A/N: I honestly don't know where this story came from, I just feel a little down this evening and whipped up a sad A/U of teenage Grell (And I also didn't want to do English research :P). This may be my first truly sad/angst-fic so critiques are welcome.
The night was a calming type of warm with a small breeze, the sun lowered enough for night to overtake the sunset, and the only light truly illuminating the park were in the form of old fashioned street lamps set across the stone pathway. As usual, no one was in the park by this time, everyone was inside, preparing a meal or watching a movie, reading a book or working perhaps?
Of course, all of those people had someone to be with during these moments.
Grell allowed his open palm to softly brush the small tulip bed as he rounded a corner of the path, his other hand in his overcoat pocket. The redhead always zoning out every time he came to this area of the park. He'd shut his eyes and imagine the tulips brush on his hand to be another hand holding his; a colleagues or maybe even a loved ones. But it became a rule, almost a law to never lay a hand on the "poison of society" as he was most recently called. Still, doesn't beat the numerous other names he's been called, so there was that at least.
Grell always wondered if people stared at him walking alone on this same trail nearly every evening, silently judging him from there houses. "A good student doesn't waste his time outside on nights where work or training could be completed." "No self respecting man would ever let emotions cripple them so much." "Goes to show what freaks 'traps' are." Grell could think of what each comment could be so easily with such predictability, but even they were repeated to the point of being stale to others, they still hurt him.
He shook his head, trying to stop his mind from wandering into beating up his own rock bottom self-esteem. Lifting his glasses, Grell rubbed his upper nose and tried to drift his mind to other subjects. Normally on nights like these he found solace in music, but since the young man doesn't own an mp3 player (a combination of parents who love his "normal" siblings more and the fact that no one wants to give the town freak a job), Grell resorted to humming and softly singing songs he memorized.
Cutting to the right on the fork in the path, Grell began to hum a soft piano melody he heard online at school, and wished for the music to forever grace his ears. It was happy and sad, beautiful and horrible, emotional and empty, all at the same time. "It's a deadly good song" he thought to himself.
As he hummed on, his eyes shut and he allowed his mind to drift to a world of calm and serenity, of a red blanket laid out in a field of red roses, with ladybugs fluttering by as the sunset cascaded a rainbow of warmth on the sky. There he'd be sipping red wine and simply watching the sky.
The humming grew louder as now his legs began swaying in step with the soothing rhythm, Grell's cheeks burned pink as he then imagined company there with him.
William.
He saw him there, with the same neat black suit he always wore, only this time with a red rose in his upper coat pocket. He imagined him staring into the redheads eyes and slowly caressing his cheeks and playing with his long flowing her hair before slowly moving down to take note of his lovely red gown, with sparkling rubies embroidered throughout the silk like fabric.
The skip like movements became a one man ballroom dance as Grell began to spin around to the music, his blush intensifying and his smile revealing the sharp pairs of shark like teeth he had. Grell even began letting out euphoric "ah's" and "ha-ha's" between hums. To have this moment, even in imagination was orgasmic to Grell, it's all he ever wanted, and could only be perfected by a single, specific line from Will.
"Your such a beautiful young lady, Grell."
And suddenly, Grell stopped. He stopped humming, stopped twirling, and opened his eyes. He reminded himself of his situation, of where he was and what he was. He was a being with imaginary hopes stuck in grim reality. The reality where the perfect landscape of red roses would never be found, where he'd never find a peaceful place from the world, where Will would rather die than even pretend to like him, and the world where he'd never be a she, like Grell always wished.
Reality was where Grell would stay; the world where no one wanted him, and where his inner self would never come out. The redhead fell to his knees and began to sob on the ground, fogging up his glasses and drenching his face.
This was his reality: pain, suffering, and emptiness all because of thoughts he couldn't control.
"Welcome to Reality." Grell sobbed as he curled into a ball on the stone path and let his tears fall freely.
A/N: Poor Grell. I didn't realize just how sad I made this (worst part is this is giving me ideas for a bigger High School based Shinigami Dispatch story haha). I might do some more Black Butler stuff when I finish my latest big KI story, but until then,
Gotta Fly!