Chapter One

Alice and Zaiden were almost to the gym when a loud resounding bang echoed down the hallway. Alice unconsciously dropped Zaiden’s hand.

The sound of heavy steps filled everyone’s eardrums in the silence of their collective surprise until a large tattooed boy continued his carefree swagger around the corner and into their line of sight. Under the harsh, artificial lighting of the old building, the boy’s tattoos seemed to crawl across his skin in an almost mesmerizing way, as the silver rings of piercings across his face gleamed dimly. He could have almost walked out of some Mayan or Aztec mythology book with his untamed and awe-inspiring presence. An awful smell wafted down toward them as he approached.

"The hell are ya?"

The lioness girl snapped Alice’s attention from the newcomer.

“Sup bitches. The name's Fox. Remember it. You know who our nanny is today?" Fox commanded, ignoring the lioness girl’s question.

Silence.

“Peter”, a frightened squeak piped up behind them.

Alice turns to see the small boy much closer to her and Zaiden than she had expected. The poor boy was as pale as a ghost and shaking with tangible fear in the presence of the fearsome being. His nose was wrinkled, and his delicate jaw tense in an almost animalistic mask of terror. Alice wished he wouldn’t look so fragile; she wanted to reassure him, but his gaze would not waver from the floor. She shifted her weight so that her body angled slightly, protectively, hoping to lean some comfort to him.

Alice heard the rest as if someone turned on a television in another room. The room was so large all of a sudden. She looked up to the tall boy she befriended. Even Zaiden’s mouth was tight, making his lips almost disappear.

"What the pansy is tryin to say is that the nanny's name is Peter." The lioness girl reiterated harshly. "You seem like you've been here before but I've never seen you around."

"I don't like to be around. This place bores the shit out of me. I've got better things to be doing with my time. Though I suppose there are perks. Tell Dick I'll be in the shower and not to wait up for me. I'd hate for you guys not to go on ahead because of me."

And with that the being… Fox, was it? He gave an unpleasant grin. Or was it only unpleasant because of the piercings and tattoo concealing his true features? Alice couldn’t know. Fox unceremoniously pushed past her.

A sudden movement caught her eye, so that she automatically turned.

"Oh yea. This is going to be fun." came a low sneer. Alice’s eyes darted to the small boy as Fox left for the locker rooms.

He had somehow managed to pale even more than before. But within a moment, the boy found the strength to push himself away from the wall, straightening his unusual collar and slicking back his hair. Some small color tinged his cheeks in embarrassment, though he looked faintly green.

"That dude is a dick." A female voice announced, before some amused laughter.

Alice tore her eyes from the boy to see the lioness girl carelessly striding forward. She stared a moment before following.

As Alice entered the gym, she easily spotted the ebony man standing authoritatively before them. Peter, her mind supplied. She glanced back to see Zaiden and the small boy just behind her. Silent. Somber.

“Took you long enough.” Peter’s voice asserted, but not unkindly.

Alice turned her attention back to the ebony man.

“Well, as I said before, we’re going to talk for a moment, but after that, I hope you’re ready to do some work.”

Luke glanced at Gabe fleetingly, for an instant, but the obvious glee in her eyes and her irritatingly infectious smile at the discomfort of others made him seethe, or maybe he was tired of being picked on right now. He lifted his chin a little and looked away, rubbing his eye, and swallowing hard. Pretending nothing had happened at all, ignoring the fact that the quiet girl was looking back at him, giving him a sympathetic expression. Though he instantly felt bad about ignoring her, when she turned away.

"That dude is a dick."

Amen.

That… ‘dude’… needed help back to the light, some church time, prayers, divine intervention, last rights, holy something… anything, complete with angels and hellfire.

Luke breathed out, shifted his weight, and crossed his arms over his chest protectively, almost as if he were chilled, today really wasn’t going as well as he had hoped.

When the group started to follow Gabe, he stayed close behind Zaiden, trying not to crowd the taller boy, but finding some solace in being nearer to the two people he liked and not so far behind, now that ‘Fox’ was down the corridor and in the locker-rooms. They passed through two large double doors leading into a gym.

Their footsteps resounded all around them as they entered as if they were a group of twenty and not only four. The gym had a strange smell to him, it smelled like rubber and shoes and a strange sweet kind of chemical cleaner. He crinkled his nose again, but tried to smooth his expression into something less sour as his gaze fell on the man in the center of the room.

“It took you long enough.” It didn’t quite sound like a reprimand, more like a statement.

Luke was practically brushing shoulders with Alice, giving Gabe a side glance before he returned his attention to Peter.

“Well, as I said before, we’re going to talk for a moment, but after that, I hope you’re ready to do some work.”

He said nothing, but slowly pried his fingers from his orange suite and lowered his hands so that they were by his side… or hovering somewhere around there, twisting his fingers together nervously and wringing his hands, and then… rather unceremoniously his arms were crossed again before he knew it. He let out a breath of air.

He looked at Alice, then at Zaiden, glad he had an authority figure to tell him what he was supposed to do now, Luke had always been good at following orders but never comfortable in the space between them.

