Large families are envied and little Enzo didn't exactly understand why for a long, long time. He grew up with parents who were happily married and more than eager to procreate, giving him an even five siblings -- three sisters and two brothers. He fell right in the middle at child number three and was permanently blessed with middle child syndrome. Through childhood, Lorenzo -- affectionately nicknamed Enzo -- learned valuable lessons like the importance of hard work, the most effective strategies for negotiation, how to shift effortlessly between independence and generousity. It's safe to say that while his clothes were rarely new and his glasses were often held together by scotch tape, Enzo never lacked for love or affection, even if both emotions were sometimes delivered with strict words and strong hands.

Academics were harder for Enzo, surprising most people since his glasses perched proudly on his nose like a badge of honor, but he made it through high school without being the victim of too much bullying and without having his ego inflated too much. It was, honestly, an absolutely ordinary experience. Enzo shuffled into adulthood without a second thought of tossing all those lessons his mother, older sister, and aunts worked so hard to each him. Discipline aside, he focused on this newfound freedom that allowed him to literally do, say, and be whatever he wanted. Soon, though, he realized why he and his siblings were often forced to share clothes and toys. The real world was expensive. He quickly applied for and was awarded financial aid to attend NYU, where he majored in art, and picked up several odd jobs to allow him to travel.

Soon the things that were outlawed in his parents home -- drinking in excess, drugs of any sort, and women with loose morals -- were Enzo's primary focus and his favorite guilty pleasures. He spoiled himself with them, gaining what he'd later call valuable lessons along the way. By the time he graduated from NYU, Enzo was between a rock and a hard place. His lifestyle of partying until his memory was as black as the night sky was not welcome around his family and the habit had driven a serious wedge there. The choice was simple and it was his, his alone, and his father had made that clear to him several times over his time in college. Something about waking up with a bleeding nose and what seemed to be an intense stomach flu was the final straw. Enzo made the decision to be a family man again.

He relocated from Manhattan, where he had been living in a studio with two roommates, back to Astoria where he grew up and began to put himself back together. At the age of twenty-four, though, it didn't take him long to bounce back and get into the swing of things. His family, true to absolute form, did not miss a beat and took him back as though he had never been missing from their lives. Enzo returned to the grounded, sensible, calculated, genuine man that his mother had raised. He made his uncle proud by apprenticing at The Red Parlour and eventually taking a position as artist there. The third born and the last to leave, Enzo moved out of his mother and father's house two years ago when he was weeks shy of being twenty-six. Two years later, Enzo doesn't regret any of his decisions. Not even the bad ones.