Since this fic is complete, I don't feel like waiting too long in between chapters, so here's chapter two!
I hope you enjoy it! :)
Chris' first day in San Francisco was spent doing touristy things such as driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, taking snap shots of Alcatraz, and riding in a cable car. He had a good time away from the stress of home, but throughout the day, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. He walked down the streets, admiring the rainbow banners and friendly strangers passing him by, but whenever he saw something that interested him, he stopped in his tracks and felt empty. He didn't have anyone to experience the city with. Chris didn't think it would matter once he was there because he'd grown up by himself. He never had anyone to talk to or share his opinions with, but for some reason he found himself wishing he did.
After an exhausting day, he curled up in the hotel's bed and pulled the covers up around him. He felt warmer there, safer than when he was at home, but the second he closed his eyes images of men running towards him filled his mind. The amount of alcohol they had consumed slurred their words and it made their hatred towards him escalate.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut and thought about the events of the day in an attempt to forget about everyone who had ever hurt him, but it didn't work. Not for the first time in his life, he'd laid in bed for three hours before giving up on sleep altogether. He knew he needed to sleep because he'd been awake driving the night before, but there wasn't anything he could do to force his mind to calm down.
Well, there was one thing.
Chris hopped out of bed and quickly changed back into a pair of jeans and tennis shoes. He grabbed his keys and cell phone from the night stand and hurried out the door.
It only took Chris a few blocks to realize there wasn't anything open past 1:00 in the morning either, at least not in the part of the city he had resided. More than likely, there were a few bars and a twenty-four hour Wal-Mart in a different part of the city, but the streets around him were peaceful.
Chris walked the ten blocks in silence and subconsciously kept an eye out for anyone who might appear near him. But no one did. By the time he reached the familiar music shop, he hadn't seen more than a stray cat and a little, black bird.
Chris found what he was looking for sitting in a chair in the back corner with a guitar situated on his lap, but this time he allowed himself to stare in awe at the man. He noticed Darren's toned chest and arms—the way his t-shirt fell just right over his muscles—and Chris took some more time to admire his hair. It was funny, really, because he'd never been attracted to guys with darker hair, and curls weren't something he found particularly appealing. However, on Darren, he thought they were perfect.
Chris continued watching for a few minutes as Darren strummed at his guitar, singing something that Chris couldn't quite make out through the glass window separating them. He found himself wondering what Darren's voice sounded like and if it was just as beautiful as the man it was coming from. He figured it was because everything about Darren seemed beautiful.
After spending what he considered to be a minute too long looking at Darren, he quietly knocked on the door, just loud enough to spark Darren's attention and tear him away from the guitar.
Darren's face lit up and he practically ran to the door, fumbling with the lock a bit before getting it open and allowing Chris inside.
"Hi," Darren said, and Chris realized he was breathless—from singing or something else he wasn't sure.
"Hi," Chris replied with a smile and looked away. "I-I couldn't sleep and I figured you might be here."
"Here I am. I started writing a new song tonight and I was just working one of the verses." Darren walked back to the corner and Chris followed close behind.
"Can I listen?" Chris inquired.
Darren hesitated before shaking his head. "Not yet. I want it to be complete before you hear it."
"What if I'm gone before you're finished," Chris asked, and he immediately regretted it. Darren's face fell and he felt some kind of mutual disappointment between the two of them. Chris didn't want to think about leaving San Francisco; not when he was with Darren. He'd only known the man for about nineteen hours, but Chris was already dreading the day he'd have to say goodbye.
"You won't be. I'll make sure of it." Darren placed his guitar in its case and closed the lid. "So, why couldn't you sleep?"
Chris shifted nervously in place and fumbled around in his head for anything that might sound convincing. Anything but the truth. "I don't know. It must have been the coffee I drank a few hours ago."
Darren stood back up and placed his guitar case behind the counter. "That would do it. Are you hungry?"
"Is that your go-to icebreaker?" Chris chuckled.
"No, but I thought if I can't sleep and you can't sleep, we may as well make something of tonight, right? I know this great place just around the corner if you'd like to accompany me."
