AN: This is mostly written for a friend but I decided to post it up on here for kicks and giggles. It's not the best thing ever, I didn't have anyone beta-read for me, but please don't hesitate to make HELPFUL comments:)
I manipulated a lot of the plot (sorry for those like me who are super picky about sticking to the story) to make my life easier. Erik's in modern day, less awesome Coney Island. Other than that, pretty much everything's the same. I haven't decided how much I'm going to involve the other characters but they'll probably all make an appearance.
I'd like to point out that this is slash fiction and mature, so although there's not a lot going on now, safe to say there will be.
Please R&R:) ~ IR
I really hate vacations with my family. It's not that I have a big problem with them, we're just really different. They're all very…normal. I mean, that's the only way I can describe them. They're just very average, nothing strange about them. Which is exactly why I don't fit in with them. I'm just a little…off. I have never been quite like everyone else. And I would like to stress this point again, they're not bad people. But their ideas of fun and mine are two totally different things. So needless to say when they pick a family vacation spot I'm bound to be disappointed.
This year wasn't looking to be much different. We were going to New York this year, which sounded good at first. And then I discovered that we were going to a bunch of tourist traps. Nothing even worth mentioning. How could you come to such an amazing city and not immerse yourself in everything it had to offer? Like Broadway? Oh, how I wanted to go see a show on Broadway. It would have made my trip! But of course, instead, we're going to some stupid murder mystery theater that no one's ever even heard of. I was totally born into the wrong family.
My mother turned to look at me over her shoulder as she was driving. "Seth, we're almost to the hotel. Could you wake Ellie?" she said, talking about my little sister who was currently fast asleep in a car seat next to me.
"Are you going to bother to wake Dad?"
"Well…" she looked at my father, also passed out, and pursed her lips, "You know how cranky he is when he wakes up. I'll just wait until we get there." I shrugged, gently rubbing my sister's hand trying to wake her up. She wrinkled her nose a moment before opening her eyes, and then looked around.
"Are we there yet Seth?" she whined, fidgeting in her seat. Ellie, Elizabeth, wasn't terribly patient. But she was only seven, so we didn't really blame her for it. She was just one of those obnoxiously hyperactive children, so sitting in the car while we drove all the way to New York from Florida. Oh, the excitement.
"No, but we're really close." I said, giving her a soft smile. I had a soft spot for her, even though she was a totally brat. I tickled her feet a little, rewarded with a little giggle, and pointed outside. "See the big buildings outside? Aren't they just like the ones on the postcard we saw?" She followed my finger, pressing her face against the window, and gasped.
"Wow! Those are really, really big!" Now that Ellie was sufficiently distracted, I looked back out my window and watched the people go about their business. We'd been in the car since way before the crack of dawn, so we got here a little before five. That also meant I'd spent the car ride with a small, wired child and my two bickering parents. I was about ready to pull my hair out.
The only saving grace is that I could take a walk when we got to the hotel. We were staying near the remnants of Coney Island, far enough away from the big city for my mother to let me go out by myself. I mean, that and I was eighteen. When push came to shove I could leave if I wanted to. This was the last family vacation I had to suffer through, so she probably wouldn't make my life too difficult. And she probably wouldn't want to unpack the car until after Ellie had gotten a snack, so if I left to explore when we got there I could get out of carrying suitcases in as a bonus.
The last few minutes of the car ride felt like an eternity. When we pulled into the parking lot, I nearly leaped out of the car. I helped Ellie out as quick as I could, hurrying my parents as quickly as I could. As soon as we got up to our room I got my mom's attention.
"Could I take a walk to the beach? I want to stretch my legs out." I asked. She looked at her watch and then out the window.
"I suppose. But be careful and don't get lost, please. Have your phone?"
"Don't I always?" I asked, already walking out the door.
"Yeah, yeah. See you later, hun." I gave her a small wave goodbye as I shut the door.
Ah, finally, some freedom. I quickly escaped from the hotel and finally made it onto the streets. Unfortunately we were way closer to Coney Island than the Big Apple, but it was still better than helping them unpack everything out of our car.