"Aye Peter," Gabe perked up as the man barely finished his sentence. "Fox is in the shower. He said we could start with out him." She watched as the older man slightly scrunched up his nose.
"I mean it has been a little while and maybe," She unzipped her top a little bit more. "I should go check on him to see if he's okay. But by all means you can start without me as well."
She smiled and kept eye contact the whole time.

Peter raised an eyebrow at Gabe's action. He’d worked with enough revolting youth to know better. And Fox was no mystery to him either. He could easily foresee how the situation would end. “Thank you for the offer, Gabrelle, but I think he can manage to find his way here.”

Zaiden raised his eyebrows and looked down. He could only imagine how much she didn’t enjoy such a response.

“Now,” Peter began in a booming voice: not angry, but assertive. “Each and every one of you is here for a reason. For some of you, this might be your first time. For some of you, this is a familiar environment. But, no matter where you fall on that spectrum, my hope, for all of you, is that this will be your last time!”

“You all know what you did to end up here, so I won’t get into it. How much you want other’s to know is up to you.” Zaiden almost wanted to laugh. Apparently not. Apparently it was up to Gabe. His eyes drifted slowly to get a look at her, though he couldn’t see much, other than the fact that she was still standing there, from such an angle. He looked quickly back to Peter as he continued his speech.

“Despite what you may, or may not believe, I care about each of you. I want you to get through this and be done here, just as much as you do. That being said, bullshit will not be tolerated! Is that clear?” Silence. Probably due to shock.

“I said, is that clear?!” He repeated, this time far more forcefully. Zaiden would have never guessed he was capable of such… persuasion. Everyone, with the exception of Alice, gave a verbal response simultaneously.

“Good! Now… let’s get started!”

Before Zaiden could mentally catch up with what had just happened, they were being led outside to a row of bayside benches. Peter handed them each a paintbrush and a bucket of white paint and headed back towards the community center to get Fox.

Zaiden walked over to the furthest bench, decided to start at the end and work his way back. He crouched down, dipped his brush into his bucket, and looked up. The view in front of him was beautiful. He stared through the bars of the railing, some fifteen feet in front of him, and into the deep blue water.

Luke, self-consciously brushed a strand of his dark brown hair from his face and gave Gabe a side-long look when she relayed that Fox had arrived and was currently taking a shower, which was desperately needed. His widening blue gaze fell on her hand as she lifted it to unzip her suite a little more, and he very quickly looked away, deliberately toward Peter who’s own expression looked calmly disapproving, eyebrow arched.

He thought he might have to start carrying around a little notepad in his suite pocket for such occasions as this; to start tallying up how many decades of the rosary Gabe needed, because obviously she was past singular prayers this late in the salvation game. He cleared his throat and lifted his chin a little as Peter handled her appropriately.


“Now,” Peter said rather loudly, or maybe it only sounded loud because his words bounced off the walls and back at them. “Each and every one of you is here for a reason. For some of you, this might be your first time. For some of you, this is a familiar environment. But, no matter where you fall on that spectrum, my hope, for all of you, is that this will be your last time!”

Luke knew it would be his last time, but glancing around at the faces of the people standing next to him, he wondered if it would be Zaiden’s and Alice’s last time too… or if they were both contrary to their mellow appearances, if they would end up here again.


“You all know what you did to end up here, so I won’t get into it. How much you want others to know is up to you.” Luke felt the corner of his mouth twitch… as if he had a choice…


“Despite what you may, or may not believe, I care about each of you. I want you to get through this and be done here, just as much as you do. That being said, bullshit will not be tolerated! Is that clear?”

He swallowed, shaken from his silent reveries by the slightly louder shout.


“I said, is that clear?!”

“yes.” He replied in a small voice.

“Good! Now… let’s get started!”


Peter turned and headed towards the exit door, and Luke found himself standing stalk still and rather shocked, staring at the back of his shirt, at his broad shoulders. His feet moved without his permission and he stumbled a little before trailing after Peter, following as closely as was permitted. They were lead through a white metal door and into the dull, slightly overcast morning. Here you could see the bay, and the ships in the harbor, bobbing up and down on lapping waves. The wind tossed his dark hair back into his face and he watched a pair of seagulls tumble through the air, chasing each other like awkward puppets balancing on unsteady strings. He breathed in deep, it wasn’t such a bad day to work outside and as Peter began to explain to them the task, it seemed relatively simple.

Six old and paint-chipped benches hunched like decrepit reposing creatures, facing the sea with weather-warn planking. They were in desperate need of a fresh paint job.

He looked up at their instructor before he gingerly took a paintbrush and paint can from him.

Peter turned and Luke didn’t look, but he could hear his heavy footsteps heading back towards the door and through it, into the gym, he was probably going to go make sure that Fox actually showed up.

Luke took a tentative step forward towards the line of benches, picking a middle bench, something neutral and something he would hopefully not get picked on for. He halted in front of it and he sank into a kneeling position, looking up towards Alice, lifting his wind-disheveled hair from over his left eye, smiling at her shyly.