Chris searched his pockets. "I didn't bring any money or any-"
"You don't need money. I promise." Darren reached for Chris' hand, and the impact it had on his nerves hadn't decreased any from this morning.
Chris allowed Darren to lead him out of the shop, pausing as he locked the door behind him, but not letting go of his hand. Chris was staring to get the feeling that Darren was a very hands-on guy and liked to feel a physical connection with those around him. He was straight, after-all, so the contact couldn't have meant anything more.
"I hope you like cookies and hot cocoa because that's about all this place has."
Chris felt Darren squeezed his hand but imagined it was just a reflex from Darren's bubbly personality.
They reached a little store, much like the music shop, but the atmosphere didn't seem quite as calming. Darren opened the door for Chris and followed him inside.
Chris realized they were in some kind of costume shop, but it was much different from anything he'd ever seen. There were racks and racks of strange costumes, masks hanging all around the place, and even more costumes hanging from the ceiling. He could barely see three feet in front of him before he was forced to look around the corner.
Darren pulled him along, weaving his way through the racks and gruesome accessories until they reached a door at the back of the shop. He knocked on the door, still not letting Chris' hand go.
"Eugene?" he called out. "Eugene, it's Darren. Open up."
A few seconds later, the door opened up and an older man with dark hair and blue streaks appeared in the doorway. He instantly pulled Darren into a hug which Darren gladly returned.
"Eugene, this is my friend, Chris," he said once they pulled apart.
Chris stepped forward, making a mental note to think about being called a friend later.
"Hello there, kid." Eugene stuck out his hand.
Chris felt like the entire situation was a little bizarre, and maybe Darren really was setting him up after all. Darren might not have been as harmless as Chris had originally believed, and he soon found himself wondering if he shouldn't have stayed in his hotel room and dealt with his fear-induced insomnia by himself.
"Hi," Chris cautiously shook his hand.
"I've known Eugene since I was about seven. He was the one who put together all of my Halloween costumes when I was growing up, and he's fucking amazing if I may say so myself."
"R-really?" Chris tried to steady his voice but his nerves were getting the better of him.
"Come on back." Eugene stepped aside and made his way back into what Chris realized was some kind of private room, much like a den of some sort. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"I promised Chris some cocoa if you wouldn't mind."
"Coming right up." Eugene disappeared through another door and Darren turned to Chris.
"Relax, okay? He's harmless. This guy is like another grandpa to me."
Chris didn't have to force a smile onto his face. Darren just did that to him.
Chris stepped deeper into the room and took a seat next to Darren on the black, leather couch against the wall. It may not have been what he had been expecting when he left his room earlier that night, but with Darren by his side, their hands still intertwined, he had a feeling the night would exceed his expectations.
XXX
"This guy does a fantastic job with these costumes." Chris sat cross-legged on Darren's bed looking through an old photo album while Darren dug around in his closet for a movie to watch.
By the time they left Eugene's, the time was approaching 4:00, but neither one of them were tired. Chris was pumped full of rich hot cocoa and triple chocolate cookies, and his mind wouldn't even slow down for a few seconds. He was practically bouncing up and down as he looked at the pictures of Darren's various Halloween costumes through the years.
"Told you," Darren smirked and crawled out of his closet with a movie in hand as he shoved everything back inside and squeezed the door shut. "He's worked on set for a couple different movies, and I think he might be going to LA in a few months for another one. His costumes are one-of-a-kind."
"And he lives in the shop?" Chris questioned.
Darren nodded. "There's a little office area above the store that he's turned into his apartment. It's not much, but after his wife died, it's all he needed." Darren popped the DVD into his DVD Player and made his way over to the bed. He took his spot next to Chris against the headboard and pointed to one of the pictures while waiting for the menu screen to appear.
