"You should cut your hair!"
"What's wrong with my hair?"
Scott kept bothering him with the idea of cutting them for days. And right now Darling was standing with him in the living room while he had his hands covered in rubber gloves and scrubbing the many side tables and chairs.
"It's too long," Scott said, smiling to himself and not looking up.
"You think?" Darling stroked through it with one hand, watching Scott doing his cleaning.
His hair had always been a little tangled and it had gotten longer during the past two weeks. Now it was almost curly he had to admit, but it was hardly leaving his neck still. Scott kept complaining about it though. Basically because the muddled strands were casually falling in his face lately. He didn't mind though. In fact he kind of embraced a different look somehow. But actually he secretly admired their way to see things and all of them somehow had an eye for whatever looked good and what didn't even though they didn't quite knew how to use it for themselves.
He was sitting on a very old bench seat upholstered in red velvet. One of many old furniture in this strange house. Darling had long but gotten used to it though. Only sometimes one of them caught his eye still and he seriously started to wonder how they were able to afford all this. None of this house's residents would tell him really. But then again he didn't ever really ask about it. He'd just hoped someone would let slip that little information in their conversations. And yes, he did make more and more contact to them each day. And they seemed to enjoy his presence more and more. At first they came into his room every day for a few hours to keep him company. And by and by Darling opened up to them a little. His first impression hadn't been wrong though. They were a little crazy indeed. All of them. But they meant well and he really started to like the time he spent with them.
The next step had been leaving that damn room. He felt bored being in there. He got used to the view out of that window into the street very quickly and he had been wandering around his 'white cage' a thousand times over. First he'd sneaked out a couple of times during the day and just strolled around the house, trying hard to remember everything and finally find a way through it. His own little rebellion as he called it in his head. And what did this guy expect? That he stayed in there like a prisoner? No, he was way too well trained in breaking out of rules and people telling him what to do. But of course it didn't take too long and he got caught. Luckily it had been Kevin. The chubby man had simply smiled at him when he almost bumped into him in one of the corridors and had handed over a couple of fabric rolls he was carrying.
"You can help me," he'd said.
Darling had been spending that afternoon with him, handing him fabrics every now and then or sometimes only a safety pin or two. Kevin was sewing a lot. Or so it seemed. He'd shown him his atelier as he called it. A huge room near the attic which – oh surprise – had been painted white entirely. He kept a handful of mannequins in there and used them to create colorful and glittering clothes. He'd shown him his works too. Darling had been impressed. He'd never imagined someone doing this as a hobby, but then Kevin had told him it was his job to do it. And his talent for that matter. But even then he had failed to say a single word about what exactly he did for a living. If Darling had guessed though, he would have bet it had something to do with show business. Or burlesque shows.
After that one afternoon things got a little easier for him. Usually one of them waited outside his room or inconspicuously wandered past it and knocked twice whenever Roger had left the house or it was at least safe for him to come out. He didn't like him strolling around and he still was of the opinion if their guest stayed in bed it'd be safer for him. Which it probably was. But Roger's roommates seemed to understand the boredom Darling felt and helped him getting out every time.
This morning had been no exception. As soon as Roger left the house to go wherever he was going all day long the four of them stood at the end of that semi-circle stairs and smiled at each other.
"Come on out," Shirley had yelled up to him.
As soon as Darling peaked out of the room smiling at them, Brian had added:
"He's gone. Don't be shy. I guess he won't be back until midnight."
They all had run off to do their chores then. Darling had been walking around, talking a bit to everyone now and then and finally had sat down next to Scott in the huge living room.
"You need a little color in here," he said, dreamily staring into space.
"Color?" For once Scott looked up to him.
"Yes, just a few dots to loosen that white in white," Darling smiled at him. "It's a little depressing after a while."
Scott laughed.
"I'd say you need something to do," he grinned. "Sitting around all day long must bring a certain amount of boredom. Here..."
He threw a tea towel at him, which Darling caught with his left hand. He was getting better and better using it.
"Make yourself useful," he smiled. "You can easily wipe those shelves with just one arm."
Darling moaned and got up. That's not what he really meant, but he had to admit he kind of enjoyed it after a while. At least it was something he could do. He'd wondered of course why they did all that. After all it couldn't be hard for them to hire someone to keep the house clean. But then again, they were so afraid of someone might noticing. And certainly it was a problem in this part of the city.
Dully he wiped past a few porcelain vases and something that looked like silvery crystal decoration in the shapes of human bodies. Darling frowned slightly. Why would someone put that up? Not exactly beautiful. But then the engravings on bottom of those hideous things caught his attention.
'Roger DeBris' they all said. Some of them even had a year underneath the name.
Darling put aside that towel for a moment and took one of them. They were heavier than they looked to be honest. Turning them once or twice he sighed. There was nothing else.
"Be careful with them," he heard Scott speak and turned to look at him. "Roger surely would kill me if you break them."
Darling jeered.
"He disapproves of a lot of things, doesn't he?" he asked, putting that thing back where it belonged.
"Not really," Scott smiled at him and stepped closer. "It's just as though you're holding his life in your hands. And I guess no one would like to see that in shatters."
"His life?"
"They're awards," Scott nodded and pointed at the one he'd just had in his hands. "This one was his first. The very symbol for what he could achieve when he didn't believe in himself at all."
