Inside out and outside in
you bring eyesight to the blind.
Crying is a crime
Eyesight to the Blind – Placebo

B.K

"Who's that?"

I look over in the direction Emmett's looking, quite appreciatively I might add, and my eyes zero in on the boy under the microscope of Emmett's eyes. And, fuck, he's under my microscope now. Smooth, shaggy blonde hair, bright blue eyes that someone – Someone that let's themselves get caught up in that romantic shit. Someone that's a fucking lesbian. Someone that's not me. – could drown in, perfect pink lips just begging to be kissed – preferably by me and not Emmett or anyone else – and, something I readily notice, the most fuckable ass I've seen all day. One of the most fuckable asses I've seen in general. This blonde is automatically on the top of my 'Gorgeous Men to Fuck' list.

"Don't even think about it, asshole."

Suddenly Debbie's standing right there. Right in my view of the new kid she's hired to clean up tables after the customers have left. I scowl up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Since when do you tell me who I can fuck? Much less think about fucking?" The woman crossed her arms over her chest, colorful plastic bracelets dangling noisily in my face. I think I hear Michael snort next to me. I glare over at him but he only shrugs and quickly shoves his hamburger into his mouth. I raise an eyebrow back at Debbie who's shooting me a 'don't get smart with me, asshole' look. Hmm – I seem to get that look from her a lot. "You don't get it. He's different."

I crane my head to look around her slightly large form then back at her with a smirk.

"Yeah, he's a lot hotter then most of the men I know."

"Brian,"

She points a finger in my face.

"Stay away. That's not what I meant."

Obviously. I yawn just to show her how bored I am of her authority and take a sip of my water. I'm used to the woman bugging me about things but never things like who I fuck or look at. So, even though I'm slightly doubtful, there must be something about this blonde that's making her want to protect him from me. Though, I don't see why anyone would want protection from me. I mean, as soon as he gets a look at me he's going to ditch Debbie and all her bullshit about me and run into my arms and let me fuck him into total oblivion. "Then, Deb, do tell me what you meant because I'm sort of lost." I keep my voice cool and sarcastic. It always tends to get on her nerves.

"For one, he's seventeen."

"Six years apart. Not too bad."

She ignores me. As usual.

"And he's…well, he can't exactly see you."

What the fuck is she talking about? "Debbie, in case you haven't noticed it's hard, almost damn near impossible, to not be able to see me. What the fuck are you going on about?" The woman rolls her eyes but I know she's used to my 'Self involved', egoistic nature. Everyone is. She shakes her head and sits down next to Emmett and across from me, fingers tapping on the table. I wish she would hurry up and get on with whatever she's talking about because I have to leave soon. I have a meeting in forty minutes and Cynthia will rip my balls off if I'm late. I give Debbie a 'Hurry the fuck up' stare and, finally, she opens her loud mouth to speak. Except, she's being oddly quiet right now.

"Sunshine's,"

I snort.

"Sunshine?"

"That's his nickname."

I guess I can see why. I nod as if to tell her to go on. She does.

"Anyway, Sunshine, well, he was in an accident a few years ago…he won't tell me what happened but the accident left a major injury,"

I smirk.

"What? Did he lose the use of his cock?"

She ignores me for the most part. She only sends me a glare and continues.

"He's blind."

Oh. That could present sort of a problem.

J.T

People never believe me when I tell them that I'm blind. I don't know if it's because I get around just as easily as a person who can see or if it's cause I don't look like I'm blind. What I mean by that is my eyes, they look normal. They aren't unfocused, I can pinpoint where a sound is coming from immediately and stare directly at the person who is speaking to me and they aren't any abnormal color like some people's eyes are, I guess. There is one thing, though, that does kind of help me with getting around.

I can't see exactly but I can see outlines of people, animals, objects and buildings. I mean, the outlines aren't distinct – like I could never read a sign or anything like that. Someone would have to do that for me – but I can make out if a person is taller or shorter then me, most of the time they're taller then me, and I can see where I'm going for the most part. I really do miss actually seeing though. Seeing colors mostly. I'm an artist and I can actually see my art. Sure, I can see it in my head and I know that's what it looks like but I would love to actually physically see it again.

Of course, that can never happen.

The accident happened five years ago. I had only been twelve. People tell me that twelve-year-olds should never have to go through horrible accidents. Honestly, I don't remember what happened. All I do know about the accident was that my mother and father – for once he was actually around – and I were driving somewhere, I can't remember where, and we got in a wreck. I had blacked out, was bloodied and bruised everywhere. If it hadn't been for my seatbelt I might've died. Ever since then I've dedicated my life to telling people that seatbelts really do save lives. No, not really, but I don't ever not put mine on. That's for sure.