He’d not introduced himself…

“Hi there.” He said, picking up the pry bar sitting on the bench there and setting it to his can of paint, starting to open it, biting his lower lip with concentration before he finally popped it open and focused his full attention on her. “I bet…” he leaned forward a little glancing at Zaiden. “This job would go much faster if two people worked on a bench together.” He suggested, tilting his head a little. “If you would like…”

Peter was speaking, but Alice wasn’t quite paying attention. His tone was well-meaning and kind, in a sort of tough love way. Alice was looking around at the walls and ceiling, studying each crevasse, as she listened to the awkward echo of the gym that made Peter’s voice a low hum.

“I said, is that clear?!” the ebony man said loudly and more forcefully. Alice was stunned from her reverie and shifted her eyes back to Peter. She nodded as the others responded with surprised sounds of confirmation.

“Good! Now… let’s get started!”

Alice floated forward musing lightly about what they might be doing as Peter led everyone through a white metal door, outside to the now slightly overcast sky. The humidity clung lightly to Alice’s skin, like an invisible embrace as the salty breeze tousled her short locks. Now that she wasn’t running with the sun beaming directly on her, it wasn’t so hot out.

Alice walked forward, with her face upturned to the breeze in her usual happiness to be outside. She almost ran into Zaiden’s back as everyone had stopped abruptly. She peeked around him so that she could see a row of benches lining the sidewalk. Their paint was chipping off with the moist air, and they had that distinct, comfortably timeworn look about them.

Peter was explaining what they had to do now. It was relatively simple; it was just painting. Alice loved painting. She had enjoyed painting her own happy yellow walls of her room when she was smaller. Her mother had even let her stencil on a border of daisies. Alice smiled dreamily at the happy memory.

Alice was surprised as Peter gently shoved a brush and paint bucket into her hands. She had been dreaming again. Alice looked around to choose her bench as everyone else seemed to have done.

“Hi there,” A soft, kind voice spoke. Alice shifted her eyes to a nearby bench.

The shorter boy was kneeling, using a pry bar to open his can of paint. His forehead furrowed as he bit his lip, focusing his small frame to generate enough pressure until the top gave a small pop.

“I bet…” the boy leaned forward a little, taking a sideways glance to the end of the benches. “This job would go much faster if two people worked on a bench together.” The boy’s head tilted slightly, like a small puppy. His eyes were such a lovely shade of blue, and so very careful. “If you would like…” he trailed off kindly.

Alice smiled brightly and nodded, nonchalantly dropping to her knees beside him. She pulled out her small notepad again and unclipped her pen from her pocket, starting to write in her usually messy scrawl.

My name is Alice. I'm mute.

She eagerly turned the notepad for him to see, smiling.

Luke took in the slender girl’s radiant smile with a shy faltering curve of his lips, looking down a little, catching a few strands of his dark hair as the warm sea breeze ran up against his back, holding his bangs from his bashful gaze as she lowered to her knees beside him. He turned his face a little towards her, observing the way her eyes changed, green interlaced with silver, a soft color that he’d never seen before anywhere else.

Her mousy short hair flowed around her pale face, tossed by the gentle wind from the bay, she was so content on writing, that she didn’t seem to notice him staring in doe-eyed curiosity at her. He blinked a few times when she lifted her small notepad and he read the scrawled words, before shifting a little meeting her smile with his own.

“You’re name is very lovely, enchanting, actually.” He commented quietly, biting his lip with a slight blush, lifting his right hand and taking hers, folding it between both of his in a warm, almost priestly kind of way. “Mine is Luke.” He held her hand in his for a moment, and released gently like it was the most normal greeting in the world, at least between the brothers of the oratory, it expressed the feelings they couldn’t articulate with words.

He lifted the lid of his paint can, and set it down on the old pavement, folding his legs under him in a more comfortable kneeling position, sitting back on his legs as he took his paintbrush in his hand. He cleared his throat and shifted over a little to make space for her if she wanted to join him painting the seat of the bench.

The girl had a divine light, a kind light about her, it seemed to soften into her face and filter out from her bright eyes, and when he met them with his own it was like he was held in that kindness. “Of all the people in this group…” He started, dipping his paintbrush into the tin can and lifting it to the chipped old wood planks of the bench. “I thought… maybe… you seemed the nicest.” His gaze remained fixed on the paint, catching a drop with the brush, before dipping it back into the can, looking back into her face again. He knew instantly he could easily become quite fond of her, her innocent demeanor was a comfort to him, something familiar, like a piece of home.

“You’re name is very lovely, enchanting, actually,” Luke said in his soft, gentle voice.

Alice smiled happily at the compliment.

The boy bit his lip, his face faintly flushed. He slowly reached for Alice’s hand, enveloping her hand with his own, as if planting a prayer there. His palms were soft and warm. They were nothing like her father’s coarse, callused hands. Those were a working man’s hands.

“Mine is Luke,” the boy said quietly. Alice gazed into his face, truly seeing him for the first time. He had such a kind face: a friendly round chin and large blue eyes. His lips and cheek had a soft girlish curve to them that is usually only seen in children. His dark, windswept bangs swayed into his eyes in the wind. Alice tilted her head unconsciously as she studied him, eyes wide with curiosity. The moment passed by as if on gossamer wings. Luke gently freed her hand from his and the spell was broken.