Darling looked at them once more. Awards for what? He couldn't think of anything that bad tempered man would earn something like that for. But of course they knew him better. Apart from their little talk in the kitchen they hadn't spoken one word to one another until now. And being honest to himself Darling didn't want to change that. Usually he hid from his eyes and even when he was in the kitchen in the evenings with Shirley or Brian, he always hurried a lot whenever he knew Roger was home. Once or twice he'd been passing the kitchen door, but he never said anything. At least not to him. And he usually wasn't alone. In fact there hadn't been one night he didn't bring anyone with him. Usually men he'd never seen before in that house and also he never saw them again. He'd witnessed the others every time. They kept their mouths shut about it, but sometimes Shirley would grin at one of them knowingly or Kevin would roll his eyes, whispering 'Not again'. Only once their eyes had met. Darling had stood right next to Kevin when Roger had walked past them and pushed Anonymous the Twentieth into another door. As hard as he'd tried, Darling hadn't been able to turn his gaze away. Roger had stopped though right in the door-frame as though he'd felt his eyes on him. He'd held his stare for a moment but his face had remained blank. And then he'd turned and followed that guy without a comment, closing that door behind him silently.
All in all Darling's impression of that guy hadn't changed much. This guy was grumpy and bossy and in a way so intimidating even his roommates seemed to do everything he wanted. What a jerk. Everyone who even thought of giving him an award must be as idiotic as Mr. Rich-And-Noble-But-Afraid-Of-Someone-Might-Notice-I'm-Gay as well.
"He's got you under his thumb completely, hasn't he?" Darling murmured, but only noticed he'd said it when Scott looked at him wide-eyed.
Darling's face flushed immediately.
"Sorry," he turned his head away, grabbing that towel once more and moving to the next shelve. "I didn't mean to insult you."
"You didn't," Scott replied. "But you don't know him the way we do. So it's a little unfair to say that."
"Well excuse me. All I see is you doing everything to make his life comfortable while he's screwing a new guy every night," Darling whirled around, his voice rising.
"You should talk to him and you'd understand," Scott replied calmly. He didn't move at all, just kept staring back at him.
"I won't," Darling answered and turned away, wiping the next shelve angrily.
"Don't be so stubborn," Scott said. "I'm pretty sure you'd get along well."
"He doesn't want me here," Darling replied silently. "He's shown it too well. And I think it's better not to get used to all this. After all I'll leave soon anyway."
He heard Scott laugh silently.
"You're not so different, you know? I mean Roger and you."
He focused on that shelve. Why did this make him so angry? Being compared to that guy shouldn't bother him at all, yet it did. He wasn't like that. What did they know anyway. All they knew about him contained two weeks and a few conversations. And it hadn't been his choice to be with them.
He kept on scrubbing harder trying to distract himself, but somehow the image of that man pulling just another guy behind him into the house made him sick. He was exactly that sort of homosexual who caused the bad reputation everywhere. But why did it cause such anger in him? He shouldn't care at all.
His thoughts were interrupted when he accidentally bumped a framed picture and teared it down. He was able to catch it by stemming his chest against it before it fell down to the ground though and quickly grabbed it, letting go of that towel.
Darling took it and slowly put it back in place. But he was bound to look at it closer and only then recognized the people on that very old looking photograph. And for a second he didn't quite believe his own eyes.
"I told you," Scott's voice reappeared behind him. He must have gotten closer to him now staring over his shoulder.
It was them. All of them. Much younger of course, but still there they were. In that picture. All of them smiling into the camera. Roger was in their midst and had his arms around their shoulders. They stood on something that looked like a stage. At least the little rest of a curtain that was to be seen indicated it.
"You see, we all wouldn't be here the way we are," Scott spoke again, watching his face change. "If it hadn't been for him."
"Well with that attitude for sure," Darling snorted and was about to turn again.
But Scott held him back this time. Whirling around once more Darling looked into his face once more which had changed to a more reproachful look.
"Hey, he's had to face a lot of shit himself," he said a bit sharper. "You're really not in the position to say anything against that."
"Why not?" Darling shook his hand away. "You forgot it was him dragging me here. But I am not exactly a case for this nuthouse. Whatever he did to you I bet it started with some little favor, hasn't it? After all that's all he does all day long."
"Listen you know nothing," Scott sounded angry now too. "No matter what you think you might have seen, you don't know half of it."
"Tell me then," Darling shouted back. "Isn't that how it works? Telling the inmate the whole story at a certain point? You can very well start now then."
"Inmate?"
Scott's anger vanished. He stepped back a little but his gaze never left Darling, who looked away quickly. He bit his lips knowing perfectly well he shouldn't have said that.
"Is that how you see yourself?" Scott asked a little taken aback.
"I'm sorry," Darling murmured.
"He took you in," Scott continued. "He took care of you when no one else did. And he still cares, even though he doesn't show it to you."
"I don't care what he does," Darling replied loudly. "He should have left me out there. I wasn't his problem."
"How can you say that?"
"Because that's how it was supposed to be," Darling answered now very quietly.
