Warnings: Substance abuse, sexual activity between minors, and swearing.
Author's Note: A new project I've started. A schedule has been set up with myself and I plan to update every Sunday. Hopefully, by having this schedule, I will be able to stay on top of this while staying on top of my college work. I hope you enjoy this.
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Blaine Anderson lived a normal life with his normal family in his normal upscale apartment on the Upper East Side. He went to school every day with the same textbooks as the day before, the same breakfast digesting within his body, and the same higher-class mentality. The driver would drop him off at the esteemed Dalton Academy for Boys at promptly 7:45 AM, and pick him up at 3:00 PM on the dot. Homework was completed with his three sisters at the ornate dining room table as Wilma, the housemaid, fluttered in and out of the room offering snacks and assistance. Then it was off to fencing lessons, violin lessons, and French lessons. A call from mother and father from whichever exotic city they were visiting followed. Dinner with the three sisters after the call, in which it was time for socializing between the four siblings. The eldest, Mary, spoke of her chemistry exam, Blaine spoke of his fencing lessons, the third youngest, Charlotte, spoke of the new words she learned in her vocabulary studies, and the youngest, Georgiana, sat in silence listening to her older brother and sisters.
Every day the same within the Anderson house. Everyone reveled in the normalcy of it all. It's simplicity mind numbing. This is how the Anderson children grew up and learned to live. They were never to question and never to disobey. Being the estranged children they were, this was no difficult task. Everything, in their eyes, was perfect.
And then Blaine Anderson became bored.
The streets outside his bedroom window vibrated with the lives of New Yorkers all rushing round because they were all eternally busy. Bright yellow taxis flew by on the inky black streets, horns blaring and head lights gleaming. The murmurings of a few of the people below slipped in through the slight cracks within the bedroom walls.
"Why do you suppose we never go out?"
Mary looked up from her novel with a surprised look. As a way of spending quality time together, for it was Mary's last year before she was to attend NYU in the fall, Blaine's eldest sister had been spending her evenings reading in her brother's room. They never spoke to each other, only acknowledged that the other was in the room.
"What do you mean?" She asked, placing the book on the side table next to the large leather chair she was currently occupying.
Blaine continued to stare out of the window. A woman was standing below the window with her cellphone pressed slightly against her ear. Nothing coming out of her mouth was decipherable, but Blaine continued to watch her anyway.
"We stay indoors at night. Most people go out. Why don't we ever go out?" Blaine inquired, turning to face his sister.
She gave him a scrutinizing look, as if she were trying to read Blaine's thoughts. With a shake of her head, Mary reopened her book and sighed.
"Because we're not allowed."
Three nights after the incident of Blaine speaking during his quality time with Mary, he spoke again. This time, at dinner.
"I would like to propose something."
Each sibling froze for a half second, but then continued on as if Blaine had never even spoken. Georgiana looked at each of her sisters' faces and then at Blaine.
"You're going to propose?" Georgiana asked.
"An idea," Blaine clarified.
Finally, Mary took her napkin from her lap, daintily wiped the corners of her mouth, and turned to face Blaine. One of her neatly trimmed eyebrows rose as she waited for him to speak.
"I think we should go out tonight. A night out on the town."
Charlotte nearly choked on her soup.
"You cannot be serious, Blaine," Mary whispered.
"I'm completely serious. We do the same things every day. The last time we left this home for any other purpose besides lessons and school was when mother and father took us to dinner for their last night. Even then, all we saw was the inside of the car and the restaurant. I'm bored, Mary," Blaine slumped down in his chair for emphasis.
Mary's face looked nothing short of appalled, and, since she wants nothing more than to be like her sister, Charlotte's followed suit. The silence within the dining area was thick and made it hard for Blaine to breathe properly. Georgiana couldn't keep her eyes still on just one of her old siblings and kept shifting from one to the other to the other and back again. Mary cleared her throat and turned back to her meal. Like a domino effect, soon Charlotte went back to eating, as did Georgiana. Even Blaine followed. It was as if the outburst had never even happened. The only evidence was Mary's following statement of a firm and resounding, "No."
That night, Blaine sat by his window long after Mary had left his room for the night. Once again, he watched the people laugh and talk and live. Their vibrancy and freedom only served to make Blaine's boredom heighten. He looked around his room at his books and the items he had collected throughout the years that make up his room. Nothing interested him anymore. Nothing seemed to be enough. While Mary assured him it would pass, just as hers did when she was sixteen, Blaine couldn't handle it. He wanted out and he wanted out now.
Without realizing it, Blaine had dozed off with his head pressed against the cool glass. He would have most likely had stayed there all night if it had not been for the softs taps against the glass that were continuously beating against his window. Blaine's eyes were blurry with sleep when he attempted to open them. He blinked rapidly and wiped the thin line of saliva at the corner of his mouth.
The streets outside the window were especially dark when he refocused his gaze. Most of the city had gone to bed.
Save for one apparently.
Blaine sat up straight and pressed his face and hands against the glass, peering down eagerly into the street. Directly below his gaze was a boy. His skin, like pearl and ocean's spray, seemed to glow in the fluorescent lights above him. The hair on his head was messy, like it had not been properly combed, but glittered whenever it caught the light. From his view from above, Blaine could see his clothes were worn in, covered in small holes and smudges of dirt. All light greens and bright, bright blues. The smirk on his face made Blaine's insides churn pleasantly.
But what shook Blaine the most were this mystery boy's eyes: full of youth that only a child would have.
When he went to open his window, the boy raised his hand, bent his fingers slightly, and ran off down the street.