June 1985

"Mr. Ortiz, you do understand that your friend, Mr. Dae is dead, correct?" The lady in the chair asked Lance. He moved his arms around a little as he nodded.

"Of course, I do. He was a very important person to me. I'm honouring him by not moping around." Lance replied. His brain had been in disarray for weeks now, but he would never let something that serious slip.

"Well, he committed suicide the same night you got in that car accident. We want you to tell us about him. As much as you can remember." She said.

"Oh, I can remember so much about Keith. It's funny how I forget so much, but I remember so much about him." Lance muttered, laughing just a little.

And, thus, he started.

"We met during second grade."

-000-

January 1958

Lance rolled his pencil over his desk, short legs kicking under the table. His Mamá always dropped him off so early. She and Papá had to go to work. He wished she would have stayed a little longer, like the other parents had, but she worked for this nice family up in the fancy part of town. She had to get there very early, so she couldn't. She gave Lance a kiss on the cheek and left. She had to take the bus, so Lance watched out the window as she sat on the bench, reading a magazine.

At some point after his Mamá left, other kids started showing up. They just kept flooding in and never stopping. Some kids had to share desks, but no one wanted to share with Lance. His Mamá said it was because he was so special that they felt small, but Lance was sure it was because he wasn't a white boy. He was a Spanish boy instead.

School was about to start when a teenage boy ran in with a smaller boy.

"Sorry we're late, ma'am. He's here. He can introduce himself, I have to get to school." The boy said, running off. The teacher gave him a mean look as he sped off and looked the small boy up and down.

"Well, aren't you going to take a seat?" She said. She seemed clipped, but she knew she had to be nice after the school got desegregated. Lance couldn't see the boy's face, but he could see the teacher's. She looked stiff and uncomfortable.

Lance understood why once the boy turned to try and find a place to sit. He was obviously Asian. Lance didn't know where he was from, but he wasn't white. Kids looked away from him and said they didn't have any space. Lance was the last one he walked up to, as he was the last one in class.

"You're my last shot. Can I sit by you, or can't I?" The boy said. Lance noticed how he had a thick southern accent as he moved over to let the boy sit down. "What's your name?"

"I'm Lance. Lance Ortiz. What about you?" Lance replied.

"Keith Dae. I have my Mama's last name." The boy, Keith, said. Then, he turned to the teacher. She seemed pleased that Keith had sat in the back as she smoothed her dress and began class.

Lance found that Keith was a very smart one. He didn't raise his hand, but as Lance was looking over at his slate, he saw that every answer had been correct. Lance didn't understand things like English that well, but he wasn't bad at Math and Science. Still, Keith put him to shame.

When recess let out, Lance was so used to staying inside. The other children didn't like it when he went outside, and they'd take all the swings and wouldn't let him play. Today, Keith dragged him out. It was Lance's first time since he was in kindergarten that someone wanted to play with him.

"I wanna play a game with you. It's called Shadow Tag. You gotta try and catch my shadow with your feet and then I gotta catch yours." Keith explained. "It's noon, so it's gonna be real hard."

"Okay." Lance mumbled. Keith counted to three and began running across the pavement. Lance chased after him, trying to stamp his feet on Keith's pesky little shadow. It wasn't fair that Keith was shorter than Lance was, but he wasn't going to complain. He got Keith's shadow after a few minutes of running.

"Now I gotta catch your shadow." He huffed. "So start runnin'."

And Lance did. He started sprinting with Keith hot on his tail. He was only a few inches away from catching Lance's shadow when he fell over. He scraped his legs up badly, and the other kids were laughing at him.

"What're you laughin' at?" He yelled, but that just made the other kids laugh louder. Lance felt bad, but he was scared of these kids. He'd been beaten up by them on multiple occasions.

"You can't run on those skinny little legs. You look like a chicken." One of them, a boy named Adrien, said. Keith let out a small growl before standing up.

"Chickens can run real fast. My aunt has some. I've tried to catch 'em, but they're quick. My cousin says I'm near about as fast as they are." Keith retorted.