Scott watched him for a moment. He hadn't been wrong at all. The young man had been through a lot obviously. And maybe it really had been only his exhaustion that made him agree to come here in the first place. Roger had mentioned a feeling; something he hadn't been able to explain to him. And he knew for sure his friend never had been someone to abandon a boy like that. But still he had no idea what had driven those two together that day. Neither of them had spoken about it. But there was something about Darling he must admit. And he could tell Roger saw it too. After all Scott was quite certain the presence of their young guest was the very reason for Roger returning to his 'normal' life again. And even if that boy disagreed, it was good to see him out of that strange phase he'd been in lately.
"Don't you think it's time to tell us what happened?" Scott asked hesitantly. "No one gets wounds like yours just by walking the streets and to be honest we've been puzzling a lot about it."
Darling remained silent. He just shook his head hardly visible and closed his eyes. Scott could tell he was close to tears being reminded of whatever there was that kept torturing him.
"Do you even have anywhere to go at all?" he kept asking. "A family? Friends?...A partner?"
Darling teared open his eyes in shock hearing his words and whirled around. Scott backed away a little. He didn't intend to upset him like that, yet he could see that question aroused something that hadn't been there before.
But Darling's eyes simply kept on piercing him; fearful and frightened. Then, without any further words spoken he turned and ran up the stairs again.
Scott followed him slowly, but stopped in the door just looking after him. He closed his eyes then and smirked.
"Just what we'd expected," he thought.
….
"He hasn't come out yet?"
Shirley asked him during dinner. Scott had told them about Darling's reaction and apologized a hundred times over for seemingly having driven him away. Obviously something about his notion aroused some kind of rather dark memories in the young man. He'd locked himself into that room and hadn't replied to anything. Naturally Scott had tried to talk to him but darling had neither answered nor opened the door.
"I wonder what really happened," Brian said, looking at Shirley. "If he reacted like that it must have been worse than we expected."
"I'm pretty sure it's not at all," Scott answered sincerely.
"I agree," Kevin joined them. "He is no street-kid. Or haven't been for long. Have you ever seen them? He's not like that."
"Well, whatever it was make sure Roger doesn't find out about it," Shirley waved her ladle at them warningly. "If he finds out you've upset him we're done."
"If he finds out about that it'll be all our heads," Kevin replied to her casually, jeering slightly and shaking his head at her in disbelief. "He would find out we've let him get up and stroll around the house all day long."
"Right," Shirley agreed and lowered her arm again.
"Well and what now?" Brian asked. "We're starting from scratch again if he decides to remain silent."
"Maybe that's what he wants," Scott answered.
"Oh please," Shirley looked at him, rolling her eyes. "He's a child. He doesn't know what he wants."
"Now come on, he's not a child," Scott turned his head towards her, letting his hands fall on the table. "And we should stop treating him like one."
"He's right," Brian agreed. "He sure is younger than you or me but look at him. He must be in his mid-twenties. I don't know for sure but no...definitely not a child anymore."
"And he probably went through a lot," Kevin thought about it too. "I mean just remember the first day he came here. Did he say something about those injuries at all?"
All their eyes focused on Scott that very moment. But the tall man just shook his head.
"No, not a word," he answered. "But if you allow me to guess it's the oldest lesson in history..."
"History?" Shirley asked, raising her eyebrows. "What history?"
"Ours for example," Scott looked up at her and grinned slightly. "Yours and mine. And everyone else's."
"What do you mean?" Kevin asked; his eyes fixated on him.
"Darling's gay," Scott replied with a never known certainty. "And he probably got thrown out and got caught in the crossfire somewhere. Probably someone else noticed and disliked it. Easy as that."
"Do you really think that?" Brian interrupted him.
Scott simply nodded again. And then he got up and wandered through the kitchen, stopping at the huge window. He leaned to the wall and kept staring outside; his arms crossed in front of his body.
"You should have seen his eyes," he spoke very quiet now, just as though he feared someone who shouldn't might hear him. "When I asked him. So shocked. And so frightful. Believe me, this must be the reason why he agreed so quickly not to tell anyone what he saw here. He's one of us. It's not so hard to see if you look closely though. He tries to hide it, but every single one of his movements is a clue. I'm more surprised we didn't notice earlier."
The other three listened carefully. And as soon as Scott had mentioned his little theory they looked at each other again. He had a point. A good one too. Being quite frank the signs had been more than obvious. Darling had found out about them in a heart-beat. He had been the first to mention Christopher Street too; a place no one would think about if said person had no clue at all what happened there. And even though his arm was still bandaged and in a sling he'd always had a way in moving too lightly; nigh graceful. They often had compared it to dancing when they'd been talking about him.
So yes, it was quite possible. More a Probability for sure. And one look at one another was enough to know each of them was agreeing to that.
"So what do we do now?" Kevin asked after a while.
"'Bout what?" Scott turned his head to him again.
"Well, with us gone tonight and him locked in that room up there," Kevin spoke again. "Couldn't that cause, you know... some problems?"
"True," Shirley propped up her head with her hand, thinking about it.
"We'll have to tell him then," Brian said defiantly.
"But he'll..."
"Oh for heaven's sake," he got up rather quickly. "Even if he doesn't answer, he'll listen. And if you don't dare it, then I'm gonna do it."
He pushed his chair to the side and with large steps went out of the kitchen. The rest of them remained where they were baffled for a moment. But then they all got up as quickly as their feet carried them too and ran after him.