I roamed the streets for about ten minutes before I came upon a small music store. It had a beautiful piano sitting in the window, along with a couple violins and a viola. But the piano caught my attention immediately. It was a dark, rich brown and the wood's finish glimmered in the store's lights. It looked old, but only in the way that it looked like it had…history. My fingers practically ached to touch the keys. I had a keyboard at home, but it couldn't compare to the piano. The streetlights above me cast my reflection onto the window, next to the piano. I had pulled my honey-blonde hair into a ponytail and out of my eyes and wore a comfortable black sweater with a pair of old, faded jeans.
That was another big difference between me and my family. I was surprisingly musical since I was very young. My mother was practically tone deaf, and my father…well, we just won't talk about how badly he sings in the shower. Ellie was really too young to tell, but it seemed that she too got the mystery musical gene. But, when you get a gift you don't really question where it came from. You just thank God – or Allah, Yaweh, whichever you like- that you got it, right?
As I peeled myself away from the window I saw a man sitting on a bench not too far from me. He was hunched over and had his head in his hands. He looked well, rather pathetic. His dark shadowy hair hung over his face and a long black trench coat concealed most of his body. He just seemed rather…peculiar, almost mysterious. Then I heard it, a soft sobbing sound. And I realized it was coming from him. He was crying. It was weird, that's the only way I can describe it. I felt guilty all of the sudden. I mean, I'm sort of a softie for just about any underdog and this guy definitely looked like he fit that category, but he was a complete stranger. Whatever he was going through was not my problem.
My eyes caught a little ice cream stand. And then I had an idea. I quickly ran over and bought a small chocolate ice cream sundae. I took two spoons from the vendor and walked back over to the bench. I hesitated, unsure of just how to present my gift to him. I settled for plopping down next to him and placing the sundae in his lap. He slowly looked up at me and my eyes met his. I instantly felt his sadness, it was painfully clear in his coal-black eyes. Half of his face was still concealed by a dark shadow, but overall his face didn't look quite…right. I offered him a small smile.
"We can share, if you'd like." He looked at me silently, then back to the sundae. He gently took a spoon from my hand and took a bite of the chocolate drenched ice cream. I smiled a little brighter and took a bite from the sundae too.
"So, what's your name?" I asked, staring at my new acquaintance. He was sitting up straight now, all that chocolate must have done the trick, and the other side of his face was visible. It looked like he wore a covering over that side of his face, a sort of modern mask. I suppose it was like a cosmetic prosthesis. It just added to the really weird vibes I was getting from him.
"Erik. And your name would be?" he asked softly. For a moment I was unable to speak. The sound of his voice completely contradicted the way he looked. It was deep and sounded melodic, like he was singing. It was beautiful.
"Seth." I said, "My name's Seth." He nodded, acknowledging me, and continued to eat his sundae. But his eyes continued to stare at me. It should have unnerved me, but it didn't. "So, why are you sitting on this bench all alone?" I asked. His answer caught me off guard.
"I could ask you the same thing." I smirked, laughing softly.
"I just wanted to get away for a bit." He nodded, taking another bite.
"I felt the same way."
"What were you getting away from?" I said, almost only to continue to hear him speak. There was something about Erik's voice that sounded different from anything I'd ever heard.
"I can't escape it." He spat, his voice turning cold and bitter. I was quiet for a moment, thinking to myself.
"Maybe you're not supposed to escape it. Maybe you should try confronting it." I suggested. He stopped eating and chewed at his lip for a while anxiously.
"I can't do that either."
"Well, what is it? I don't understand."
"You couldn't possibly understand. You'd be disgusted if I showed you." He murmured quietly.
"No I won't."
"Yes you will! You don't know what you're talking about!" he snapped, Erik's voice suddenly rising. Although I felt frightened from the sudden, bizarre change of mood, I continued to speak calmly to him.
"You'll never know unless you try."
"I have tried!"
"Not with me." I said firmly. Erik looked at me, clearly deliberating whether or not he was going to show me whatever it was. Suddenly he took me by the wrist and dragged me away from the bench and into a dark alley. I started to protest.
"Hey! That hurts you know! Where are we-"
"Quiet!" he whispered as he continued on into the alley. When we had reached beyond the sight or earshot of the crowd, which was frightening enough, he whispered something that really put me on edge.