"Chickens are what I eat for dinner. You want to be next?" Adrien grumbled. Keith stood his ground, however, looking back at the other with an equally vicious look.

And then the brawl started. It was a blur of Keith with his bloody knees and Adrien with his cooked collar. The teacher had to come break them apart, but was obviously more concerned with Adrien. Then, most likely to save face, she guided Keith to the nurse to get his knees cleaned up. She came back, dusting her hands off on each other.

Lance met back up with Keith after school.

"Hey, can I walk with you?" He questioned.

"Where do you live?" Keith asked.

"I live on the south side of Tampa. What about you?" Lance answered. He shifted his books around in his pack.

"I live down the west side. My Aunt Aya has got a nice little backyard with flowerbeds and an old tire swing from when my cousin was little. She raises her chickens out there." Keith said. Lance was stunned.

"You walk that far? That's all the way on the other side!" He exclaimed.

"Well, in the mornin' my cousin's supposed to drive me in his car. He got one off of the neighbour. He treats it like it's his baby." Keith said. "But, I like cars, too, so I can't say too much. It's a 1940 Plymouth."

Lance didn't know much about cars. He liked planes much more. He wanted to be pilot when he got older and fly way up high where even the birds didn't go. He wanted to go over the clouds. His Mamá said he might even find God.

"I like planes. My older brother, Hector, flies planes. He has this one plane called a P-51 Mustang. He got it painted blue because that's my favourite colour. He calls it the 'Azul Cielo'." Lance said.

"What's that mean?"

"It means Blue Heaven. He flies it everywhere and sometimes he drives me out to the airfield so I can come watch him fly." He smiled broadly.

They quickly reached Lance's house, where Keith said goodbye.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? It'd be a shame not to see you again." He said. Lance nodded. Keith waved and started running off down the street. Lance wondered how fast those chickens were if Keith wasn't quite as fast as they are, because he sped down like he was an Olympic runner.

"Mamá! Volví!" Lance called. He was met by his sister, Camilla. She was wearing a nice dress and was halfway through putting some earrings in her ears. She looked very grown up that way.

"Hello, Lance. Did you have a good day at school?" She asked, pacing the floor.

"Yes. I made a new friend. His name is Keith and he talks funny. The teacher doesn't like him because he's Asian." Lance replied. "He likes cars and taught me how to play Shadow Tag."

"How does he talk funny?" Camilla furthered the conversation as she straightened her dress in a mirror.

"He says things like 'near about' and 'ain't' a lot." He answered her.

"That's just his way of talking. There's no reason to call it funny." She chided him.

"What are you getting all dressed up for?" Lance asked. She was wearing her favourite purple dress with a white collar and the fancy back pumps Mamá had gotten her for special occasions. She also had some makeup on, which she definitely ransacked from Mamá.

"It's a secret. Anton will be home with Axel and Victoria soon. Can you stay here until then and not destroy the house. I'll buy you some candy while I'm out." Camilla said. Lance nodded, going off to settle on the couch as his sister gathered up her purse and left. They didn't have a TV since it was too much money, but they had a radio. That's how they got their news.

Lance was always one to have to be forced to do homework. He wasn't going to do it until Anton shoved him a chair and made him do it. He'd much rather work on painting his model plane he got for his birthday. It wasn't shaped the same way, but he was trying to paint it like the Azul Cielo. That way, Lance would have his own plane.

Anton showed up halfway through the point where Lance was painting the white lines on the wings. He was shoved by his brother in order to get his attention, which ruined the line. Lance fumed.

"Anton, look what you made me do!" He whined. He had worked so hard on getting his plane perfect. "The line is all messed up."

"Just paint blue over it. You have to do your homework anyways." Anton argued, setting Lance's reading and math books in front of him.

"But it won't be the same! The white will seep through the blue and look strange. You know how strong our white paint is." Lance huffed.