Arriving at the huge white door they all stopped though. Brian had his hand lifted but it held it in midair as well. Hesitantly he looked over his shoulder to his roommates.
They all stood very close to each other and reminded him for a moment of a legion of owls all looking at him with wide eyes which weren't blinking at all. But then Shirley gestured to him to go on.
Brian took a deep breath and much gentler than intended he knocked at the door.
"Darling?"
No answer. Of course not.
"Listen, uh...," he started slowly. "We won't be here this evening and we thought you might wanna know. You know. In case you thought about coming out again."
They waited for what seemed an eternity but no reaction followed. So their bodies relaxed a little and they all exhaled deeply. Just what they'd expected. Again. Brian turned to look at them once more, but as soon as he saw his friends shaking their head simultaneously he sighed too.
So, he turned and was about to leave with the others again, who turned on their heels and already tip-toed down two or three steps when suddenly the sound of an unlocking door made them freeze again.
The huge gate-like door opened and then the face of Darling appeared behind them again. He looked horrible. Paler than before and much sadder than before. He had his head lowered and looked at them from underneath the strands that till fell into his face.
"Hey honey," Kevin smiled at him and stepped a little closer again. "Are you okay?"
Darling nodded and looked as though nothing had happened at all. Maybe he just needed some time with himself to face his demons. They weren't sure though.
"Listen sweetheart, we're sorry for what happened," Scott said silently, rubbing his neck. "We didn't mean to upset you. And I surely didn't mean to rush you into anything."
"I know," Darling replied hoarsely, turning his head away giving the impression it still hurt him a lot.
So they hadn't been wrong. He was only putting on a show.
"You don't have to speak about it if you don't want to," Shirley agreed with Scott.
"Where are you going?" Darling asked shyly and turned to them again. He had a way in changing the topic each time.
The four of them looked at each other for a moment. There surely was no harm in telling him.
"We'll visit Christopher Street," Brian replied softly.
Just hearing the name of that street made Darling tense again. They could easily see it. His body stiffened again and even though he tried not to show it, a horrified spark was there in his eyes within a second.
"We'd ask you to come along, but...," Shirley started, but Darling quickly stepped back a little.
His hand wandered up his injured arm and he held it once more just as though the pure mention of that street brought back the pain he'd felt a few weeks ago. Quickly he shook his head though.
"No, don't worry about that," he tried to hide it behind a weak smile. "I'll get along. When will you be back?"
"Can't tell yet," Brian answered once more. "We just wanted to let you know. You might not want to stroll around tonight."
"And in case you're hungry," Kevin jumped in. "I'll bring you something up when we're leaving."
Darling looked at them still smiling, but they could tell he wasn't really fixating them. It was as though he saw right through them that moment. As if he was just listening without really getting what they said to him.
"It's alright," he said then and much to their surprise, his voice was almost gone. "See you tomorrow then."
"No trying to flee then?" Brian asked sincerely. All of them had that question in mind but only now someone dared to really speak it out loud.
Darling shook his head though.
"I promised not to," he replied. "And I won't break my word. You just have fun. I'll stay in there..."
Thus he turned again and vanished into that 'prison' as he obviously still saw the room as. The four friends shared confused looks once more. Was it too early? No, he said it didn't matter to him. And he didn't seem to mind at all. He even agreed on staying where he was. But his face. It spoke volumes. He didn't really seem to like Christopher Street at all. But they knew there was no chance in asking him why. This conversation was over. So they turned their backs on the door again and moved downstairs.
….
He sat on that bed just staring out of the window. While he kept the lights switched off he was perfectly able to see everything that was going on outside. And even though he only was able to see the facade of the house on the other side of the street it kind of soothed him. The windows there were brightly lit and from time to time he was able to sneak a peek at the people living there. A young couple, so it seemed. A young red-haired woman and a tall blonde handsome man. They were passing the windows from time to time and Darling enjoyed their presence somehow, even though he knew it wasn't really as though they noticed him in any way.
They sat on a gray comfortable looking couch right now, snuggled together underneath a brown fluffy blanket. She was reading in a book which lay in her lap while his head softly rested on her head. He wore a loving smile while stroking through her fiery hair gently, always pulling out one of her long strands. Sometimes she would look up to him or kiss him on the cheek. But every time they smiled at each other and then there always was that look in their eyes.
Darling knew that look. He'd known it himself. But it seemed so long ago. An eternity even. And in a way it made him always a little sentimental. Still he longed for nightfall each day to witness that little piece of familiar comfort which brought him a kind of warmth he couldn't explain himself. All he knew was he had been longing for exactly that kind of familiarity, or love or whatever you want to call it, himself.
But he was ripped out of his little daydream abruptly when he heard the sound of voices coming from downstairs. He lifted his head for a moment and listened carefully. It was them. They laughed and talked just the way they always did. Just as though he wasn't there. But then again, he couldn't even blame them. They had their lives. And they needed to live them. Just because everything he'd had and everything he'd known had been taken away from him didn't mean others should stop living as well. He knew that. And yet he felt like a stranger even more. This house and everything was so horribly unfamiliar. He wondered every day why he still woke up here and how on earth he came to be in that strange surrounding. What sadistic little twist of fate made up that path for him? Being here reminded him too much. Of everything that had happened and everything he'd lost. They were happy. And they surely deserved to be. But why did he have to witness it?