So, I woke up in the hospital three days later only to be greeted by darkness. At first I had thought I was dead. It had never occurred to me that I could've become blind. Not me. There was no way I could be blind. People made fun of me enough as it is. I'm hadn't been the type of kid to go outside into the hot sun and play sports and do the things the other boys at school did. They got a real kick out of pointing that out every time I was within earshot. Now, they were going to have a fabulous time making fun of my disability. Anyway, me being blind had never popped up into my mind. Until a nice, female nurse told me that it was ok and to relax.

Then she told me I was blind.

…And she wanted me to fucking relax?

Yeah. Fucking. Right.

I don't think I spoke to anyone or came out of my room for weeks after I got out of the hospital. My mom would come up to my room every day to bring me my food and try and talk me into coming out and doing something. Like what? Watch a movie? Yeah, more like hear a movie. After I got over the angst stage, months and months later, I began training myself to use my hearing to get around. That's when I realized that I could see the outlines of people, which boosted my mood way, way up. I could still see somewhat. When my mom asked me if I wanted one of those long black sticks that blind people used to get themselves around I immediately refused.

My father acted all proud of me for refusing the stick.

Probably because he thought I was doing to act all "macho" and everything.

Bull. Shit. Honestly, what a stupid reason. I was quick not to tell him the real reason for my lack of appreciation for the walking stick. I'd rather just let him think he knows what the hell he's thinking about. Soon it had gotten easier. Being blind, that is. I even had better hearing, which was an obvious. The only low about that was I could hear the other kids making fun of me a lot easier. It was like they got off on that type of thing: making fun of the "Special Kids" as they liked to say. I soon got over being mad at them. It was really a waste of my time because, well, their opinion meant nothing to me. Now, five years later, I don't listen to anyone's bullshit anymore.

Unless it's something nice.

Like Debbie. She's one of the nicest people I've ever met. I was surprised when she acted like it was nothing that I was blind when I had asked her if there were any jobs available. I was in major need of a job. The reason: To get out of the house and away from my fucking father. Craig Taylor, an efficient business man, used every moment that he could to shove girls in my face. Date her, or her, or, oh my god, her! I wonder if he told any of them I was blind before shoving them at me. Probably not. I gladly told all of them that I was blind – and not interested. It worked like a charm. They hightailed it out of there and, of course, dad knew it was all because of my lack of charm with the ladies.

So, yeah, I was extremely grateful when Debbie gave me the job. Even if it was just picking up after people. I'd take anything I could get. If only my dad knew where I was working. He'd have a fucking cow. Good thing he and my mom had filed for divorce – Well, he had been a lying and cheating prick – and he lived in New York. Somewhere where I didn't have to see him everyday, tell him about my whereabouts or my sexual preference, somewhere where I wouldn't have to listen to him criticize me. Things were looking up for me slightly. My mother would be easier to handle. Especially since she knew about me being gay and all. Thankfully, she treated me normally and not like a disease.

So now here I am. Working at 'The Liberty Diner' with the best person I could be working with.

Kiki is nice too. One of the nicest transsexuals I have ever met.

…The only one I've met.

"How ya' doin', Sunshine?"

I smile bright at her despite the fact I'm picking up nasty, dirty plates off one of the diners many tables. I guess that's how I earned my nickname. Sunshine. I liked it. I can see her outline. Slightly large but not too large and, I think, she has curly hair. If I'm seeing correctly. I hold the bucket that I put the dirty dishes in against my hip and shrug. "Great. I got some tips today. I guess I pick up dirty dishes really well." Yeah. Right. I'm not blind enough to know that I don't have a great ass and to know that I'm gorgeous. People have never missed an opportunity to tell me so. Debbie laughs her loud, infectious laugh. I love her laugh.

"Yeah, I bet that's why, Sunshine."

I continue to grin and nod.

"Your shifts over in ten minutes."

I nod and carefully walk around the counter to walk into the kitchen where I hand Joe the dishes for him to clean. He quickly hands me a wet towel to go wipe down the tables. It's amazing how much, after only five days on the job, these people…trust me with my job. I guess I proved to them that I can do everything independently just perfectly. Sighing to myself, I walk over to the closest table. I've pretty much memorized where all the tables, cracks in the floor, any objects on the floor, are so I can move around easily. Avoiding things so I don't kill myself or, to be less dramatic, hurt myself.

I start my duty.

Swipin' the tables.

