaze of my angry father," I added grudgingly.

"Josh," he warned, and I rolled my eyes. "It's not a big deal. I can handle being hated by your parents. They've never liked me as it is. But now you bring it up, I have been wondering who actually broke your window. You know who it was, right?"

I shrugged, tired of being asked questions I couldn't answer. "I know that above everyone else you deserve to know, but..."

"Why can't you tell anyone?" he asked calmly, taking his own stack of canvases and leading me back inside. "Honestly, what harm can it do?"

We fell silent as we returned inside the gallery, leaning the paintings against the wall as instructed by my dad. We both came to a silent agreement that we would not talk about this in front of my father, and I was grateful for that. Plaques and nails were being drilled into the walls, preparing for the hanging of my dad's art. The tiled floor was covered in paint and sawdust, and tables had been pushed into the centre for all around access to the walls. Seeing all the mess and havoc, I realised we had our work cut out for us.

Dad turned to grin nervously at me, pausing his conversation with a worker as I set the canvas down. I smiled back, shooting him a reassuring thumbs up, and he turned away to resume his conversation. It hadn't occurred to me that my dad would be nervous. He was my dad; he wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything. But this was his biggest exhibit to date. All his best work had been brought in. Everything he'd worked for so far had led up to this day. I smiled again, pride for my father overwhelming me, followed by another wave of guilt as my thoughts drifted to the broken window. I shook my head dismissively. I refused to think about that today. Today was about my father, not my petty problems.

Seb and I strode back out of the gallery, relieved we were nearly done bringing the artwork inside. But we still had a lot of work to do if we wanted to open the exhibit on time. I wondered, a little arrogantly, how on earth they'd been planning to get this done on time without my help.

"Josh," said Seb as we reached into the van once more, "you're not in any trouble or anything, are you?"

"No," I growled, straightening up and pinching the bridge of my nose. "Can we please just not talk about it? We need to get this done."

"It'll get done," he said with a gentle smile. "Listen mate, I'm not going to tell anyone. I just want to know. You're my best friend. If you can't trust me, who can you trust?"

I sighed, turning to sit on the edge of the van and crossing my arms petulantly. "Fine."

Seb sat down slowly beside me, silent, waiting for me to explain. He took the opportunity to take a squashed pack of cigarettes from his pocket and light up. I sighed again.

"There's this guy," I said quietly, glancing around in paranoia. "His name's Luke. I got into a fight with him at the club and it's kind of... Spiralled, I guess." I shrugged. "I was warned he was dangerous, but I didn't listen."

"Why haven't you told anyone until now? Why can't your parents know? You could've called the police on that son of a-"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't want my parents to think I'm throwing another job away by getting into fights. It's how I lost my last job. Besides, I may or may not have smashed up his car as revenge."

"Oh," whistled Seb, crossing his arms and blowing smoke into the air. "Shit."

"Yeah," I agreed, and for a while we both fell silent.

I felt relief flood through me as Seb finished his cigarette. It was nice to tell someone the truth, even if it was only part of the truth. I felt a little lighter, part of my burden lifted but my promise to Holly still intact. I felt the corners of my lips lift in a small smile at the thought of her, and Seb raised an eyebrow.

"You okay, mate?"

"Yeah," I answered, standing up and helping Seb to his feet. That was one thing I wasn't going to reveal to him, at least until I knew where I stood with Holly. "Come on, let's get the rest of this stuff inside."

We spent the next half an hour shifting the rest of the artwork, and after a short lunch at McDonald's we helped hang the paintings up. It had been a while since I'd spent any proper time with my dad, and despite the blatant hostility he sent in waves towards Seb, it was okay.

This was the first time I was allowed to see Dad's most recent paintings. They were brightly coloured landscapes, abstract replicas of the little city we lived in. A lot of the paintings featured the view he had from the shed, painting in vivid colours. Pride washed over me at the sight of them. Just by looking at them I knew this exhibit was going to be a huge success. There was no way no one was going to love these paintings.

I was looking forward to seeing my friends tonight, even though I'd only be serving them drinks and snacks. I hadn't seen them in a few days, so I'd take what I could get.

After putting the paintings up and cleaning the floor, Seb and I were sent across the road to get food from the caterer. We came back heaving two bags each, and the tables were laid out neatly with red tablecloths and black napkins, ready for the food. Then, after a quick dinner, it was time to get changed. Seb and I struggled into our suits in the back of the van, with ten minutes left to spare before the gallery was due to open.

