Post by Ayumi Elric on Nov 17, 2010 0:08:47 GMT -4
FIRST CHAPTER, YO. Homophobes, beware 
November 18
6:35 pm
“We're fucked,” Nicky mumbled, kicking the glass doors of the small convenience store. The doors slammed shut and the attached wind chimes mocked him wildly as he stomped down the street. He wasn't that upset; he was used to rejection. It was insane to even expect a job at this point. He stunk so hard God could smell him, his thin clothes had too many holes in them and his oily black hair desperately begged to be cut. But as hard as he tried to hide it, stress attacked his chest, agonizing his every thought. The horrible reality of their situation was only just starting to dawn to him.
They weren't going to make it at this rate.
Skylar looked up at him from the sidewalk. His mouth twitched downward and he glanced at the half-empty cup of spare change in his hand. His disappointment was obvious.
“We're fucked,” Nicky repeated, this time loud enough for Skylar to hear. He sank wearily to the curb beside Skylar and let the perpetually hopeful smile on his face reappear. Ruffling Skylar's long sandy hair, he looked out into the crowds, warmth seeping into his blue eyes.
A few coins dropped from the never ending mass of legs in front of them, clinking on the ground. Nicky nodded and muttered a word of gratitude to no one in particular as he scooped up the change. He looked up at the crowd but most refused to meet his gaze.
That's what he hated the most, he loathed being invisible. At home, he was practically famous, but on the streets he seemed to have disappeared in their eyes. He hated each and every person who ignored him as they passed by, stepping over their meager belongings like they were nothing but shit. But he hated the few who would actually give him food or money even more. The last thing he wanted was their pity.
His plastic smile faltered. Tugging his hood further down his face, he drew his scraped knees up to his chest, wrapping his lanky arms around them. He didn't want to cry, especially not in public. But nobody would care in a city of strangers.
"I want to go home," he moaned to himself.
Skylar's heart skipped a beat. His eyes burned with the all-too-familiar feeling of fresh tears. "Nicky, don't. Please. Not now.”
Nicky ignored him. "Y'know, it's not like I have a home to go back to. But you do, Skylar. You shouldn't have come with me..." He inhaled sharply, burying his face into his dirty sleeve. "I-I didn't want this."
Skylar swiped away an escaped tear and scrubbed at his eyes feverishly. "C'mon Nicky. Don't talk like that. I wanted to be here. With you. You know I do." He frowned as Nicky shook his head. He sighed and glanced at the sky with amber eyes. The sun was only just starting to set, and pale reds and oranges caressed the heavens. "Look, it's starting to get dark. We've got to get back. C'mon.... C'mon, Nicky, we can't let the others see you like this."
Nicky drew in a long shaky breath and wiped his face before lifting his head. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Yeah. Sorry. It's just been bothering me."
Skylar smiled at him in that clumsy way that Nicky loved. He hated his own smile most of the time. He always smiled, especially when he wasn't happy. It was like his body didn't know how to react to his emotions and his smile would form whenever someone was there to witness his weaker moments.
Skylar was different. It wasn't like he never smiled; just that, when he did, it looked like he'd forgotten how to. His mouth would twist in some way or another, but it would never actually reach his eyes. It was really only around Nicky that Skylar truly smiled, and it was a beautifully awkward thing, like his face couldn't understand how to translate love and happiness onto his expression.
Nicky got to his feet, stumbling a little as blood rushed into his cramped legs. He helped Skylar up and gave him a grim smile.
"Alright, let's go."
7:01 pm
Night had fallen by the time they reached the old abandoned apartment building they called home. The doors were sealed off with blue plastic and metal bars, but they had managed to pry open the window of a large room on the side of the building. They waited at the entrance, stealing nervous glances at each other.
Minutes later, two girls appeared from the surrounding darkness: Anna and Tasha. Anna's wavy blonde pigtails bounced as she ran ahead of Tasha to meet them. Tasha had her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, and was scratching at her frizzy hair as she strolled over.
The four of them huddled together and counted their money. Nicky smiled. Thirty-four dollars. It was a lot more money then he'd seen in a long time.
"Does this mean we can eat today? I mean, can we?” Anna looked up at him, her eyes hopeful.
“C'mon, I'm starving. Please please please?” Tasha pouted. “If you say no, I'm eating Skylar, I swear.”
Nicky chuckled. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Yes!!” Tasha cheered, throwing her hands up in the air. She grabbed the money and sprinted away from the alley they had gathered in.