Darling snuggled closer to his knees and rested his head on them, watching the four friends leaving the house.
Christopher Street. Of course they had to go there. And why not? It was one of the few places they could be who they were. He knew. And as much as they tried to hide themselves out there, it was good not having to do it even if it was just for one night. They'd surely made bad experience as well. Scott even mentioned it. Roger sort f saved them.
Darling jeered slightly and closed his eyes. Yeah for sure. That person...
He must have screwed his way through the lot of them and then kept them there as his rightful housemaids.
But suddenly he teared his eyes wide open again. Again that guy crossed his mind. How curious. Why? He didn't care about him at all. They had only exchanged one look every since he had threatened him. Yet his mind constantly brought him back to this man. Why on earth did he agree to come with him? There had been nothing he'd said that had made Darling believe him.
But funny enough he seemed so much more friendly on that day. He remembered it clearly. Was that just a trick to get him here? What if he never would him let go again? No, he wouldn't dare. And if he dared he wouldn't succeed. His shoulder was getting better day by day. And surely he'd recover from his aching rips soon too. He was determined to run then. Far away from this psycho.
Darling looked at his hand for once. Those eyes. He just couldn't forget them. The way they looked at him when he shook his hand for the first time. So intense. So determined to do everything possible to help him. Almost as though another person had spoken through him.
And he still felt his touch on his body when he lifted him up in the air and carried him the moment he wasn't able to walk anymore. He'd been certain he'd die that very night; that this torture had to be over soon, but no. That Roger had upset his plans right away. And funny enough it felt so safe back then. In his arms. With his head leaned on his chest. As much as Darling had feared everything and everyone that moment he still remembered how sure he had been nothing was gonna hurt him as long as that guy watched over him.
The young man gasped and quickly shook his head. He felt his face flushing and getting embarrassingly hot. Quickly he got up from the bed.
"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he whispered to himself.
This was ridiculous. He hadn't known what he'd engaged himself in back then. He hadn't known a bit of that man. No, he'd shown his true colors for the first time here. He was crazy. A pervert and a choleric loner. He didn't even spent his days in this house even though there was a bunch of lovable friends admiring the very ground he walked on. And now he was holding Darling captive in that shade of a 'normal' life disguise.
No, he couldn't let that happen. Darling got up. Never would he allow himself to become one of them. Never would he kiss this jerk's bum. And he wouldn't hide in here just because he didn't want him to see whatever he was hiding.
Darling marched out of the room in wide steps. He held his head out in the corridor and listened carefully. No sounds. None at all.
"Of course there can't be, silly," he reminded himself.
With everyone gone, he was alone. In this huge cage. So he might as well could find out now. He could try to get some answers to the many questions he had. And he needed to prove to himself he was right.
Silently he sneaked down the stairs. Once or twice he asked himself why he was being so careful. With no one around he could very well walk normally, yet somehow his whole body was tense. It was wrong to do that and he knew it. But right now he didn't care at all. He needed to know. Needed one little evidence to show them this guy was not the saint they took him for.
He went past the kitchen. His own footsteps echoed from the walls. It felt so strange. He'd only known this house filled with people. Being alone in here almost carried along something scary. Even the huge paintings looked different somehow being alone in here. Everything had something dangerous about it. Surely the night and the darkness and the missing noise did the trick too, but right now it felt more like walking a maze than anything else.
Darling stopped in front of another huge door. He turned once, seeing the familiar kitchen-entrance behind him. He'd never been in this part of the corridor before. And he knew why. His heart pounded against his chest when he turned to look at that door-knob.
This was Roger's room. He never came close to it and he never thought about it before. Too scary was the idea of facing that guy. And seeing what was insight that room. But he simply had to know right now. No one needed to know he was doing this after all. So slowly he turned the door-knob and opened the door. It squeaked. Must be the old wood for sure, but he couldn't shake the feeling of it sounding like a warning right now. Don't go any further.
This was silly. A door, that's what it was. Nothing else.
Darling pushed it open gently. At first he wasn't able to see anything. It was dark in there. Of course. Why should there be light when Roger wasn't here at all.
Slowly he stepped over the threshold and entered the room. A cold wind blew in his face. He looked around. He was hardly able to see anything still, even though his eyes got used to the darkness quickly. So Darling turned and switched on the light. A small window at the end of a surprisingly small room was still open and made the curtains fly like ghosts through the windows.
He looked around. Much to his surprise this place wasn't really anything special. In fact it looked like a closet. Small and dark, with one tiny bed in the right corner and a chair in the left. A bunch of clothes were flung loosely over its armrest. But apart from that there was nothing. No pictures. No closets. Nothing. And one thing caught his eyes immediately. This place wasn't white. As a matter of fact it seemed to be the only room in this palace that looked more like a storeroom with the cold gray stone walls and an old brown wooden floor.
Was this how he lived? Darling's eyes widened. He surely never believed that. And he had been so certain to know exactly what he would find. But no.
This place was spotless. And tiny. If he hadn't witnessed it himself he'd sworn Roger only came here to sleep and nothing more.
How very strange. Roger never once had given the impression of living this ascetic. Especially not in a house like that.