"This one was one of my favorites." The picture was slightly faded and held down by two pieces of tape on the corners, but the costume Darren was wearing in the photograph almost looked professional. "That was when I was twelve. I went through a major Batman phase, and all I wanted that year was to be the joker. I didn't want to paint my face and leave it at that, though. I told my mom I would look like a clown. So Eugene did everything he could to find the perfect pieces, and he did my make-up. I looked scarred and everything. I owed him so fucking much that year. I even won the local costume contest."
"And now you're close to him?"
Darren shrugged. "He and I have one thing in common. We both have insomnia, only his is diagnosed. Once I started going to the shop every night, I would get hungry and end up going home. One Winter night he saw me and asked me if I'd like to come inside out of the cold. So I did, and he made me hot cocoa and handed me a few cookies and that's how this entire thing started. I stop by almost every night."
Chris hummed in acknowledgment and Darren turned his attention to the TV as the menu for August Rush appeared. He kept the volume down because his parents were now home and allowed himself to relax next to Chris. Chris, however, couldn't let himself relax. He was too busy staring at Darren's profile and trying not to get caught.
Chris nearly jumped when Darren reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Thanks for watching this movie with me, by the way."
"I'm happy to have someone to watch it with."
Darren smiled brightly, gave Chris' hand one more squeeze, and watched the opening credits of the movie.
XXX
When Chris woke up the following morning, he was in an unfamiliar room and a heavy object was draped over his stomach. It only took matter of seconds before he realized it was only Darren's arm holding him close and the other man's unruly curls which were in his face. Chris tried to ease himself out of Darren's grasp before he woke up, but Chris' struggle only made Darren hold on tighter.
Less than a minute later Darren cracked one eye open, squinting from the light coming through the window, and smiled at Chris. A few seconds later reality hit, and he jerked away.
"Shit. I'm sorry, Chris. I-I didn't mean to. I've been known to cuddle." He looked away, embarrassed.
"I-it's okay. I didn't mean to fall asleep last night. I'm sorry." Chris sat up and looked around for a clock, but soon realized there wasn't one in sight. He figured Darren wasn't the type to care about punctuality anyway. "What time is it?"
Darren rolled over and pulled his phone off of the nightstand. "11:25."
"I slept in that late?" Chris was astounded. He'd never been able to sleep past 9:30 before. Staying up all night must have had its side effects.
Darren nodded. "You hungry? I can get my mom to make us some lunch."
Chris' eyes filled with panic. "Shit. I forgot about them. I-I'll just go. I'll sneak out. They won't even know this happened, I promise."
Chris started to slide off of the bed, but Darren grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. "Chris, it's okay. She won't care." Chris relaxed and Darren let him go. "Would it make you feel better if I let her know you're here before you come down and meet her?"
"Please," Chris pleaded.
"Okay. I'll be right back." Darren shuffled out of his room and down the stairs, following the scent of bacon coming from the kitchen.
He greeted his mom with a kiss on the cheek and stood on the other side of the counter. Chuck was sitting in a chair at the dining room table eating a sandwich and mumbled something under his breath when Darren walked in.
"What are you even doing here?" Darren asked, and even though he meant it as a rhetorical question, he was greeted with a response.
"New York got boring, so I came home for a few days." Chuck shoved the sandwich in his mouth and took another bite. Darren turned away before he could be any more disgusted.
"Hey, Mom," Darren began. He wasn't sure how to continue. He knew Cerina wouldn't mind that Chris had stayed over, but he still felt awkward bringing it up. "Um, I have someone in y room."
Cerina looked up from the tomato she was slicing. "Did they stay the night?"
"Yeah." Darren didn't realize he was gripping the counter so hard his knuckles were turning white until he felt them begin to go numb. He let go of the counter and shook out his hands, realizing he was more nervous than he had thought. "We were out really late and by the time we made it back home we were too exhausted to move. We fell asleep during our movie."
Chuck stood up from the table and took a can of coke from the fridge. "Yeah? What's her name? Is she hot?"
"His name's Chris." Darren looked from Chuck to his mom, finally noticing the small smile playing on her lips.
"Well, bring him down. There's no need to hide out up there. I hope he's hungry for BLTs."