I tugged at the tight tie around my neck as we took our places at the entrance, and Dad beamed at the sight of me.

"Looking sharp," he commented, and I rolled my eyes. He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank you before the exhibit opens. For helping me make this happen. Both of you."

I beamed and stepped forward to pull him into a tight hug, my heart swelling. Maybe he didn't hate Seb as much as he led us to believe. Maybe a small part of him knew Seb would never do anything to hurt us. Maybe he knew it wasn't Seb that damaged our window. I didn't know, but either way I was grateful to him for forgiving Seb.

"Congratulations, Dad," I said, "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Josh," he said with a kind smile, before turning his attention to Seb. "Look Sebastian, I don't know why you would throw bricks at our window, but you should know, if you did do it, that you're forgiven. I'm grateful to you for helping me out here. To be honest I never believed you capable of such a thing."

"Erm, thank you, Mr Peyton," said Seb, shooting me a look.

"Now," said Dad, clapping his hands together, "let's have an exhibit, shall we?"

*****

"Thank you, sir," said Rachel with a grin as I offered her champagne from the tray I was holding.

"Having fun?" I asked with a grin, and she nodded.

"Your dad's talented," she observed, sipping her drink. "Congratulations. Um. On your dad."

I laughed. "Thanks."

"So, any news on you and your little crush?" she asked, leaning in to whisper.

I allowed a grin to smear across my lips. "Maybe. I might have seen her yesterday night and we might have bonded a little bit."

"He shoots, he scores," she giggled, and I rolled my eyes.

"It's not like that," I assured her. "Anyway, I have to, y'know, hand drinks around. I'll talk to you later."

The exhibit was going amazingly. The gallery was absolutely packed with formally dressed people chatting and drinking champagne. My dad was surrounded by admirers, a casual hand on my proud mother's waist. Ilona and Billie were socialising somewhere, and half our family had shown up too. A few paintings sat on easels at the back of the room, up for auction.

I milled around the room, passing drinks around and stopping to chat to people now and then. I said brief hellos to Leo and Tristan as well as Rachel, and they passed congratulations to me for my dad's success. There were magazine editors, local news reporters and countless other important people crowding the artwork, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

Once my tray was empty I headed for the back room to pour more drinks, just as Seb was walking out with a newly refilled tray. We grinned at each other in passing, and again I felt relieved. I didn't know how Dad knew Seb was innocent, but I was happy about it. Seb seemed relieved that my dad didn't hate him too, which made me feel heaps better. I didn't even leave room for the worry that Dad would question me about it later.

Billie caught me as I was leaving the back room with another full tray. She took a glass from it and followed me around the room, pointing out locally famous faces. It was quite exciting, being in the same room as all these important people, made even more exciting by the fact that my father was rapidly becoming one of them. I mean, he'd done a few shows here and there, but none were anywhere near as big as this one.

"What a turnout," Billie observed, a smile matching mine on her face.

"I know," I agreed, "Dad's being mobbed!"

"He's enjoying it, I'm sure," she laughed, sipping her drink as I offered my tray to random people. "Listen, are you busy tomorrow night?"

"Actually I am-" I started, but she cut me off.

"No? Good. Zack and I are going out and Flynn needs a babysitter. Say yes?"

"I can't," I declined, nodding at some bearded dude as he thanked me for his drink. "I'm going out with a friend."

"Well, reschedule!" she snapped impatiently. "How often do you spend time with Flynn? He misses you, and I haven't been out with Zack in I don't know how long. Please, Josh? I know you have plans for every waking moment what with all your millions of friends and all, but spare a thought for your poor-"

"All right!" I snarled, punching her lightly on the shoulder with my free hand. "I'll babysit, are you happy? Now go away, I have drinks to serve."

"Thanks baby brother," she sang, ruffling my hair, and she skipped away.

I rolled my eyes and watched her go, annoyed. I'd finally managed to make plans with Holly outside of work and now I had to cancel them. Of course, I wasn't about to admit that to Billie. She wouldn't stop pestering me until she sapped every detail of my relationship with Holly from me, not that there was much to tell. It wasn't even a date, much to my silent disappointment.

A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn around, my eyes widening in surprise as they fell on Brewer. I had no idea he'd be here, but then again we didn't really talk much about work, let alone his personal plans. He was hardly ever at the club. I should've guessed, though; he was the owner of the most expensive club in town. Of course he'd want fancy new art hanging on his expensive wallpaper.