Alice, dazed from the spell, blinked to see him lifting the lid of the paint can and setting it down. Alice shifted her eyes to the bench they were about to paint. It was a shame to change something so beautifully ancient. She gazed down into her open palm, studying the lines as if expecting to see it change. Alice was lost to a far off place.

Luke cleared his throat. Alice turned her attention to the sound. He had shifted from his original perch to make space for her. She smiled and scooted closer.

“Of all the people in this group…” Luke began softly, shyly not meeting her eyes. He dipped his paintbrush in the paint and started painting with long, deliberate strokes. “I thought… maybe… you seemed the nicest.”

Alice smiled happily when he met her eyes, reassuring him that she was happy to be working with him too. She liked Luke. He was careful; cautious. She could see it in the way he moved, in the sound of his voice. She would have to be gentle with him. She had to keep him safe.

She dipped her brush into the paint can, carefully tapping off the excess and smoothing it along the boards of the half-way exposed, weatherworn wood.

They worked quietly for a while. Alice unconsciously tucked a stray hair back behind her ear, smudging a white streak across her cheek. She had become absorbed with the task and the world had fallen away for the moment.

Gabe hadn't payed attention to any of the nonsense Peter had said about being someone in society. She had money therefore she was already a member of society.
Setting her paint bucket down she watched as the others picked a bench. Luke awkwardly talked to Alice as they started to paint together and the other boy picked one all the way at the end. Rolling her eyes she put her headphones back in and set her brush down.
Picking up the paint bucket she grinned as she slowly poured lines of paint down each wooden beam of the seat. Setting it back down she placed it under the first beam as she took her brush and swiped it down in one quick swipe placing most of the excess paint back into the bucket. She did this for each beam and before she knew it she was over halfway done with her bench as everyone else was still slowly painting theirs.
The thing about Gabe is that she actually did the work she was supposed to do so that adults would still like her. If you wanted anything in the world you had to get the adults to trust you.
Finishing her bench she stood and looked at Luke and Alice. For some reason she had no interest in messing with Alice and Luke was getting on her last nerves as he kept a constant blush that he was so close to a female. Shrugging them off she walked over towards Zaiden.
"Hey." The only thing she said as she stood there and stared at him because while he was on his knees he was still close to her eye level.

"Don't ignore me, Steele!"

Zaiden kept walking, not paying the group of boys any attention. He put up with enough of their crap at school. He wasn't about to let them mess up his night. This was his time with Mickey. He didn't get that much any more, so he was going to enjoy it while he had it.

"That your boyfriend, Z?"

Why did people who didn't know him always think they could give him nicknames, like they were friends or something? It wasn't amusing, nor was it appreciated. And didn't they have somewhere to be? They had been standing outside of a club when he and Mickey had walked by.

The four boys continued following them down the street. Zaiden still didn't acknowledge them. It was getting under their skin and he smiled at the thought. A small part of him worried, as it was dark outside, hardly any lights around, and the number of other people was even fewer. However, he seriously doubted they would try anything. They were cowards, just like every other high school kid who picks on others just because they can.

Mickey turned around then, noticing the boys for the first time. He turned back to Zaiden, continuing to walk, and lifted his hands. Who are those boys, he asked in sign. Just some idiots from my school, Zaiden signed back. Just then, a loud laugh filled the air behind them.

"No way! You got yourself a retarded fag?!"

Zaiden stopped.

"Hey."

Zaiden blinked, coming back to reality. He turned his head to see Gabe standing beside him, just staring at him. What's she thinking?

"Um... Hi. What's up?" he replied, not sure what else to say or ask.

His attention was then shifted to the pain in his knees that he hadn't noticed while his mind had been elsewhere. He shifted so that he was sitting on his heels, the balls of his feet holding him up. It was as he was shifting to this position that he noticed he was halfway done with his bench. The things he accomplished on autopilot amazed him sometimes.

He turned to look back at Gabe, not wanting to deal with her reaction, should she think he was ignoring her or being rude.

"Um..Hi. What's up?" He asked in a slightly apprehensive tone. She kept staring at him as she took in what he looked like and noticed that besides his height he looked normal. She would have never looked twice at this boy if he hadn't been so tall.

"Your name is the only one I don't know." She shifted her weight onto her right foot and kept eye contact. Gabe had no idea how she had gone this long without knowing his name but he was good at keeping quiet so it didn't really bother her. She knew that she didn't hate him as much as she hated Luke.

"Your name is the only one I don't know," Gabe said.

Well... that certainly hadn't been what Zaiden had expected. Honestly, he hadn't even remembered that he'd never told her. It made him want to smile though. He didn't really know her... at all, so he could be completely wrong, but it almost felt as if she was asking because a small, hidden part of her cared. Not just because she was curious, but because maybe, in some small corner of her being, she cared about him, just a little bit. She cared enough to ask. Enough to make the effort to get more information.

Zaiden let the smile that tugged at his lips show, just a smidgen. The corner of his mouth curved up.

"My name is Zaiden," he finally replied. He just looked at her for a second before adding more. "And, I'm sorry, that I didn't tell you earlier. I'm usually not comfortable around people I don't know."