"Thanks, Mom." Darren leaned in with a gigantic grin and kissed her cheek again. "I'll be right back."
Cerina watched him go, unsure if she'd ever seen her son look the way he did whenever he was talking about Chris.
XXX
Chris was still sitting at the head of Darren's bed when he saw the older boy stumble back through the doorway.
"My mom is making lunch and wants to know if you'd like to go eat." Darren perched himself on the foot of the bed. When Chris didn't say anything, Darren moved a little closer and took his hand, but Chris yanked it back. "What's wrong?"
"I don't do this. I don't meet new people. They never like me or give me a chance. They take one look at me and categorize me under this little gay column and decide I have some kind of contagious disease." Chris wrapped his arms around himself, stared out of Darren's bedroom window, and continued counting the number of red cars that drove by. It gave his mind something to do.
Darren attempted to hold Chris' hand again because it was the only thing he could think to do to comfort the younger boy. "I like you, Chris, and I think I'm taking the time to get to know you before forming any kind of opinion. So you're gay. That doesn't even cross my mind when I'm with you.
"People are different here, Chris. There are judgmental bastards everywhere, but San Francisco isn't like that, and my family sure as hell isn't. If you will trust me and look at me, I'll promise you one thing."
Chris took a few seconds to let what Darren was saying sink in and slowly turned his head to face him. "What is that?" he whispered.
Darren looked into his eyes and Chris saw more sincerity in them than he'd ever imagined he could see in someone. "I promise I won't let anyone hurt you while you're here." When Chris opened his mouth to protest, Darren held up a hand and continued. "I know you haven't said much about wherever you're from, but I have a feeling you came here for more than a vacation. I want you to find whatever you came here for, and I'll be here to help. In the meantime, my mom would really like to meet the guy who stayed the night with her son because she has this pathological need to feed everyone who steps foot inside of her house, and I guarantee she'll love you. So will you please come downstairs with me?"
Chris took a deep breath before nodding his head. Darren smiled and pulled him off of the bed before leading him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Darren still hadn't let go of his hand, and although the small action confused Chris, Darren's firm grasp felt too amazing to let go. Chris knew this gesture was just one of the things that made Darren who he was, and further convinced Chris that his theory about Darren needing to be physically connected with everyone, was true.
"Mom, this is Chris. Chris, this is my mom, Cerina." Darren nudged Chris further into the kitchen.
"Hi, ma'am. It's nice to meet you." Chris held out his hand, but Cerina's loving arms were soon wrapped around him instead.
"It's nice to meet you, Chris. Help yourself to anything you see here." She moved out of the way and Chris followed Darren to the kitchen island. He was weary to get too far away from Darren. Darren seemed to keep him at ease and he was strangely more comfortable around the man he'd just met the previous morning than he had been around his former classmates whom he had known for years.
"Do you have any plans for today? One of my friends wanted to go on a group date and we're one guy short. Can I tell the lucky remaining lady that you're her date?"
Darren turned to where Chuck was still sitting at the kitchen table; the only difference was the new sandwich sitting in front of him. "No thanks. I think I'll pass today."
"Okay, but tomorrow's the Fourth of July and I'm sure they would love to at least have you at the barbeque. We always have fun doing crazy shit over there."
Chris sat down next to Darren at the table and stayed silent as Darren spoke with his brother.
"I actually have plans for tomorrow," Darren turned him down again.
Cerina stepped up to the table with a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies. "Chris, sweetie, what are you doing to celebrate tomorrow?"
"Oh, I actually don-"
"He's coming with me, Mom," Darren cut him off.
Chris quickly turned his head to the other side. "What?" he asked, a little breathless.
"Only if you want to, of course."
"I do," Chris smiled. He was curious to see what Darren had planned for the following night.
Chuck eyed Darren suspiciously and looked over to Chris and back. "Darren, you could have just told me you were planning on asking Chris out on a da-"
Darren cut Chuck off with a playful slap to the back of his head. The two immediately started wrestling around, only stopping when Cerina made them separate.
