Everlasting Wishes

Arc 1: Grell's Crush.

Chapter 1: Unacceptable.

~Grell Sutcliff~

It was just like any other day.

Grell Sutcliff was twenty-two years old. His naturally red hair was long, reaching his waist. He had a slender, feminine figure which he rather admired, a figure which his smooth, flawless, pale skin stretched effortlessly over. He had supple muscle that didn't bulge, but he wasn't weak in any physical way. His facial features were gentle, womanly, and he himself wouldn't put it any other way. He loved the way he looked. He always had. There was only one flaw... and sadly, that flaw was the biggest it could've been.

He was male.

It was the most frustrating thing in the world to know that you were born the wrong gender. He once had two older sisters - how come they were female and he wasn't? Sometimes, Grell felt as though a higher entity had cursed him with the body of a man for something he did in a past life. Had he killed people? Had he stolen? While he wasn't hugely pious, it was a matter that he couldn't help but wonder about.

He looked feminine. He was attracted to males. He enjoyed dressing up in women's clothing, but liked how men's clothing looked on another male body.

Curse whatever made things this way. Curse fate... the cruelest thing in the universe.

But lately, Grell hadn't been worried about that sort of thing, because he had bigger matters to attend to. He had lost another job, and he didn't have enough money as a cushion to live on it for very long. The rent for his apartment was the biggest frustration, because he hadn't even the slightest bit of control over how that went. His pet cat, a pretty white feline with blue eyes, was the only thing that served to calm him lately. Her name was Truth, because it was the only way Grell felt he would be able to remember his parents. The only two people in the world who ever told him to be true to himself and not pretend to be someone else just because other people would like him better. His dear mother, who said that it doesn't matter how Grell dresses, or what gender he likes, because that's just what sets him apart. His kind father, who pressed that if one wasn't original, then nothing would ever happen in the world. He told his red-haired son that he could be whomever he wanted to be, because he and Grell's mother would always love him.

But they were gone now...

Truth lay curled up in Grell's lap, a small purr coming from her as Grell brushed through her silky fur. "It's okay, Truth," Grell sighed as he scanned the papers. "I'll find something. We're going to get through this." His eyes paused at Spears's Spectacles. If only they needed help. That was such a reknown company, that glasses crafting place...

Society was relentless with their abuse.

Too often did Grell go out on to the streets and get met by dirty looks wherever he went. Sometimes, he'd snap and start running, blinded by tears, back to his apartment. People shoved him, kicked him out of places, and he knew that his chances at getting a job were going to fade if his bad reputation swelled any further. He was a sweet young man, never meaning anyone harm, but for some reason, people were offended at the very sight of him. He hated that feeling of being rejected. It was heartless, how people turned him down with such ease and looked the other way if another human ever struck him. And that... that had happened a few times, as well.

Grell felt as though he were falling, faster than he could handle, to the point where he felt sick to his stomach. Spinning to the point of intense vertigo, writhing about in darkness as he reached for the light. Was the light even there? What if he was just reaching for an illusion? It didn't matter, really. If the false comfort of an illusion would be enough to keep Grell going, then he'd grab it just for that. Anything - anything at all - but to suffer through the pain of knowing that society was against his very existence.

Sometimes, they would give him this look... and Grell had long learned its meaning.

'Why were you born?'

That was the expression the redhead truly disdained. It told him that since the death of his parents, there was no one in town who could love him. The eyes immobilized his heart and frosted it over with ice - oh, how it burned so fiercely cold inside him and bit at his heartstrings. The crease of the eyebrows fenced him in, trapping his lungs so that he coudn't breath, making him suffer as he was strangled. Suffocated by that horrid expression. Then, worst of all, was the downward curve of the lips, the frown of contempt, similar to the blade of a sword. A sword so cold and unfeeling that it pierced Grell at his core - right through his very soul.

It was indescribably painful, and Grell wished with every essence of his mind and body that one day it would be brought to an end.

Life would bounce between forgiving and unfeeling at the drop of a pin, and it hadn't been easy to adapt to.

Meirin was one of his closest high school friends. She was kind, very humble, and Grell would always be the one to give her advice on fashion, romantics, and even help in her art class. He was the one who finally convinced her to take off her round, silly-looking glasses - yes, Grell was the one to reveal just how pretty Meirin was beneath them. His assistance was most appreciated, but as her popularity in school soared, she began to forget about her dear friend, even if unintentionally. Students loved how she looked, how she acted, and her boyfriend, Grell knew, loved her very much. But one day, after graduation, she just stopped seeing the redhead. He'd struggle to reach her, through text, e-mail, even in person, but he could never manage to do so, for nearly four years.

And just two days ago, he'd seen this e-mail...

'From: Meirin.

'To: Grell.

'I'm sorry it's been so long, Grell. Bardroy and I have gotten married, and things have just been really busy. But he's working during the day now, so I was wondering if we could go out for lunch tomorrow at Pluto's? Around 12:15 pm?'

It wasn't that Grell didn't want to go. He loved that humble little cafe, and the owner was about as friendly as a human could be (as a matter of fact, a few times, Grell had actually wondered if the owner was part dog, he was so nice). There was nothing wrong with the time, either. He was... free a lot, lately. The problem was... he'd been fired from that very cafe just three days prior. The customers didn't appreciate his affectionate, flirty personality. The owner, who was nicknamed Pluto, didn't mind it at all, but since he was starting to lose business, he didn't have much choice...

And so, Grell decided not to respond to the message.