It was the most he'd said all day, by far, and it surprised him. Not just because of how much he'd said, or even what he'd said, but also because of who he'd said it to. Sometimes life was full of surprises.

His apology took Gabe by surprise. "It's whatever."

She tried to size him up but couldn't get a good read on him from the short sentence. She wanted to know how much he was going to say and how many lies he could string together in the short amount of time they were going to be here.

"How old are you? You're freakishly tall ya know that?"

"How old are you? You're freakishly tall ya know that?"

Zaiden looked back to the bench in front of him. Well, whether it was because she cared, or for some other reason, she was interested enough to keep asking him questions. Zaiden decided to go along with it. It was all very foreign to him, but for some reason he just felt like talking now.

"I'm eighteen, yes, I know, and no, I don't play basketball, nor do I want to." He added another half smile at the end, wanting to make sure it was obvious that he wasn't being negative. He'd just heard that comment too many times before, and all too often it was followed by a comment or question about him playing basketball. It only made him loathe it more.

He turned back to the bench again and continued painting, waiting for the next question that might or might not come.

"Basketball didn't even cross my mind." Gabe crossed her arms and looked towards the other two for a moment. "I actually just thought of how you are able to reach everything yourself."

She watched him paint as she realized that he wasn't super interesting. He was just tall. Gabe thought about how much she really needed his height and if the conversation would be worth it. He didn't even seem like he would be fun to pick on.

"Basketball didn't even cross my mind." she crossed her arms and looked to the side for a few seconds. "I actually just thought of how you are able to reach everything yourself."

Zaiden contemplated making a joke about how he was the reason his father never bought a ladder, but figured one remotely jestful comment was enough for the time being, so instead he just remained silent. He turned to look at her again, continuing to paint as he did. He wanted to say something in return, perhaps ask her a question, but he couldn't think of anything. He doubted she'd ever be someone he considered a friend, and they hadn't been put in this situation together, he probably would have never spoken to her in his life.

He picked up the pace a little bit, wanting to finish the bench faster. There were still two more that hadn't even been touched, and it didn't look like Gabe would be working on them any time soon, so that meant more work for everyone else.

Luke had continued painting in relative silence, which wasn’t difficult considering his company, the girl was easy to feel at peace around and he was content to drop his guard and keep his mind focused on the steady strokes of his paintbrush, the dipping and the reapplying… it was soothing, relaxing, just listening to the sounds of the harbor and cries of the seagulls and the warm breeze that pressed against his body from time to time.

He’d avoided dripping white paint on the black metal arms of the bench and got to his feet, unsteadily, almost stumbling, his foot had fallen asleep. Straightening now, he finished the last touches on the back of the bench, and stepped back to take a look at the old worn thing, now white and shimmering with wet paint.

A movement of orange caught his eye and his attention drifted curiously in the direction of Zaiden and Gabe.

The dark-skinned girl was standing by the other boy’s bench in an aggressive pose, staring at him directly in the face, and though he couldn’t make out their conversation from this distance he hoped she was at least keeping a civil tongue. He winced at the thought of her previous taunting and lowered his paint brush the slightest bit, bowing to pick up the white paint can, still watching them.

The quiet boy didn’t deserve to have to put up with any harassment… and if she started in on him… Luke would feel obligated to at least call her out. She thought she was all-that… sure, she had the ability to be filthy, elementary, and remarkably condescending considering both of those traits, but she shouldn’t have the automatic right to harass whoever she wanted to in this group.

After deciding that she seemed to be treating Zaiden decently he turned his face back to Alice, using the back of his wrist to swipe his hair from over his eyes, trying not to smear white paint on his forehead, swaying a little at the unbalanced weight he held in his one hand.

“Would you like to try to tackle another one?” He asked inclining his head in the direction of the nearest unpainted bench, this one was located just slightly nearer to Zaiden and Gabe, encase the taller boy needed some intervention. He didn’t seem like the type to stand up for himself… well Luke wasn’t much better… but he couldn’t help but be concerned.

“Perhaps we should ask him to join us.” Luke said, staring off, back at the other two once more, his lips pressed together into a thin line, as he considered for a few more moments. Finally, he stepped away and set the paint can down on the ground next to the next unpainted bench, dipping his brush in and lifting it to trace over the rough warn wood. He widened his eyes at Alice beckoning her to follow him before he cleared his throat and returned his blue gaze to the other two members of his group.

“You know, if you wanted.” he said loudly enough to catch Zaiden’s attention, cutting in on his conversation with Gabe. “Whenever you are done with that bench you could join us… we could finish the last two benches quicker that way…” he spoke directly to the taller boy, only giving Gabe a slightly timid side-long glance.

Luke was looking down the row of benches at the other two. Alice peered past him to see what it was. The lioness girl and Zaiden were talking. Alice gazed at Luke wondering why this scene made Luke watch so carefully.

Luke’s eyes met hers as he pushed his bangs back with the ball of his wrist.

“Would you like to try to tackle another one?” He asked, nodding his head in the direction of the next bench.