And for a moment Darling had no idea what to think at all. Slowly he sank onto that tiny bed. He felt he had to sit down, if only for a second. How could this be? Had he been that wrong all the time? No, that guy brought people here. Another man every night. How the hell did he explain that?
Darling turned his head slightly. The chair with that bunch of clothes stared at him mockingly. It was only a bundle of cloth. Not even enough to go on for a week. But Roger had always been dressed perfectly.
Darling stretched out his hand and grabbed the first garment on top of that heap. Hesitantly he pulled it closer to himself and observed it. A coat? Yes. A charcoal-gray coat.
And for a second he thought his heart stopped. It was the one he'd worn the day he had brought him here. The one Darling had got to know so closely, having fallen asleep in his arms while Roger had put exactly that piece of clothing around his shaking body.
He couldn't believe it. He turned his head once more and it was then he noticed that every single garment on that chair was exactly the outfit Roger had worn that day. No more and no less.
It confused him deeply. He'd been here since two weeks already. Why didn't he ever notice that this guy lived like that? Well, okay. Basically because he'd tried everything to stay out of the way of this one. But why didn't he just throw that stuff away? Or wash it at least. Brian would be delighted to get this rag into his hands for sure.
Darling stared at this thing in his hands. Why would he keep that? He could clearly see the blood that still stuck to it. That cloth. He still remembered it. And it still felt exactly the same. And all of this was more than confusing. How could someone turn the image he was giving to the outside around without even being there? Darling felt like being hypnotized. This wasn't possible. He acted rough and grumpy but everything he'd found until now didn't underline one single conclusion at all.
So slowly Darling pulled that coat a little closer until his face almost touched it. That man. Once more he saw him in front of him. Those dark eyes. They had been looking deep insight his soul. Or at least that's what it felt like. There simply had been no escaping him.
He lifted that coat a little and inhaled deeply. His scent was still sticking to it. It was as though his hands were carrying him again that very moment. He felt his grip. Strong but soft. Darling closed his eyes. And just for that moment he was there again. In that little alley. Covered in blood but protected by his arms which softly held him close to his body.
And the very next moment Darling teared his eyes wide open as he noticed his heart pounding against his chest fiercely. Shocked, he threw that coat away from himself and got up, stepping back a little. But still he wasn't able to turn his gaze down.
Why did his head bring that scene back to him over and over again? This was scary and in a way not at all like himself. Maybe it was that house. And all those people in here. He could kick himself noticing he was seemingly falling for his bluff more and more. Maybe it was the first stage of becoming just what they all are now. But no. He couldn't allow that. He just couldn't.
But why did his heart beat so fast each time he thought about him?
His head rose high up in the air in horror as he suddenly heard the front door opening.
Shit. How long had he been in here? It wasn't good if any of them saw him in here. He couldn't give them the satisfaction of finding him being curious about the man they all were wrong about. He didn't expect them back so quickly though. And suddenly a slight fear appeared in him. He must get out of here. Switch off the lights and run. And somehow quietly vanish into that white hell up there again.
He started to hurry towards the door of Roger's chamber and was just about to leave. One quick turn again just to check if everything was still the way he'd found it.
He was already half out of the room and just felt the wall for the light switch when he turned his head and froze. His jaw dropped and he didn't dare to breathe. As much as he wanted to run he was petrified.
In front of him stood neither Brian nor Kevin nor anyone else of that merry group but Roger himself who looked down at him with a blank face. Immediately Darling felt a knot in his stomach. That overwhelming fear. There it was again. So what now? He didn't expect him of all people and he caught him. Right here. Invading his privacy when he wasn't even allowed to leave the cage he'd built for him.
Roger didn't move though. He just kept staring back at the younger man. A mixture of shock and disbelief was written in his face and he had his arm raised still, probably to open the door, but couldn't take it down.
"What are you doing?" Roger whispered in a voice so unlike himself, it made Darling shiver.
"Who's that?"
Another guy stepped up behind the tall man, scanning Darling as well. An unknown blonde man Darling had never seen before. Damn it. He didn't waste one thought about Roger being the one to come home earlier than expected. And accompanied. And the stranger started to grin immediately. A grin Darling didn't like at all.
"Didn't you say they're all gone?" he said, approaching the younger man slowly. "But a cute one this is."
He took Darling's chin with one hand and literally forced him to look up in his eyes. He smiled at him, but the younger man slapped his hand away quickly and rushed backwards. Unfortunately the wall was in his way. So he pressed his back against the solid texture and immediately started to look like an intimidated animal. He glanced at that blonde man wickedly.
"Leave him be," Roger said, stepping between them and casually pushed that man a little further away. His voice was indifferent though. He turned only halfway again and looked at Darling from the corner of his eyes. "He shouldn't even be here."
It sounded more like a threat. Darling looked back at him in panic. And then he was about to leave, dragging Anonymous along. But the blonde Adonis ignored him completely. He was still fixated on the young guy who huddled against that wall and held his breath.
"Now wait a minute," he pushed Roger aside with one arm and approached him once more.
Quickly he had his hands on Darling's chin once more. Darling closed his eyes in fear. As much as he tried and wanted to get away from him, there was no way. Plus he could move only one arm properly, which already held on to the arms of that guy.
"Let go of me," he yelled at him, but Anonymous only started to laugh slightly.