“Tasha, wait up!” Anna called after her. “Geez.” She beamed at the two boys. “You guys coming?”
"I'm not hungry." Nicky nudged Skylar in the side with his elbow.
"I... oh, yeah! I'm not hungry, either," Skylar said quickly. It was dark, but Nicky could tell from the sound of his voice that Skylar was blushing.
She nodded slowly, her smile flickering. "Oh, okay...um, I'll bring you guys something, okay?” She waved at the two of them and ran off.
Nicky didn't wait. He smiled and led Skylar to the window. Nicky pushed back an old piece of wood that was used to board the window and climbed into the room, then held it up for Skylar to do the same.
“Thanks....” Skylar struggled to pull himself through the window. He stumbled into the room and beamed in embarrassment, reaching for one of Nicky's hands. Nicky felt his face twist into a cheesy smile as he took Skylar's hands in his and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips.
"Wait," Skylar mumbled into his mouth. "What if the others-"
"It's dark, they won't see." Nicky breathed and their lips met again. He dared to press on more, careful to let his tongue brush against the small part between Skylar's lips as his hands fumbled with Skylar's shirt. Skylar let out a nervous laugh and gently pushed Nicky's wandering hands away.
"Nicky... um, no, seriously...”
“S-sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, guilt dragging down his heart. Nicky threw himself onto the small pile of old rags they slept on and faked a yawn. It was better to pretend that it didn't bother him when Skylar refused him, to pretend that such a simple word didn't completely destroy him.
“I, um...” Skylar bit his lip, dropping to his side. “I didn't mean anything by it, I just...I'm not ready...”
“I know, Sky.” He forced a weak smile. “C'mon.”
Skylar pouted, crawling over him. Nicky gulped; static caressed his skin wherever Skylar's body brushed against his.
“Wait.” His fingers crept across Nicky's face, tracing his lips. He kissed him softly and smiled. “You still upset about before?”
“Am not.” It was only half a lie, he'd forgotten about that until just now.
He thought for a moment. “Okay. I know what'll make it better. Gimme your finger,” he said, sticking his pinky finger up.
“Um, okay?”
“Mmkay.” Skylar's finger curled around his own. “Everything's gonna be okay. Pinky promise.” He rested his head on Nicky's chest. “I swear we'll be happy again, just wait for it.”
Nicky smiled to himself, letting their fingers intertwine. Skylar snuggled into him, and he closed his eyes, his words echoing in his head. He wanted to keep hoping, he really did. He just needed more than a stupid child's promise to keep on believing. He needed a miracle.
11:59 pm
It was time again.
Skylar waited until the others finally fell into an exhausted sleep before he regretfully untangled himself from Nicky's arms, placing his limp limbs down on him carefully. Skylar's mouth twisted into a frown. He glanced at the others, double-checking that they were asleep, and then slipped out into the night.
He hated what he had to do. It sickened him... and with every second that passed, he worried about being caught. He could almost see the others, their disgusted faces glaring at him with hatred and repulsion.
Then he'd be alone again.
He did this every other day, sneaking out of their safe haven and going onto the streets to sell his body. It was a disturbing hope, but maybe, with every tainted dollar thrown at him, he'd be able to save enough to rent a small apartment for a little bit, just to thank the others or something.
Nicky was so wrong about him. He wasn't the shy, innocent boy that everyone thought he was. Sure, he never really talked, but only because of years of being alone. There was just nothing worth saying anymore. He didn't have the same problems the others had; his parents never kicked him out of his house for being gay like Nicky. Tasha was a druggie; it was obvious how she ended up out here. And Anna... well, he wasn't sure why she was on the streets. But he only ran away because Nicky wanted him to. He couldn't explain it. He had a warm house to sleep in at the time, and foster parents that cared enough to take care of him, but he was still miserable. He more or less had friends, if he could call them that. They were more like people who thought of him as a cute accessory, and he hovered around them in the hopes that he'd fit in.
He wondered what they would say now if they saw him, if they even cared that he'd disappeared all of a sudden, just vanished without a trace. They probably didn't. Nobody did.
Skylar bit the inside of his cheek, burying his thoughts in the sharp sting. The cold air gnawed at his face and shivers threatened to cripple him. He walked into an alley beside a loud, brightly lit up bar. He passed the other six or so boys who walked with him, returning grim smiles. Clutching at his sweatshirt, Skylar hoped that he wouldn't be forced to take it off again. He never wanted his clients to see the rows of scars and assorted bruises that littered his body, even if they never seemed to care when they saw them. Skylar really only had to hide them from his friends, pretending it didn't hurt to move or or ignoring the pain when a wound would reopen and start to bleed again.