“Perhaps we should ask him to join us.” Luke’s gaze wondered back to the girl and Zaiden as if pulled by some unseen force. His lips had become a thin line of tension. Alice wondered what was wrong. Was Luke okay? Her forehead furrowed slightly in her confusion.

Not waiting for Alice’s answering smile, Luke stepped up to the next bench, setting down his bucket and beginning to paint. He glanced back to Alice, his eyes wide. He wanted her to follow. Alice rose, unsteady from sitting so long, and grabbed her bucket, following Luke to the bench.

Luke had cleared his throat and was again gazing intently at the others.

“You know, if you wanted, whenever you are done with that bench you could join us… we could finish the last two benches quicker that way…” Luke said rather loudly.

Alice flopped to her knees behind the bench and started painting, not really thinking about the task anymore.

“You know," Zaiden turned to look in Luke's direction as he began to speak. He was talking loudly enough that it was obvious he wanted one of them to hear him. "if you wanted, whenever you are done with that bench you could join us… we could finish the last two benches quicker that way…”

Zaiden smiled, knowing now that Luke was talking to him. He hadn't really spoken to the boy yet, but that seemed to be mostly due to circumstantial reasons. Had they been together longer before Gabe had first shown up, they probably would have started talking. Either way, there was no reason he couldn't start now. Aside from seeming a little judgmental in response to Gabe, which was acceptable because, well, it was Gabe, he seemed rather nice.

"Okay," Zaiden replied, a smile still on his face. "Sounds good." He turned back to the bench and rushed to finish painting it. His conversation with Gabe had kind of stopped anyways, so he didn't feel he was being rude. Not to mention, they never said she couldn't join them too, though he doubted she would.

She cut her eyes at Luke. "Are you guys really that slow that you need 3 people to paint a bench when I got mine done in 5 minutes?" She then glanced at Alice.

"And y'all want to call yourself a working member of society." Gabe laughed as she picked up her paint bucket, walked over to the bench next to the last one and to prove a point started painting again.

She was good at what she did. If she wasn't then she wasn't going to do it. Mainly only because she liked showing off. From the corner of her eye she watched them all work together to paint the stupid bench and shook her head.

"Okay," Zaiden replied.

Luke felt the tension ease from his shoulders and face a little, though he glanced timidly at Gabe again, but only for a few seconds before returning his attention back at the tall boy who was turning his back now to finish up painting the bench he was working on.

"Sounds good."

Luke stood there with his paintbrush pressed against the wet and glistening white paint of the second bench he and Alice had started painting and his soft gaze alighted on the kind girl’s face, tracing it with observation or to fill long pause of silence and avoid the cutting look he received from Gabe.

"Are you guys really that slow that you need three people to paint a bench when I got mine done in five minutes?"

Luke didn’t think he needed to respond to that, seeing as she would only use it as further fodder to disrupt the fragile group dynamic that Luke was trying desperately to forge with those willing to.

Over the railings a flock of seagulls flapped from the surface of the water and took off into the harbor, riding the wind towards the ships.

"And y'all want to call yourself a working member of society."

Another careful look and despite his almost calm expression he visibly flinched when Gabe passed him to the bench which she now began painting. He drew his brush absently over the rough unpainted wood of his task before he lifted his pale blue gaze to Zaiden.
“We were introduced before, but not personally.”

A blush crept into his cheeks tinting them for a moment or two, before fading into paleness again.

“I… didn’t know if she was harassing you or not… sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He broke off into another awkward pause and lifted the back of his wrist to brush his brunette bangs from his face, smiling slightly at Alice.

“I thought it would be a good opportunity to talk, is all. Only if you want to, also Alice won’t have to write for me if you can translate.” He bit a tender lower lip and looked contemplative for a few moments, kneeling down, shrinking his size even smaller, as he focused on painting now.

Every once in a while he snuck a few looks at Gabe as she was finishing another bench. With her effort to prove she was so much better than them, who knew, maybe she would finish the last bench as well.

Zaiden ignored Gabe’s comment. Sure, he had just been talking to her a moment ago, as if they were good friends or something, but he wasn’t going to egg her on, even accidentally. Instead he focused intently on the wet hairs of his paint brush as it slid across the old wood of the bench in front of him. He was good at blocking things out, most of the time.

“We were introduced before, but not personally.” Zaiden didn’t respond. He was focusing. He didn’t realize he was even being spoken to. “I… didn’t know if she was harassing you or not… sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” Zaiden looked away from his brush then, the sound of Luke’s voice finally reaching him. The boy’s previous statement came back to him then and he realized what was being said for the first time. He was just about to open his mouth to respond when Luke spoke again.


“I thought it would be a good opportunity to talk, is all. Only if you want to, also Alice won’t have to write for me if you can translate.” Luke bent down to work on the bench as he finished. It was then that Zaiden noticed his face to be a bit more red than usual.

“I’d like that,” Zaiden informed them both. “I mean, I’d like to help. And having people to talk to always helps.” He gave a smile as he ended his response. He wanted to make it clear that he genuinely liked the idea of being on good terms. Even if he didn’t speak much, just having a conversation that he could listen to, that he was invited to listen to, and be a part of if he so chose, was a nice luxury. One he normally couldn’t afford.