Chris sat back and watched Darren interact with his family. As much as he loved his own family, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was still missing from his life. Little did he know that it was in that very room.
XXX
Once he was finished eating, Chris tried to help Cerina with the dishes, but she refused. After shooing him out of the kitchen with Darren following close behind, they made their way back up to Darren's room.
"See. Was that so bad?" Darren joked.
Chris made his way to Darren's bed and sat down on the end as Darren closed the door behind them. "Your mom is really nice."
Darren moved to sit beside Chris and turned his body to face him. "She loved you, you know. I mean, she loves everyone, but I can tell who in particular becomes an instant favorite. You, Chris, are her new favorite."
Chris brushed it off and shook his head. "You're crazy. She doesn't even know me."
"Why does that matter to you so much? Why can't you accept that people may like you exactly the way you are?"
"You don't know what high school was like for me," Chris muttered and looked away.
"Well," Darren shifted a little closer, "tell me. What shit did you go through to make you so unconvinced that I like you just the way you are? Just like this. Everything you seem to dislike about yourself. Gay, shy, and utterly adorable. When you let your personality come out, that's when you come out. Don't be afraid to show others that side."
"The vulnerable side? There's a good reason the wall between those two sides isn't able to be budged."
"And why is that?"
Chris wanted to tell Darren the truth. He even thought talking about it might make it seem like he could finally be free of it all, but something inside of him was telling him to wait. Despite how comfortable he felt around Darren, they had just met, and Chris couldn't do that to him. It wasn't right to unload that much onto someone who was helping him out. "I can't talk about it," he said instead. "Not yet. I'm not ready."
"Okay," Darren comforted. "I'm not going to push you, but I'm here if you need me." He stood up in front of Chris. "I'm going to take a shower. Would you like to use the bathroom across the hall?"
"Oh, no. I thought I would just take a shower back at the hotel later. I don't want to intrude anym-"
"Chris, you aren't intruding!" Darren interrupted with a playful grin.
"I'd still feel better knowing someone was getting paid to clean up after me. I need to go pay for another night anyway."
"Oh, so you're staying there again?"
"I need a place to sleep, Darren. I know you may not, but some of us do."
"I know, I just thought you might have changed your mind and wanted to stay here after all."
Chris hesitated. "Darren, I-"
"Look, you don't have to, but I can even make you up a spot on the couch so you don't have to accidentally fall asleep," he used air quotes around the latter three words, "in my bed again."
Chris slapped him in the arm and Darren feigned pain. Neither one of them could contain the grins that lit up their faces. "You know I would never have slept up here intentionally."
"No? Am I really that bad?"
Chris shook his head. "No, you aren't." A silence hung in the air for a few seconds before Chris continued. His whisper was quiet, but it sounded like a rocket taking off in the already silent room. "You're a confusing mystery to me."
Darren didn't say anything at first. He stood still next to his bed, keeping his distance and letting Chris say what he needed to say.
"I… you do things that no one else has ever imagined doing to me and with me. Back home, I don't have friends, and I certainly don't have a friend who is so comfortable with physical contact that they hold their friend's hands."
"We're friends?" Darren asked with a bit of hopefulness in his voice and his eyebrows raised.
Color rose to Chris' cheeks. "I didn't mean that. It was just a way to-"
"Chris," Darren said firmly to calm the other boy down before he could get too worked up. "We're friends." He took a breath in an attempt to steady his quickly-beating heart and took Chris' hand in his. "And about holding your hand. That's no-"
Darren's voice was interrupted by a light knock on the door. "Darren, would you mind running out to get me some pepperoni? I'm making a couple pizzas tonight." Cerina cracked the door open. She didn't miss her son's hand wrapped around Chris', but made a point not to make it obvious.
"Sure, Mom. We'll go in a few minutes."
"Thank you. Chris, you're welcome to stay for dinner. We'll have plenty and you can meet Darren's dad."
Chris looked to Darren and saw him nod before answering. "That sounds nice. Thank you," he smiled back.
"Well, don't stay out too long. I want to get this in the oven." Cerina turned around and left, gently easing the door shut behind her.