"I think he's sweet. Could be fun, don't you think?" he replied, addressing Roger but came even closer to Darling.
Darling tried to push him away, but somehow it just wouldn't work. So he turned his face away as widely as possible and squeezed his eyes together. He could feel that guy being so close. His breath on his skin and his greedy eyes. He wanted to scream, but his voice just didn't obey him at all.
But suddenly he let go of him. Darling's head shot up immediately.
Roger stood right next to him and still held the arms of that guy up in the air. He didn't look too pleased at all. He stretched out his arm and almost lifted him up in the air by his shirt, staring directly into his eyes. His eyes had changed somehow. They were literally burning and not in a nice way.
"I suppose you heard me right," he breathed in Anonymous direction dangerously, clenching his teeth.
"Hey, what's your problem now?" the guy replied jeering. "The more the merrier, right?"
"So let me specify this a little more," Roger answered and pushed him roughly away. "If you ever dare to come near him again, I'll personally break your every bone. Did I make myself clear?"
Anonymous wanted to say something, but Roger was much quicker. Again he stepped between Darling and that guy, covering him protectively.
"I think it's better you leave," Roger said, straightening up.
"What?"
"Now!"
The blonde guy looked from Roger to Darling and back and within only seconds was fuming in anger. He whirled around, ready to leave.
"Fine," he answered. "I didn't know you were into the young ones anyway."
He turned and in large steps left the house, slamming the door.
And then there was silence. The whole house seemed to exhale loudly, even though no sound was to be heard at all. Darling was still shocked but slowly he felt his body soothing a little. And when he finally dared to breathe again, he felt as though his knees would give in any moment. He still stared at the door though, totally forgetting about Roger who still stood motionless in front of him. Darling hardly dared to move, but when Roger turned to him slowly his whole body stiffened once more.
"What were you doing down here?" he asked angrily. "I thought I told you to stay away."
"I'm sorry...I," Darling started, but didn't get to end whatever he might have said that moment. He didn't even know himself what he was trying to explain here.
"You were supposed to stay up there, God damn it," Roger raised his voice. "Fuck!"
How Darling hated him. That look. Those piercing eyes and that temper. He never knew how to take this guy or when his mood swings took place. Everything he despised in him, there it was again.
"I-I didn't mean to cause any harm," Darling tried though.
"Did you want that to happen?" Roger interrupted him though. "Sneaking around like that. No wonder you ended up in the streets, having almost been thrashed into hell."
Darling swallowed hard, but felt his hands forming fists.
"Well, you should have left me there then!" he suddenly screamed at the older man. "Instead of keeping me here like a prisoner!"
"Then go on! Leave! If that's where you wanna be so badly," Roger yelled back, gesturing wildly. "I won't stop you!"
Darling froze for a second, looking at him with wide eyes. But then his face darkened.
"Fine," he said quietly, fixating him.
Then he ducked away under Roger's arms and as fast as his feet carried him ran outside the door as well. Roger remained where he was. And Darling didn't dare to look back.
….
He ran down the street. Faster and faster. His feet felt like concrete and his lungs almost exploded. He felt that stabbing pain in his chest and knew immediately this heavy breathing and the physical stress was what caused his injuries to sound the alarm again, but he ignored it. All he wanted was to get away.
The street was hardly visible underneath his wet eyes. He was angry. And hurt. And he hated himself right now for letting these emotions show that openly, but as hard as he tried he couldn't stop those tears from coming. This had been the first words they'd spoken to one another in weeks and the last ones too. Why did he feel embarrassed? Why the hell did he care at all? Nothing this guy did until now effected him like that.
His shoulder hurt. Badly. And when he felt he wasn't able to go on, he stopped bending forward and breathing heavily. He had his eyes closed, but still felt sweat and tears running down his face.
Once more, he swallowed hard. Did he honestly expect something else?
Opening his eyes again he must admit yes he had. Something deep insight had secretly wished for that man to finally talk to him. He just didn't expect it to end up fulfilling all the prejudices he'd had.
Slowly he lifted his head, looking up to the sky.
And what now? The black dangerous face of the nightly clouds looked down at him mockingly. And only now he noticed how cool a night could be. And the wind increased by the minute. Darling looked around. He didn't even know where he was. He'd never been in that part of the city before and there was nowhere he could turn to now.
His body shivered. And just when the pain in his chest reported back, he felt cold drops of rain falling down on him heavily. One more look up to the sky and it was starting to pour like cats and dogs. Darling lowered his head and closed his eyes. How stupid of him. How silly. They had been right. He should have stayed there until he was fully recovered at least. He was soaking wet by now with his hair clinging to his face in sticky curls.
Slowly he sank down to the ground, leaning to one of the old rusty fences all the houses here had in front of their entrance. This was unbearable. He was still breathing heavily and pulled his knees closer to his body, leaning his forehead onto them. Usually he would have had a back-up plan or at least any idea what to do. But it had been gone. Along with every last hope he had had in this world.
It was just like that day two weeks ago. He was hurt and alone. And his body just wouldn't stop shivering in the freezing coldness of the rain.
But then suddenly he felt an unknown warmth surrounding him and teared his eyes wide open in surprise. Lifting his head he noticed the rain was gone. At least around the spot he was sitting. He still could see it dripping onto the stone around him smudging the reflections of the light windows in the puddles. He turned his head a little more.