He turned back then and continued the back and forth movements with his brush. They’d be done with this job in no time, and things were finally starting to look up for community service.

Everyone has a story. Whether it is with oneself. Or ones family and friends. Or with a lover. My relationship was with fire. That is my tale... my book. My lover, and he was so beautiful burning brightly through the space where my soul and heart would be located... if I had one. It was in everything I did. Part of who I was. And that was the only one true thing I knew about myself, was that fire was my God. My destruction and my wicked, wicked desire. If you could call it that. If you could say that I had any desires. I burned that building down, for the pure reason that I just wanted to. I was bored. There was nothing else to do to pass the time until I completed the one thing that I did want to do. Or the one person I wanted to do. And well... he's not with me anymore, so I need to move on to bigger and brighter flamed things. Everyone has a story, whether it is about yourself, or your life, or your miserable excuse for a God... it's still your story... your own. And well... this... right here? This is my story.

XXX

I stood calmly in the dilapidated alley. Holding the lighter in my hand, rolling it between my fingers. A cigarette calmly bedded within my mouth, between my lips. I sucked in a deep breath before turning my face to the clouds, the perfect clouds on a perfect day. It made me sick.

Holding the smoke in my lungs I counted to five in Romanian. Finally after the final number: Cinci, I let it out. It was weird... I'm French and can speak it fluently. But the language that fascinates me most is Romanian. So I'm often pondering it and counting and speaking and dreaming in it. But at the current moment I was anticipating the evening... in the best sense that I could. After all... I was a little different. My mind seemed very detached most of the time. And no one ever really contested me for it. No one stood against me. I was a faithful disciple in the God that was held in my right hand.

The best thing about having fire as my God... was that he was better than the other's. He was merciful and at the same time cruel. Loving and caring, warming me, and at other times burning.... hating, searing my skin. He promised to love and promised to hate. To give and to take. So I was never let down. I was never disappointed in all that he did. It was wonderful.

Fire gave birth to me. The fire and passion in my mother and father created my own being, but... they were already burned. Already gone. Fuck it... it doesn't matter. All that mattered to me right now? Taking some pretty twink tonight at the club. I needed a new addiction. At least... a new human addiction. And I was sure I'd find it tonight.

I sighed... taking one last drag before putting the cig out on the stone wall I was leaning on. I moved the lighter to my pocket and shifted. Standing up to my full height I adjusted my white t-shirt and the leather jacket that covered it. My jeans were faded and torn and my belt dark. I moved forwards running my hands through my blonde hair, slicking it back while licking my lips. My blue eyes darkening instantly. My chucks were a little lose on my feet, from all the walking I'd been doing lately. I didn't have the drive to bend down and re-tie my shoes though. So I let them be. I lifted my fingerless-gloved hands to my pocket and dug out fire once more. I played with it a bit, letting it burn my black-painted fingernails before striding out of the alley to my bike parked on the street.

I had a bike and I had a jeep. That was it. I stayed at my apartment in the city and took the jeep out when I wanted to set fire to the woods. It was good for going to the country. But the city was where I thrived. I was the kind of person that walked around at 2 am, just because I could. Because no one would dare stop me. I've found many a lot of things going out late at night or early in the morning. And fighting is something I've found the most, aside from solidarity. I never minded that. I've never lost a fight... and I never would. Unless it was to fire, but that’s a fight I wouldn’t mind losing.

I climbed onto my bike swiftly and headed towards the Center. I had to... be of service to my community. Apparently... it's bad to set fire to what I thought was an abandoned building, and to injure the small boy inside. But really... it's not that big of a deal. People die every freaking day. People drown, and get into car accidents, people fucking trip and die... Maybe it's just me... but intellectually speaking it's ridiculous to think that locking someone up or making them work and do community service is going to make the world a better place... because it won't. The world is nasty and awful and so austere... and it's not getting any better. Either way... maybe they'll be some new people there... new people to watch.

After all... I like to watch.

Turning the last corner of these dirty streets, I found myself pulling into the parking lot of the Center. This was going to suck... but another part of me knew it would help pass the hours till night. And that was truly when I lived. People are puppets. To control them, all you need to do is... pull the right strings.

Stepping off of the bike I moved towards the entrance of the building. There was graffiti on some parts of it. Dirty words, and vile pictures. People were so immature. Really? Drawing penis' on the side of a building with the length, width, and number so you can get girls? What happens when someone like me gets that number and you end up, beaten, raped, and dead in your own bed? I hate people.

Before entering the building, I heard voices. Following them I walked around to the back of the building. I stopped. Four teenagers were painting benches by the bay. One was very tall... and gangly. Yeah, he was lanky, weird looking. Like he kept a lot inside and preferred to be unseen... invisible. Then there was this small girl, mousy, soft looking. I really hated girls. Especially ones that looked weak. And the other girl was black, and to me she looked very... promiscuous. I don't like sluts either. My eyes finally reached the last person there. A small boy. A beautiful, slim, pale, small boy.

Fire's going to love this boy... love him so much. He's going to eat him alive, and burn, burn until there is nothing left. And I was going to pour the kerosene and strike the match.