"Come on," Darren tugged on Chris' hand. I know just the place to take you."
XXX
Chris was pulled into a little deli shop not too far away from Darren's house. It was a cramped little space which didn't seem to have much of an organization system, and the items in stock were constantly rotating in and out. He noticed shelves of fresh bread and homemade jam and made a mental note to come back and buy a jar for his mom before he left San Francisco.
Darren knew his way around the disorganized mess pretty well, which didn't surprise Chris much. Darren had probably been going to the deli for years. Chris was quickly beginning to realize that most of Darren's favorite things about the city were unorganized and unstructured. That thought would have scared him a few days ago, but now… now he was starting to take to the chaos surrounding him. It was something new, something carefree, and something he would always associate with the curly-haired man standing beside him.
Darren turned to him after grabbing a couple oranges from a bowl near the counter. "Is there anything you'd like?" he asked.
Chris shook his head. "It's fine. I can come back later."
"Chris, what do you want?"
"Nothing. I've got plenty of time before I leave."
Darren began walking around the store, grabbing random items and tossing them in a wicker basket he'd picked up near the door.
"Darren, what are you doing?" Chris grabbed his wrist when he tried to pick up a bag of homemade trail mix.
"We aren't leaving the store until I know we have what you want," Darren said firmly and dropped the bag into the basket.
Chris crossed his arms and looked at Darren for a few seconds, clearly judging him, before sighing. Darren was nothing if not stubborn, Chris was quickly learning, and he didn't want to be stuck with food he wouldn't eat. "I was going to get a jar of jam to take home to my mom."
Darren looked pleased. "Thank you." He placed the items he'd taken back on the shelves in their respective locations and led Chris to the jams. "Which kind did you want?"
Chris studied the labels before pointing to a sugar-free black raspberry. Darren picked it up and handed it to Chris before walking to the counter.
"Harold?" Darren called out, leaning over the counter to peek into the storage room.
A few seconds later a middle-aged man walked out wearing a green apron and wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Darren. What can I get for you today?"
Chris wasn't surprised that Darren had made a friend there as well. Darren was friendlier that anyone he had ever met. Chris would be shocked if someone actually disliked Darren.
"Mom wants some pepperoni."
"A pound like usual?" Harold pulled a bag out from underneath the counter and began filling it with sliced pepperoni.
"Yes, please." Darren pulled his wallet out and began laying some cash on the counter. Chris set the jam on the counter and began to do the same, but Darren shoved it away. "Put that away."
"But the jam-"
"Is on me," Darren finished for him. He turned his attention back to Harold and grabbed the bag of pepperoni. "I'd also like two root beer floats, please. Make one of them the glass mug." Darren set the jam, pepperoni, and oranges inside a paper bag.
"Two root beer floats." Harold set the cups on the counter and Darren exchanged them for the cash in his hand. He handed the mug to Chris—Chris noticed the deli's logo, the golden gate bridge, and the words "San Francisco" written on the side—and took his change from Harold.
"Well, take a sip," Darren encouraged. They made their way out of the shop and the little bell above the door rang when it was opened. Chris smiled at how cliché the little shop seemed, but at the same time, it held a certain uniqueness that he adored.
He lifted the mug to his lips and took a drink of the root beer. "Oh my god, this is amazing."
Darren chuckled and finally took a drink of his own. "He makes everything on his own, Harold. Some of his things can be a bit pricy, but you won't find anything close to the quality of what you will find in that store."
"You really didn't have to get this. Either of these." Chris nodded towards the bag Darren was holding.
"Hey, we're running errands for my mom. It's the least I could do." They continued walking down the street, sipping their drinks, and blending in with those around them.
"I like going with you, though. This is nothing like what I expected my trip to San Francisco to be."
"Is it still good?" Darren questioned.
Chris smiled and subconsciously leaned into Darren, their shoulders brushing lightly and their hands linking together. "It's better."
XXX
"Darren, we've been gone for over an hour. Your mom is going to kill us."