A black woolen coat hung around his shoulders. So this was what gave that little warmth right now.
His eyes wandered up. And he almost gasped looking into the face of Roger once more, who stood silently next to him just holding an umbrella over him to prevent the rain from hitting him. He didn't look angry though. He wore an almost pitiful look. And his white shirt covered by a waistcoat was soaking more and more. So this must be his coat Darling was wearing right now.
Darling didn't say anything, just stared at him suspiciously. And Roger didn't even attempt to say anything. The more surprised the young man was when he slowly sat down next to him, always careful to hold up that umbrella. He was staring straight ahead though.
Darling waited. What was this about? He stared at the street again too.
"Thanks," he mumbled quietly, pulling that coat a little closer to himself.
"I'm sorry," he heard Roger's voice silently and immediately turned to look at him from the corner of his eyes again. The older man didn't turn though.
"I never wanted to give you the feeling of being imprisoned," Roger spoke again. "And I shouldn't have screamed."
Darling didn't believe his ears. He didn't dare to move though. Too well did he know his temper by now and wasn't quite sure what to think about all of this.
"I-I shouldn't have gone into there," he answered then, hugging his legs a little more. "I-I just didn't expect anyone to notice."
"Maybe you should stop sneaking around then," Roger replied and Darling immediately felt his eyes on him.
He lifted his head and their eyes met.
"Because you're paying for my recovery. I know," Darling answered. "I will pay you back if that is your problem."
"It was wrong making you stay in there," Roger continued almost softly. "I just didn't want you to hurt yourself even more. And with that guy... I didn't expect him to do that."
"I'm sorry for that," darling replied hoarsely. "I guess I wrecked that night for you then."
"One more or less," the older man jeered slightly. "It doesn't matter."
"Why do you do it then?"
Roger chose not to answer and instantly Darling lost that little spark of boldness again. It wasn't his concern. He shouldn't ask that. And he was totally fine not to answer it.
They sat there silently beside each other for what seemed an eternity. Darling didn't know what to say. But he felt his nervousness vanish and all of a sudden he couldn't imagine any other place to be right now. It confused him even more. This was strange. But somehow it felt okay sitting in the rain with that awful guy.
"I guess you've searched for something to prove what kind of idiot I am," Roger said suddenly.
Darling looked at him with wide eyes and much to his surprise the older man smiled at him. Funny. He looked so different smiling. In a way much younger and almost handsome. Not even a shade of that grumpy arrogant loner he had been until now. It reminded Darling of that very first day again.
"How can you even live in there?" he asked then defiantly. "With all the space in the world."
"It used to be a storeroom," Roger replied calmly. "I moved in there because it was the one room that was far enough from my usual one."
"And why would you do that?" Darling asked trying to act indifferent. "To get away from your faithful infantry? To be something better by living apart?"
"Because the one who lives in my room right now seems to be scared of me," Roger replied. Darling's head almost whirled around to him once more. His eyes grew even wider. Roger was still smiling though.
"Which of course," he coughed slightly. "Is my fault. I know that. And I am sorry for that too. I guess we just had a bad start, don't you think?"
Darling didn't know what to say. He never expected this. Neither this conversation nor that guy being someone completely different within only a second.
"I never wanted to give you the feeling of not being welcome," Roger said once more. "And I still stick to my word. I still want to help you. If you let me, of course."
Darling gasped when Roger stretched out his hand in his direction. Just like he did before.
"Please come back with me," he continued softly. "I won't scream and I won't try to convince you to do anything. I just want you to get better. And maybe you can find a way to forgive me then before you leave."
Darling thought about it for a moment. But then it was as though someone else acted through him. He couldn't even explain it. His own hand almost magically moved towards Roger's and when he felt his touch a shiver ran down his spine. He sent a prayer up above not to let him notice.
Roger smiled even more though. Thus, he got up. He was soaking wet himself by now, but with an elegant lightness helped Darling up to his feet again. He stood there perplex. As hard as he wanted to he just couldn't turn his gaze away.
"Come on," Roger spoke again softly and offered him his arm.
Darling wanted to ignore it, but as he did his first step that painful traction shot through him again and made him almost sink down again. Roger caught him though quickly before he could fall. Gently, he lifted him up again and Darling immediately clasped his arm.
They walked slowly. Obviously Darling had run a good distance for they took several turns before the street he knew from the view of his – Roger's – window again. Darling didn't mind though. As much as his body had threatened to burst when he ran away, the more did he feel lighter and lighter on the way back. They didn't speak one word all the way. Darling simply hung there in his arms with his head leaned to Roger's shoulder, taking one careful step after the other. He had his face lowered though. Roger probably thought it was out of pain and embarrassment, but the truth was Darling didn't want him to see. To see his blushed face and the puzzling look on his face. And he hoped so much that damn heart-beat wouldn't give him away. He didn't understand it himself. It was so surreal and he couldn't understand at all why his whole being reacted that way all of a sudden. Only thing he knew was he was there. Feeling him, smelling him and being safe again. And he noticed he'd never liked the rain any more.
How embarrassing. He hoped no one would see them. And more than that he tried his very best to make it stop. He loathed that guy. He always had. And just because he chose to show a little humanity right now didn't change anything, did it?
~To be continued~