He stood behind the others, trying to distract himself by becoming involved in the light conversations. But they didn't talk about much, and most of the time the air was filled with nervous silences. Some boy he knew called Allen stood in the back, watching the others through a black eye and pressing his dirty sleeve against his bloody nose. He pretended not to see him.
"Oi, sluts! Get over here!" a rough voice bellowed at them. They all scrambled towards the entrance of the alley. A greasy, heavily tattooed man grinned toothily at him from under his fedora. A large man stood beside him, scanning the lot and fumbling with his suitcase.
"All right, kind sir - take your pick. I promise you, you won't be disappointed. I've got the finest boys this side of the city," Walt, the greasy man, gushed, his voice as liquid sweet as rotten honey. He smiled in a sick way, and the client smirked back.
The man looked at the seven of them again, his dark eyes glittering. "What about that one?" he finally said, pointing at Skylar. Skylar's heart pounded and his insides twisted, but he swallowed down his emotions and smiled coyly at the man.
"Oh, good choice, sir. Mouth like an angel, he's got. Best of the lot," Walt cooed, stroking Skylar's hair with a grimy hand. Skylar resisted the sudden urge to smack his hand away.
The man thought about it, looking him up and down. His eyes seemed to stop at a particularly dark bruise on the side of his neck and he flinched, his mind filling with conflicted thoughts. Would he ignore the wound and whisk him away somewhere where he couldn't get hurt anymore? "Alright," he said, and as usual, the sinking feeling of disappointment tightened Skylar's chest.
"Excellent," Walt breathed, unable to hide a smile. The man handed Walt a small bundle of bills and waved Skylar over to him. Skylar swallowed and slunk over to him, keeping his eyes fixed on the man's in what he hoped was a seductive gaze. The man smiled and put his arm around the boy's shoulders, leading him into the streets.
Skylar wondered where he was taking him. Hopefully somewhere safe and warm, where he could sleep without worries if only for a few hours.
He regretted the thought as soon as it formed in his head, as guilt attacked the edges of his mind again.
November 18
6:35 pm
“We're fucked,” Nicky mumbled, kicking the glass doors of the small convenience store. The doors slammed shut and the attached wind chimes mocked him wildly as he stomped down the street. He wasn't that upset; he was used to rejection. It was insane to even expect a job at this point. He stunk so hard God could smell him, his thin clothes had too many holes in them and his oily black hair desperately begged to be cut. But as hard as he tried to hide it, stress attacked his chest, agonizing his every thought. The horrible reality of their situation was only just starting to dawn to him.
They weren't going to make it at this rate.
Skylar looked up at him from the sidewalk. His mouth twitched downward and he glanced at the half-empty cup of spare change in his hand. His disappointment was obvious.
“We're fucked,” Nicky repeated, this time loud enough for Skylar to hear. He sank wearily to the curb beside Skylar and let the perpetually hopeful smile on his face reappear. Ruffling Skylar's long sandy hair, he looked out into the crowds, warmth seeping into his blue eyes.
A few coins dropped from the never ending mass of legs in front of them, clinking on the ground. Nicky nodded and muttered a word of gratitude to no one in particular as he scooped up the change. He looked up at the crowd but most refused to meet his gaze.
That's what he hated the most, he loathed being invisible. At home, he was practically famous, but on the streets he seemed to have disappeared in their eyes. He hated each and every person who ignored him as they passed by, stepping over their meager belongings like they were nothing but shit. But he hated the few who would actually give him food or money even more. The last thing he wanted was their pity.
His plastic smile faltered. Tugging his hood further down his face, he drew his scraped knees up to his chest, wrapping his lanky arms around them. He didn't want to cry, especially not in public. But nobody would care in a city of strangers.
"I want to go home," he moaned to himself.
Skylar's heart skipped a beat. His eyes burned with the all-too-familiar feeling of fresh tears. "Nicky, don't. Please. Not now.”
Nicky ignored him. "Y'know, it's not like I have a home to go back to. But you do, Skylar. You shouldn't have come with me..." He inhaled sharply, burying his face into his dirty sleeve. "I-I didn't want this."