"Get over it and do your homework." Anton said, grabbing the model from Lance's hands and taking it away. Lance chased after him and watched in horror as the plane was put into the cupboard and while the door shut over it. Lance stuck his tongue out, hitting Anton's leg, before stalking back over to the table and opening his books. He heard Anton sigh in annoyance before he pulled out his own books and starting on his homework.

After Lance finally finished, he looked over at Anton expectantly.

"What?"

"Get my plane out of the cupboard." Lance ordered. His brother rolled his eyes and went over, getting the toy out. Lance took it with a mean look at his brother. He went to the bedroom he shared with both of his brothers and Hector when he was staying with them. It was cramped, with three small beds pushed against the wall. There were clothes everywhere and baseball bats leaning on the wall. The ceiling next to the window (where Lance insisted he had to have his bed) had other models hanging from the ceiling with old hanger wires.

Lance set the plane on his bed, then going back down to get the jars of paint from the table. He took them up to his room, trying to avoid Anton, who would get angry if he found a single drop of paint on his things. Lance figured it had something to do with being older. Anton said it was because they weren't going to be able to afford anything else. Lance didn't believe him. Mamá and Papá always said they would make sure they could get what they needed and if Anton needed a new shirt, Lance was sure they could get it. They would just have to give up a few food items is all. It wouldn't be the first time.

Lance went to work on repainting his plane. He was still fuming about the fact that Anton had messed up his work. It looked very nice, too. He took the blue paint, lathering it onto the white line he had already made. He inwardly cringed at the way the white showed through. He started adding more layers. Soon, he had very little blue paint left, so he started with the white line. He was very steady as he pulled the paintbrush across the wings of the toy. He smiled in satisfaction when they line looked smooth and straight. He set the model on the windowsill of his window. He would paint the propellers red when it was dried.

Mamá and Papá arrived home during the night, even after Camilla got home. She got him the candy, as promised. She was his favourite sibling after Hector. Mamá and Papá didn't even ask why she was dressed so nicely.

"Lance, mijo, how was your day?" Mamá asked, pulling out a cigarette from her purse and lighting it by an open window.

"It was good. There's a new boy in my class named Keith. We it next to each other and I think we're friends." Lance said, going to sit on a chair next to his mother. Papá was busy with something else, muttering some curses under his breath. He was looking at some papers. Lance was never allowed to know what was on those papers and why Papá hated them so much.

"Well, what is Keith like?" Mamá asked with a smile. She put out her cigarette and pulled Lance into her lap. He was always light enough for her to do that.

"He says a lot of strange stuff like 'or can't I' and 'ain't'. No one here really says that stuff." He said. "He likes cars and lives on a farm with his aunt and cousin. There might be more, I don't know."

"He sounds nice. I'm glad you're making friends." Mamá gave Lance a kiss on the head.

Lance was sent off at some point to allow Mamá to make dinner. She considered making Lance's favourite, Arroz con Pollo, in celebration of Lance making his first friend, but his father intensely protested, saying they should save it for a more important occasion, like Lance's birthday, which would be there until late April.

Lance went off to the living room after his parents started getting into another dispute, arguing rapidly with each other. He hated it when they did that, but he knew deep down that they loved each other. They were just temperamental people. Lance and his siblings often made them mad with their bickering, but they just had to be good for a few hours to reverse the damage. They'd made Lance cry a few times, but it was okay. They never meant it and would always come apologise eventually.

Lance wondered what Keith's family was like.

Hello there! This is my first VLD fanfic so I truly hope it is up to par. As the summary states, this story will contain some pretty heavy topics, like child sexual abuse, racism, homophobia and sex (and no, I will not get into detail on the sex. I am not comfortable publishing such content), so if any of that makes you uncomfortable, DO NOT CONTINUE. I will NOT be discontinuing or censoring my story as I have given thorough warning.

Anyways, I have already set out the chapters' bones, but they will still need to be fleshed out, so bear with me if I take a little long at times. I will try to keep up a weekly upload rate, as I usually do with Talisman, but there's always bumps in the road, so bear with me!

Thanks for reading and I hope you stick around! Feedback is always appreciated!

-MidnightQuestant