"Relax. She'll have plenty of time to make the pizza. I want to take you somewhere first, and we're almost there." After a few more steps, Darren halted and Chris nearly ran into him.
They turned away from the street and that's when Chris saw the San Francisco sunlight dancing around on the mosaic stairs in front of him. He'd seen pictures before, but nothing had done them justice. Seeing the vibrant colors in person was astounding.
"This," Darren set the paper bag down, took a step forward, and hopped onto the first step," is one of my favorite places in the city." He jogged up the steps, stopping about a third of the way up. Chris was still standing on the sidewalk at the bottom of the stairs looking up at Darren. "What do you see here, Chris?"
Chris didn't know where he was going with this, but gave in to Darren's games and answered the best he could. "Mosaic stairs?" His answer came out as a question.
"More than that. Are they monochromatic, do you see three or four colors, or a fucking rainbow?" Darren sat down on one of the stairs and brushed a few leaves aside.
Chris chuckled up at Darren and answered, "A fucking rainbow."
"That's it!" Darren exclaimed. "Okay, now tell me. Is each step the same? Do you see the same thing each step of the way?"
Chris sighed and relaxed against the railing. "No."
"Good. You're doing well." Darren stood back up and walked down a few steps. "Now are the mosaic tiles each a perfect little geometric shape or do they take on a more organic form?"
Chris inspected the first few steps a little closer even though he already knew the answer. "I'd say they're very much organic." He stepped back and stared up at Darren. "What are you getting at here?"
Darren stepped back down in front of Chris and took his hands. "Each of these steps… they're different. No two steps are alike. No two tiles are alike. They each take on a different form, a different color, a different purpose. They're a tiny portion of the bigger picture, and without one of them, the scene would be incomplete.
"Chris, you may have had a hard life back at home with people who treated you like you were nothing, but no two cities are the same. While that city may have been a dark, midnight blue to you, San Francisco can be a bright yellow. Those people may have been a dark cloud pinning you down, but that doesn't mean other people are going to be the same way. Everyone is different. The people you see here in San Francisco, the ones I'm showing you, even me… hell, especially me… we aren't going to be that for you. You can't convince yourself that everyone was created in a perfect little mold, all a single shade with a single purpose. Each step of your life is going to be different from the past, just like each of these steps are unique in their own way. However, they come together to form a beautiful picture."
Chris stayed silent and Darren turned his head towards the stairs. "I want you to look over there. I want you to think about each of these pieces. Think about where they came from, what they went through. What were they before they were mosaic tiles? No matter how much they went through, good or bad, they ended up here. They ended up being a part of something beautiful, something that brings joy and wonder to hundreds of people."
When Darren squeezed his hands, Chris looked away from the stairs and into Darren's eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you're powerless or that your life isn't going anywhere, Chris. I don't want you to keep to yourself and not let others see what I see, because you're going to go off and do fucking amazing things in this world. You're going to end up bringing so much happiness into someone's life by being yourself. I can't tell you what to do, but I know what I see in you, and I love every part of it. I know you're going to go home and feel like you can't get away. You may feel trapped inside the confines of whatever city it is you live in, but you won't be there forever. One day," Darren turned back to the stairs and let go of Chris' left hand, "you're going to shine as bright as these stairs and you're going to be even more beautiful than you already are."
Chris stood beside Darren and stared at the mosaic tiles in front of him, but he couldn't focus on their color or the individual pieces or the larger picture they created. Instead, he thought about Darren's words. No one had ever said anything as meaningful to him, not even his parents. For the first time, he felt like someone really saw deep inside of him, and the confidence Darren had in him made his heart swell and his stomach clench.
Before giving it a second though, he wrapped his arms tightly around Darren's waist and buried his face into Darren's curls. "Thank you, Dare," he whispered. He eyes were filled with unshed tears, but he wasn't scared to let them fall. And that's exactly what he did.
Darren held him close, not caring about the groceries he had, his mom waiting back home, the sun beating down on them, or the people occasionally walking by. All he cared about in that moment was the boy in his arms.
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