Skylar swiped away an escaped tear and scrubbed at his eyes feverishly. "C'mon Nicky. Don't talk like that. I wanted to be here. With you. You know I do." He frowned as Nicky shook his head. He sighed and glanced at the sky with amber eyes. The sun was only just starting to set, and pale reds and oranges caressed the heavens. "Look, it's starting to get dark. We've got to get back. C'mon.... C'mon, Nicky, we can't let the others see you like this."
Nicky drew in a long shaky breath and wiped his face before lifting his head. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Yeah. Sorry. It's just been bothering me."
Skylar smiled at him in that clumsy way that Nicky loved. He hated his own smile most of the time. He always smiled, especially when he wasn't happy. It was like his body didn't know how to react to his emotions and his smile would form whenever someone was there to witness his weaker moments.
Skylar was different. It wasn't like he never smiled; just that, when he did, it looked like he'd forgotten how to. His mouth would twist in some way or another, but it would never actually reach his eyes. It was really only around Nicky that Skylar truly smiled, and it was a beautifully awkward thing, like his face couldn't understand how to translate love and happiness onto his expression.
Nicky got to his feet, stumbling a little as blood rushed into his cramped legs. He helped Skylar up and gave him a grim smile.
"Alright, let's go."
7:01 pm
Night had fallen by the time they reached the old abandoned apartment building they called home. The doors were sealed off with blue plastic and metal bars, but they had managed to pry open the window of a large room on the side of the building. They waited at the entrance, stealing nervous glances at each other.
Minutes later, two girls appeared from the surrounding darkness: Anna and Tasha. Anna's wavy blonde pigtails bounced as she ran ahead of Tasha to meet them. Tasha had her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, and was scratching at her frizzy hair as she strolled over.
The four of them huddled together and counted their money. Nicky smiled. Thirty-four dollars. It was a lot more money then he'd seen in a long time.
"Does this mean we can eat today? I mean, can we?” Anna looked up at him, her eyes hopeful.
“C'mon, I'm starving. Please please please?” Tasha pouted. “If you say no, I'm eating Skylar, I swear.”
Nicky chuckled. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Yes!!” Tasha cheered, throwing her hands up in the air. She grabbed the money and sprinted away from the alley they had gathered in.
“Tasha, wait up!” Anna called after her. “Geez.” She beamed at the two boys. “You guys coming?”
"I'm not hungry." Nicky nudged Skylar in the side with his elbow.
"I... oh, yeah! I'm not hungry, either," Skylar said quickly. It was dark, but Nicky could tell from the sound of his voice that Skylar was blushing.
She nodded slowly, her smile flickering. "Oh, okay...um, I'll bring you guys something, okay?” She waved at the two of them and ran off.
Nicky didn't wait. He smiled and led Skylar to the window. Nicky pushed back an old piece of wood that was used to board the window and climbed into the room, then held it up for Skylar to do the same.
“Thanks....” Skylar struggled to pull himself through the window. He stumbled into the room and beamed in embarrassment, reaching for one of Nicky's hands. Nicky felt his face twist into a cheesy smile as he took Skylar's hands in his and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips.
"Wait," Skylar mumbled into his mouth. "What if the others-"
"It's dark, they won't see." Nicky breathed and their lips met again. He dared to press on more, careful to let his tongue brush against the small part between Skylar's lips as his hands fumbled with Skylar's shirt. Skylar let out a nervous laugh and gently pushed Nicky's wandering hands away.
"Nicky... um, no, seriously...”
“S-sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, guilt dragging down his heart. Nicky threw himself onto the small pile of old rags they slept on and faked a yawn. It was better to pretend that it didn't bother him when Skylar refused him, to pretend that such a simple word didn't completely destroy him.
“I, um...” Skylar bit his lip, dropping to his side. “I didn't mean anything by it, I just...I'm not ready...”
“I know, Sky.” He forced a weak smile. “C'mon.”
Skylar pouted, crawling over him. Nicky gulped; static caressed his skin wherever Skylar's body brushed against his.
“Wait.” His fingers crept across Nicky's face, tracing his lips. He kissed him softly and smiled. “You still upset about before?”
“Am not.” It was only half a lie, he'd forgotten about that until just now.
He thought for a moment. “Okay. I know what'll make it better. Gimme your finger,” he said, sticking his pinky finger up.
“Um, okay?”
“Mmkay.” Skylar's finger curled around his own. “Everything's gonna be okay. Pinky promise.” He rested his head on Nicky's chest. “I swear we'll be happy again, just wait for it.”