"Please, don't scream." I stood there, frozen in fear. What was he going to show me? A decapitated head? Was he going to hurt me? Erik's hands went up to the mask over his face and slowly pealed it off. What he revealed horrified me. His face looked like it had been dipped in acid and the bone structure was painfully visible. His eye was sunken in and slightly different color than the other. His skin looked like wax paper spread over something that was too large. It was so revolting I wanted to puke. But I didn't. And I kept my face neutral, hiding my distress behind a mask of my own.
Yes, it was revolting. Did that make Erik inhuman? No. The deformity wasn't something I was willing to use to judge someone. Especially when I didn't even know him. Plenty of people who were beyond gorgeous were devious and two-faced. As the saying goes, you can't judge a book by its cover. And I had the strangest feeling about him, that there was something underneath his face that made up for everything on his exterior.
"So, that's it?" Erik's face twisted in confusion, expecting more of a reaction. I did my best not to look away from his distorted face. I wanted to show him the respect he deserved.
"You are not afraid?" Erik asked, taking a step closer to me, the streetlamp bringing his face into more light.
"Why should I be?" I took a step towards him, refusing to let my senseless fear get the best of me.
"I am…repulsive."
"You have a deformity, there's no denying that. But that doesn't mean I should be afraid of you. I have no reason to be."
"You're lying."
"I'm not. If I was afraid I would have left by now, wouldn't I?" He stared at me in disbelief, unwilling to admit defeat. But after a few seconds, he conceded.
"Yes, I suppose you would have."
"Now, tell me, has someone run before?" I saw the sorrow return to his eyes and he looked away from me. Right on the mark.
"Yes. They saw what a monster I was."
"Or maybe they couldn't see the real you, underneath it all."
"Darkness and misery is what they saw, and that's all there is." He said, looking back at me again. Erik was right. I saw it too. The strange, wicked things that slithered beneath the surface. But they were only frightening if you didn't take the time to try and appreciate them.
"Darkness isn't bad, it's just different. It can be beautiful too, if you understand it." I replied. His face contorted itself in confusion again.
"And you think you can?"
"I think I can, yeah." I believed what I said. Not only did I feel like I could understand it, but it seemed to draw me in. Like a moth to a flame.
"You don't know me."
"And you don't know me." We stood there in silence, simply staring at each other. Yes, Erik was frightening. But like the dark, only if you didn't understand. And I thought that, even with our brief acquaintanceship, I could understand Erik. And I felt, unlike my family, he could probably understand me too.
"You're too beautiful to understand something so warped." He said, and I felt the tell-tale warmth in my cheeks that told me I was blushing.
"I can take anything you can dish out."
"Is that so?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"Yeah, it is." I said, refusing to let him win.
"You're not going to back down, are you?" Erik asked, somewhat amused.
"Nope. Not a chance. You might as well close up shop now." I replied smugly. He looked at me skeptically, about to open his mouth to say something when my phone went off. I jumped, forgetting that it had been in my pocket the entire time.
"Mom? What is it?"
"Listen, it's getting dark. And I need your help quieting Ellie down." She said, "You know she barely listens to anyone but you."
"Oh, alright. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Okay, hun. Be safe." She said, hanging up. I put my phone back in my pocket and looked back at Erik.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it that far I just…forgot myself." He apologized, putting his hands into his coat pockets.
"It's alright. It's no big deal." I whispered, more for my benefit than his. "I've got to go, someone needs me." I continued, still reeling from the kiss.
"Will I be able to see you again?" he asked nervously.
"Sure, I suppose that would be fine. Do you want my phone number?" I asked but he shook his head.
"I don't use my phone." Erik murmured, "Do you think you could meet me somewhere tomorrow evening?"
"Yeah, I think so. Where did you want to meet?"
"A place called Phantasma. Do you think you could find it?"
"I'll try."
"I will meet you at the gate. It was a pleasure meeting you, Seth."
"You too, Erik." I said, smiling softly. He smiled back at me, which made my stomach do a little flip. Despite his face, it was good to see him smile. I wasn't sure if I was going to go to the Phantasma place or not, or if I could even get away from my family. But I wanted to, which freaked me out enough.