He was dressed in an expensive purple suit, which somehow he managed to pull off. I smiled and held out my hand for him to shake, which he did, and he helped himself to a drink from my tray.

"Josh," he said cheerfully, "how are you?"

"I'm okay," I replied with a grin. "How're you?"

"Good, everything's grand," he answered, clapping me on the back and almost making me drop my tray. A few drops of champagne spilled from the glasses, but by some miracle I managed to keep the tray in my hand. "I'm thinking about bidding for one of the paintings to hang in the club. Art's kind of a weakness of mine. I have a loft filled with it, it's very unhealthy. How are you finding working at the club?"

"It's good," I told him, nodding politely. "Everyone seems nice. Felix invited me to his birthday party yesterday, actually."

"Yes, I'm afraid I was too busy to go," he said. "Holly went in my place though, and thank you for driving her home, by the way."

"It was nothing," I assured him. "Listen, I need to get back to work. I'll, um, see you Wednesday?"

"If I'm around," he agreed, striding away and waving over his shoulder.

I thought back to the previous night, when I dropped Holly off after agreeing on plans for Tuesday, and I wondered how much she'd told her father. I wasn't sure if I was comfortable with him knowing I was spending time with his daughter. I mean, he was my boss. Would it be as awkward for him as it would be for me?

When my tray emptied again I allowed myself a quick piss break, hurrying for the gallery toilets in a rush to get back to work. I took a quick leak before moving across to the sink to wash my hands, just as two men walked in, deep in conversation, paying no attention to the young man at the sink. I didn't pay attention to them either at first, until they mentioned a name I was familiar with.

"...Some guy trashed Luke's car," one of the men was saying, and I froze. "I paid for repairs, naturally, but he refused to tell me who it was. He said he was handling it."

The other guy chuckled, facing his back to me as he stepped towards the urinal. "That's never a good thing."

"No one messes with my son," said the first guy, and my eyes widened. "If he gets the culprit, they'll learn that. They'll get what's coming to them."

"Do you have any idea who it could be?"

Luke's dad shook his head. "He was on the phone when he visited my place yesterday and I overheard some of the conversation. All I know is that the guy's name is Josh."

The tap squeaked loudly as I stopped the water flow, catching sight of myself in the mirror above the sink. My face was white as a sheet. The guys glanced over at me, and I tried to gather my bearings. But my heart was slamming against my chest, and it was almost impossible not to look guilty. Luke's dad, who looked a lot like his son now I could see him properly, raised an eyebrow.

"You all right, mate?" he growled, and I nodded nervously.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, slipping slightly on the damp floor as I backed towards the door. "I - Yeah. Thanks."

With that I staggered out of the bathroom as fast as my legs would carry me, desperate to put as much distance between those men and myself as I could. I bolted into the back room and leaned over the counter where I'd left my tray, panting heavily and trying my best not to throw up all over the polished surface.

Those cruel, dark eyes had bored a hole through my head. I couldn't get the image of that evil looking man out of my mind. He looked like he could shoot me right there and then and not feel bad for a second. I could immediately see where Luke had gotten his charming personality from.

Had Luke sent his father here to shake me up? He already knew my name and address; how hard could it have been for him to look up my dad's exhibit and plant people there to scare me? Had his father known who I was all along, and indirectly threatened me the moment he got me alone? Or was I just being paranoid? Well, if this had been Luke's plan, it was working. I was officially freaked out.

Should I have listened to Holly? Could Luke really be that dangerous? What was he planning to do to me? Fear surged through me at the thought of him hurting my family. He knew who they were, he'd made sure I'd known that.

I tried to calm myself, assuring myself this was all based on assumption. I didn't know for sure that he was going to try anything. I barely knew the guy. All I knew was his name and that he used to abuse Holly in their relationship, and already I was going to let myself get scared of him,just based on that? No. I couldn't let him get into my head, no matter how dangerous Holly insisted he was. She could be wrong about him. I scowled, silently reminding myself that this night was about my dad, not my stupid problems. I was supposed to be celebrating, not hiding.

But it didn't stop me jumping a mile as the door swung open and Seb strolled in, whistling. My hands flew up in surprise, and my tray fell to the floor with a clatter. Seb stopped in his tracks and grinned at me, amused by my clumsiness.

"You okay, mate?" he chuckled, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."