Truth stood, and leapt out of Grell's lap, before going to her water dish a small distance away, and Grell gave a small sigh, putting his legs up on the couch and lying down on it. He was emotionally exhausted after going out and running some errands, getting all of those snide remarks and sour faces as he moved through the public. He'd been dressed in his favorite red shirt, with the blood red rose on the front, and a pair of black pants, with red and black heels. He wouldn't have it any other way - not after what his parents had pounded into his head from birth:

'Always be yourself.'

Of course, it was hard. With everyone always looking at him like he was a mangy, flea-bitten mutt of a dog that had crawled out from the storm drain, he wanted to lie to the world and call himself a man. If that would get him respect, if that would make people look his way, if that would give him love, if that would give him a job - who was he to refuse those perks? Nothing but a poor, lost child, clinging to the affectionate words of their parents. But there were things he couldn't hide, either. His long, red hair was something he treasured, and he just loved so much to wear makeup. Without it, he didn't feel right, and he would try to cover his face. And he loved wearing women's clothes, skirts, dresses, and the like. They were simply... more comfortable to him than other clothes. The heels helped him feel taller - because he was embarassingly short without them. With his heels, he was a somewhat satisfying 175 centimeters (5'9").

There were things like that that he just didn't want to let go of... and... what would he do if a woman fell for him?

It had happened before, and it had been one of the hardest experiences in Grell's book. He had accepted her - this Hannah Annafellows woman - because his parents had been really excited for him, but he was reluctant from the get-go, and this girl was... well... not the nicest. She'd kind of beaten him around, so to speak, and been a bit insensitive. Eventually, Grell told her that he just couldn't do it, which had resulted in a pretty painful breakup on his side. He prayed his next relationship would be more emotion-based... much less abusive, and, if at all possible, with a male.

As of right now, Grell had two close friends.

Alan Humphries was a friendly youth, just turned twenty one a few months ago. He had short, brown hair with straight bangs swept over his face, and he wore thin glasses. He was kind and polite, often knowing just what to say - even though he did have a strong voice, and could certainly use it when someone got on his nerves. Emotionally, he was strong, but physically, he was a bit delicate; because of this, those close to him knew better than to be rough or at all not gentle. He was affectionate (although, not nearly as much as Grell), if somewhat meloncholy at times.

Eric Slingby was a slightly older male, only months older than Grell, with about half of his hair dyed blond and swept to one side, the other half his natural brown and tied into cornrows. The glasses he wore were tinted blue. He was rough-edged with words, often rather verbally abusive, but cared for his friends and didn't hesitate to show that.

Alan and Eric had been Grell's friends for a while, but even they hadn't been in contact lately.

They had jobs.

The young male sighed, walking into the kitchen. It wasn't like they were avoiding him, so he didn't take it personally. He knew that the few friends he had cared for him... even if they thought he was a little... off.

Truth circled his ankles as Grell got out some leftover chicken from the previous night. Giving a small smile, Grell fed his cat a piece of it.

Even if it meant getting accepted by society, he refused to change. Even if it meant getting respect, he wouldn't lie to himself or anyone else. Even if it cost him a job, he would be the flamboyant, feminine male that he was naturally. Even if his entire life crumbled because of it, he would be himself. No matter what it cost him... no matter what he could be gaining...

Never would he change, because he wanted to make his parents proud.

That night, Grell changed into a red nightgown, and lied down in bed. Truth leapt up beside him, and curled up in the crook of his neck, making the redhead smile faintly. At least someone appreciated his femininity. With that thought, the young male drifted off into sleep...

'Grell... Grell, dear, wake up...'

That voice... that beautiful voice... Grell knew immediately that the gentle voice was that of his mother. He opened his eyes and sat upright, giving a weak, bitter smile when he saw his parents before him. It was this dream again. He'd had it so many times that he could no longer pretend that it was reality. Besides... that would only make it more painful.

'Oh, Grell, we've missed you,' his father said. Grell always had to appreciate his father's red hair. How on earth did that man make himself look so masculine with it.

'I've missed you both as well, mother, father,' the young man heard himself answer. 'It's been too long.'

'Join us, Grell,' his mother said. 'Come stay with us.' As always, Grell subconciously tried to move towards them, but he found himself unable to. He was fixed to the ground, unable to take a single step. 'What's the matter, darling, come to us!' his mother cried, holding her arms open.

'I'm sorry... I can't...,' Grell whispered. 'It's not my time.'

'Grell...'

'Don't worry, dear,' Grell's father told his mother. 'He'll join us when he's ready. We need to wait for him... it's no good taking him before the time is right.'

'You're right, honey,' his mother sighed, sadness in her eyes. 'We'll be waiting for you, Grell.'

'Don't go...,' Grell murmured, his voice weak.

Sometimes, he wondered if he should go to them. He couldn't help but ponder what would happen if he did. Would he die in his sleep? Would he pass calmly and peacefully to the world where they were? Would he truly be reunited with his parents, or would he have a painful revelation that he was still alone? Some nights, he fought hard to join them, while others (such as this), he simply waited for the painful dream to come to an end.

Suddenly, a tickling sensation broke out over his cheeks, and he groaned, opening his emerald eyes to see his cat licking at his face. "Cut it out, Truth, he sighed, pushing her away gently. As he sat up, he realized just why the white feline had been lapping at his cheeks, and he sighed, before burying his face in his hands.

He'd woken up crying again.

-End Chapter.

Author's Notes: Phoenix here~ Hello, everyone~ Welcome to Everlasting Wishes, a plot I've been working on since perhaps chapter 3 of CFDR! Crazy, huh? XD Well, this story will be broken into three arcs, and this first arc we shall be calling 'Grell's Crush.' Each arc is ten chapters long. Do the math. ;P

I didn't quite meet the goal of 3,500 words I had set for this chapter, unfortunately, but some reviews would certainly push me to meet the goal for the next chapter! ;D