There sat a boy in tattered clothes. Patches adorning the fabric.
The boy had known nothing but sadness and heartache. Never had he known the gentle
touch of a mother's love nor the stern teachings of a father.
What was a young British boy to do? His family had disowned him because of being ashamed of his mother.
He had to make a living some way. Deep down he knew that being a crook was wrong, but in such a deceitful and hateful world what would one
more crook hurt anything?
This young boy grew up lonely. Aching for affection. He turned to books containing magical
dragons and warlocks. Powerful beings that never got taken advantage of. They were strong
and manly and capable of ruling nations. He wanted to grow up one day to be like them. One
day while reading he ran across the word Dapper. All of the strongest and adored men were
dapper fellows. In order to receive any love and affection, the boy internalized that dapperness, power, and magic would be the cures to his loneliness and constant ache for something more in his life he wanted to be loved and admired more than anything.
Magic was his escape from the harsh realities of the world. Along with his many books. As he came of age he discovered that wizards were not the only thing he could read about.
He turned to books filled with sexual content that aroused his desire for love even more. He did not feel anything more than longing for a love of his own. He tried his best to imagine himself with a woman but it wasn't working.
Then he ran across the picture of Dorian Grey. He read this book over and over for years imagining having a dapper fellow of his own pressed up against him. Oh for shame.
He cared a lot about public appearances but he would risk being looked down upon for his own happiness. He was bullied a lot as a child and it got worse during adolescence.
He wore big, round glasses that made him look dorky. He could hardly see without them and it took him so long to save up for them. He would not let his bullies take what he worked so hard for away. He was ridiculed for his dusty old clothes, his penchant for magic, and being ''four-eyed''. He never made a friend. Preferring to focus on magic and tales of grandeur. He was a happy and wide-eyed idealist.
Eventually, he realized that his ambitions were not going to get him much money so he turned to thievery and con artistry to make enough to dress the way he felt a proper dapper magician should look.
He finally had enough money to buy a cabaret. He made it for his magic shows but also for other artists to showcase their talents for money. Majority of the profits going to the Dapper fellow of course.
It took him years before he found another boy like himself. When he decided to catch a boat to France.
A boy that had no family. That was lithe and looking on the verge of death. He did funny mime shows on the street corner for change. The dapper fellow would stop by every day to watch the mime and give him money.
It became a routine. A routine that the Dapper fellow wanted to become more. The man was absolutely beautiful and would be a wonderful addition to his cabaret.
One day the Dapper fellow gave the mime money and a card. The mime looked at it inquisitively. ''Stop by anytime.'' The man offered. The mime looked at him quizzically and it took the man a second to realize that the mime could not speak or understand English. Well...that just won't do, will it? The man took back the card and wrote what he said in French before handing it back. The mime read it over and agreed with a smile as bright as the sun the beauty of his smile sending a warm and jovial emotion throughout the older man...is this what love feels like?
He was happy to see the man had accepted his offer but was surprised to see him out of his usual mime attire. He looked strikingly gorgeous. He wore an effeminate suit that clung to his round hips and behind making the older man avert his gaze lest he fall prey to temptation. The man walked up to him and said,''Bonjour,comment vas-tu?'' (Hello, how are you?)
'' Je vais bien'' (I'm good) The dapper fellow answered with a smile,''Je ne savais pas que les mimes pouvaient parler...'' (I didn't know that mimes could talk...)
''Bien sûr, je peux parler, je suis un chanteur après tout.'' ("Of course, I can talk, I'm a singer after all.")
''Ah oui?'' (Ah really? Or Ah yes?) The dapper fellow challenged,''Montre moi ce que tu peux faire...''(Show me what you can do)
The young Gaelic man strutted his way on stage making the older man stand to attention in more ways than one. The mime had a voice that was smooth as silk. He was perfect in every way. Maybe this was love. Maybe he could finally have someone that understood him and cared for him. Little did he know that he'd have that for 10 years until his own deep-seated insecurities festered beyond control. Ironically the thing he wanted most in all of the world was destroyed by his own hands.