Nicky smiled to himself, letting their fingers intertwine. Skylar snuggled into him, and he closed his eyes, his words echoing in his head. He wanted to keep hoping, he really did. He just needed more than a stupid child's promise to keep on believing. He needed a miracle.
11:59 pm
It was time again.
Skylar waited until the others finally fell into an exhausted sleep before he regretfully untangled himself from Nicky's arms, placing his limp limbs down on him carefully. Skylar's mouth twisted into a frown. He glanced at the others, double-checking that they were asleep, and then slipped out into the night.
He hated what he had to do. It sickened him... and with every second that passed, he worried about being caught. He could almost see the others, their disgusted faces glaring at him with hatred and repulsion.
Then he'd be alone again.
He did this every other day, sneaking out of their safe haven and going onto the streets to sell his body. It was a disturbing hope, but maybe, with every tainted dollar thrown at him, he'd be able to save enough to rent a small apartment for a little bit, just to thank the others or something.
Nicky was so wrong about him. He wasn't the shy, innocent boy that everyone thought he was. Sure, he never really talked, but only because of years of being alone. There was just nothing worth saying anymore. He didn't have the same problems the others had; his parents never kicked him out of his house for being gay like Nicky. Tasha was a druggie; it was obvious how she ended up out here. And Anna... well, he wasn't sure why she was on the streets. But he only ran away because Nicky wanted him to. He couldn't explain it. He had a warm house to sleep in at the time, and foster parents that cared enough to take care of him, but he was still miserable. He more or less had friends, if he could call them that. They were more like people who thought of him as a cute accessory, and he hovered around them in the hopes that he'd fit in.
He wondered what they would say now if they saw him, if they even cared that he'd disappeared all of a sudden, just vanished without a trace. They probably didn't. Nobody did.
Skylar bit the inside of his cheek, burying his thoughts in the sharp sting. The cold air gnawed at his face and shivers threatened to cripple him. He walked into an alley beside a loud, brightly lit up bar. He passed the other six or so boys who walked with him, returning grim smiles. Clutching at his sweatshirt, Skylar hoped that he wouldn't be forced to take it off again. He never wanted his clients to see the rows of scars and assorted bruises that littered his body, even if they never seemed to care when they saw them. Skylar really only had to hide them from his friends, pretending it didn't hurt to move or or ignoring the pain when a wound would reopen and start to bleed again.
He stood behind the others, trying to distract himself by becoming involved in the light conversations. But they didn't talk about much, and most of the time the air was filled with nervous silences. Some boy he knew called Allen stood in the back, watching the others through a black eye and pressing his dirty sleeve against his bloody nose. He pretended not to see him.
"Oi, sluts! Get over here!" a rough voice bellowed at them. They all scrambled towards the entrance of the alley. A greasy, heavily tattooed man grinned toothily at him from under his fedora. A large man stood beside him, scanning the lot and fumbling with his suitcase.
"All right, kind sir - take your pick. I promise you, you won't be disappointed. I've got the finest boys this side of the city," Walt, the greasy man, gushed, his voice as liquid sweet as rotten honey. He smiled in a sick way, and the client smirked back.
The man looked at the seven of them again, his dark eyes glittering. "What about that one?" he finally said, pointing at Skylar. Skylar's heart pounded and his insides twisted, but he swallowed down his emotions and smiled coyly at the man.
"Oh, good choice, sir. Mouth like an angel, he's got. Best of the lot," Walt cooed, stroking Skylar's hair with a grimy hand. Skylar resisted the sudden urge to smack his hand away.
The man thought about it, looking him up and down. His eyes seemed to stop at a particularly dark bruise on the side of his neck and he flinched, his mind filling with conflicted thoughts. Would he ignore the wound and whisk him away somewhere where he couldn't get hurt anymore? "Alright," he said, and as usual, the sinking feeling of disappointment tightened Skylar's chest.
"Excellent," Walt breathed, unable to hide a smile. The man handed Walt a small bundle of bills and waved Skylar over to him. Skylar swallowed and slunk over to him, keeping his eyes fixed on the man's in what he hoped was a seductive gaze. The man smiled and put his arm around the boy's shoulders, leading him into the streets.
Skylar wondered where he was taking him. Hopefully somewhere safe and warm, where he could sleep without worries if only for a few hours.
He regretted the thought as soon as it formed in his head, as guilt attacked the edges of his mind again.