I was going to destroy him. This precious little angel... this pretty little bitch.

I knew this was going to be fun... he had small wrists... delicate ones, breakable. I could see the way he moved, the way he turned away from the others. For a while I just watched. Watched his interaction... of lack of. Either way he was still beautiful. Every once in a while he would push his bangs out of his eyes. And what eyes they were... I could see how blue they were from here. I could see so much from just twenty feet away. He was untouched... clean, well, with baggage. But physically untouched. And he was mine... I knew he was mine from the second I saw him.

I pulled fire out... playing with it once more, feeling the weight in my hand. The cool of the metal... and I thought: how beautiful would that pale skin look burned, scarred? So delicate and broken. So fragile. Now I just needed to know the name of my victim. I'd bet it was something pretty.

I moved towards the group of miscreants, walking right up to them...

Let the games begin

"Aye! Who are you?" Gabe called out to the guy walking towards them as she stood up from her bench. She hadn't really minded that they left her alone because that's where she had placed herself but as soon as she felt someone else come towards them she was set on edge.

Automatically putting her hands on her hips she kept firm eye contact with the new guy.
"You ain't supposed to be here." She stated matter of factly as the he stopped where she was but kept mainly looking at Luke.

Despite how she acted towards Luke and the others Gabe moved without thinking to stand in front of them. He was hers to pick on and she really didn't like how the blonde was looking at them.

Gabe tensed as she noticed the lighter in his hands and narrowed her eyes. "So you're a freak that likes fire huh? Maybe we can work on an understanding then. I watch cars burn. What do you do?"

She had no idea why she had become so talkative but she knew that that would at least open him up quicker rather than having to wait to see what would happen. Naturally becoming protective she put her hands behind her to signal to the others that they should stay close behind her because she knew that out of the the whole group Zaiden and herself would be the only ones that would be able to hold ground.

“I’d like that,”

The tall boy finally spoke and Luke wished he’d speak more, his voice had a soothing, relaxing, quality to it, it chased away the awkward apprehension between the three of them and Luke settled into a more comfortable silence, concentrating on painting between the bars of the bench, biting his tender lower lip as he brushed.

“I mean, I’d like to help. And having people to talk to always helps.”

Luke looked up in Zaiden’s direction again, noting that the other had turned his back to continue painting in persistent strokes, to finish his bench.

A warm wind gusted out towards the bay and blew dirt and dust across the cement and sent it tumbling under their feet, Luke noticed the sky then, a hesitantly moody expression between stormy and overcast. This morning he had buttered toasted waffles and watched the Weather Channel from the small black and white TV in the oratory kitchen and he was almost positive that the weather announcer had predicted clear skies. He kept his blue gaze fixed upwards towards the churning heavens, dipping his paint brush back in the bucket and finishing the last strip of unpainted bench.

A tingling awakened him to his surroundings and a spark of caution crept up his spine. He shivered a little in the breeze, his stomach felt like he had just bottomed out from an elevator drop and he set his brush down, turning his head, looking back over his shoulder, searching for the source of his sudden discomfort.

There was a blonde boy about twenty feet away, staring at them from just around the corner of the community building, cast in its shadow. He was tall, slender, but well built, graced with a defined jaw, effortlessly pleasing features, and an aura that unnerved Luke instantly. It sent his heart beating against his ribs. That handsome face didn’t relieve Luke’s gathering mistrust, the undeniably beautiful stranger reminded him of something he’d read once as a child, unkindness swathed in apparent grace… an angel with a serpentine eyes. The new arrival seemed to be staring intensely at him… rolling a lighter in his hands with the adoration of a lover. It felt dirty and unclean, that sight, and Luke swallowed and looked down and away, tensing his delicate jaw when the stranger started to approach.

"Aye! Who are you?"

He stood up, almost instantly, already poised, his work already interrupted as Gabe called out at the stranger from her bench, he’d never seen that expression on her usually smug face, it was an expression of defensiveness. The girl had street smarts that Luke had never learned, and perhaps she got the exact same feeling from the way the boy had stood there, watching them. He took a step back as the stranger drew to a halt near them and he almost backed into the still wet bench, looking nervous again, brushing his bangs back from his forehead in the face of another gust of wind.

"You ain't supposed to be here."

Internally, Luke was shocked that Gabe could find her voice because his seemed to have gone missing all together, glancing at the blond and dropping his gaze, trying to avoid eye contact, direct confrontation. Gabe inserted herself between the rest of them and the stranger, protectively, and his dislike of her lessened considerably.

"So you're a freak that likes fire huh? Maybe we can work on an understanding then. I watch cars burn. What do you do?"

Fire. A Pyromaniac? That would explain his loving caress of the tool in his hands, from this distance Luke noted the other’s black chipped fingernails, and the piercings not so numerous as Fox’s, not overdone, accenting the cool color of those blue eyes.

Gabe’s hands slid behind her, as if to signal that they stay back and Luke looked down again at the ground, his arms crossing over his chest timidly, moving closer to Alice because she radiated a warmth and kindness that made him feel safer, because under that boy’s gaze he felt vulnerable… naked.