While I'm busy, wiping the tables is tedious work, someone clears their throat from behind me. Smile automatically jumping onto my face, I spin around. It's a man. I could tell by the noise of his throat. He's also, no surprise here, taller then I am. Way taller then I am. "Uh...yes?" Why would anyone come up to me? It was probably just someone who needed something. I guess they don't realize I'm not exactly the one who gets people's orders.

B.K

I know Debbie told me to stay away from him but, come on now, how can anyone gay man do that? Is Debbie out of her mind? I've often wondered. All I knew was that I had, it was mandatory, to get to know this blonde. I don't usually 'get to know' the men/boys I want to fuck but I think I feel slightly…sorry for him since he's blind. Or maybe I just feel that would be wrong to treat him like one of my many tricks since he's blind. Debbie would kill me if I did that anyway. It's obvious that she loves 'Sunshine' like he's one of her sons. I wonder how Michael feels about that. He probably hasn't caught on yet.

So I walk up to him.

And got a nice view of him bending over while wiping down one of the tables. Images of fucking him like this flew into my mind full force. I would by lying to say that they didn't. I can't believe this boy hasn't been molested already. I might have to be the one to do that. So, anyway, I walk over and try to ignore the way I could just "accidentally" bump into his ass, and clear my throat. I. Must. Be. Polite. He's different. He's not like one of the sex lookin', sex crazy, whores in the backroom of Babylon. He's an innocent minor who's going to want me. Like everyone else does. I wish he could see me though. I'm fucking gorgeous after all.

"Um…yes?"

He's smiling. My first thought is: Wow. Beautif- Then I cut it off. My second thought is – Wow. He has really white teeth. And those lips are just calling my name. "Is 'Sunshine' your real name?" Debbie hadn't told me when I had asked her after her little 'Avoid the blind kid' speech. She hadn't told me because she desperately wanted me to leave him alone. Honestly. How much damage could I do? Even if I did end up fucking him, which it wasn't pretty likely that that would be happening, what would be the big deal? We would both go our separate ways. Satisfied. Moving on. His grin becomes slightly wider and the rag he's holding is set on the table and he holds on his dry hand.

"Justin Taylor."

I immediately take his hand; small, warm and soft in mine.

Like a perfect fit except I do not think that.

I'm Brian Kinney for fucks sake.

"Brian Kinney."

"I'm blind."

He says it with a slightly odd look on his face. He says it as if he wants, needs, to make sure I know. As if it'll change everything that's happening right now. I smile, although he can't see it, and nod. "Yeah, so I've heard. Debbie was quick to tell me." I'm sure he doesn't know why and he doesn't ask. He only offers me a slightly startled look and the nods. His smile falls back into place and he twists his hands nervously in front of his stomach. "Oh…what do you look like? I like to know what the people look like I'm talking about." He quickly explains, cheeks turning slightly pink. I smirk, silent for a moment. I'm just about to open my mouth to answer him when Debbie stampedes over here and grabs me by my arm.

"What the fuck did I tell you, asshole?"

I blink. Goddamn her and her interruption tendencies.

Justin jumps slightly at the suddenly yell of Debbie's voice then looks at the two of us oddly. I glare over at the women. "I'm only talking to him. And, I'm being very polite." I watch, slightly amused, as Justin furiously nods in agreement. "Don't worry, Deb. He's great. Not like, well the guys I told you about." Curiosity immediately fills my system. I must know. Debbie looks at me wearily. She knows and I know that she can't keep me away from him if I want him and she can't make Justin not talk to me. The boy can make his own decisions all by himself after all.

"Fine, but your shift is over in five minutes."

She sends one last glare at me before stalking off to take the orders of a group of rowdy teenagers. Most of them are groping one of the other people in the group. Debbie telling them to keep their hands to themselves in that threatening manner of her works. I turn back to the blonde who picked his towel up again and started moving to the next table. I move in step next to him. "Still want to know if I'm ugly or not?" He smiles slightly and looks back up me. "Sure, but, when I'm done working. You can take me somewhere, buy me something to drink, and you can tell me." I raise an eyebrow. Awfully demanding for a blind kid.

"Even though you don't know if I'm horrid looking?"

"Your voice isn't horrid. You can't be too bad."

"You haven't heard me sing."

He laughs as he begins wiping the table again. I peer down at the table that's getting clean despite the fact that he can't see it. "How can you tell if the table's clean or not?" He's silent for a moment. "Is it?" I quickly nod. Shit. I keep forgetting he can't fucking see. "Yeah, perfect." He grins. "I know because I haven't gotten any complaints yet. Now leave me alone so I can finish my job." I take a few steps away, look down at my watch, and back over at him. "Fine, fine. But, in two in a half minutes I'll be back to continue annoying the hell out of you." He nods, still smiling.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Yeah, me too.