After that, Howard didn't see Vince for a very long time. His parents and pulled him out of school and sent him to a boarding school across town. Howard had tried to keep in touch but every possible means of communication had been severed. Howard sometimes caught a glimpse of his old friend, when he came home from school at the end of term but only if he happened to see him walking from the taxi to the vicarage or vice versa. Vince never ventured outside the safety of his own room during there times at home. From the limited glimpses Howard had of the boy, he'd changed a lot. Not just in appearance, though his short hair and black clothes didn't help, but he always looked so miserable, like he was on the brink of mental despair and could break into tears at any moment. Howard just wanted to run to him, to hold him, to tell him things would be okay, that he didn't need his dad or his dad's faith or anything else; that he didn't need to change, that he was perfect the way he was but he didn't think it would make a difference. The Vince he had once known was lost to this new, terrifying, emotionless being.

Howard kept going to school. He kept slogging his way through the life, though it was hard now. School became more difficult, more threatening. He'd run home to avoid the bullies. He'd keep his head down and worked as hard as he could. Some mornings, he'd walk all the way to the vicarage before he'd remember that Vince was long gone. Some times, on these mornings, he'd feel like crying.

Eventually, the summer holidays arrived. Vince was home at the vicarage for eight glorious, sun-filled weeks. There was no way he would stay cooped up inside the whole time; but he did. Howard watched the old building carefully but Vince never left. Not once. After a few weeks of spying on the front of the house Howard took a short walk to the lane by Old Mrs Robinson's fence so he could view the Noir's garden back garden.

It looked just like it always had; beautiful flowers dancing in the cool summer's breeze, butterflies and honey bees darting about in their endless search for pollen. The colours blending together like a kaleidoscope of heavenly beauty. He allowed his eyes to pick out the white trellis that was under Vince's window, the one Vince used to climb down to escape his homework, when he was little. Howard smiled fondly at the memories that trellis held. There was a purple flower creeping up it now and that in itself was proof that Vince hadn't escaped recently. As, in his bid to surreptitious, he'd kick all the flower heads off the plants. Above the trellis, where Vince's glittery curtains should have been, were thick black curtains that were drawn despite the blistering sunshine. The window was open though, suggesting that Vince was indeed in the room.

Howard peered into the garden again and around at the surrounding gardens. No one was outside. He could easily hop this wall and shimmy up that trellis before anyone noticed but would Vince want him there? Howard found his stomach twist in anticipation. Now that he could actually find a way to see Vince, to really talk to him rather than making do with fleeting glimpses of a boy he hardly knew, Howard was excited. His heart swelled a little and it suddenly really hit him how much he missed Vince. How much he needed and craved the younger man.

Well, that settled it. He had to try. He hopped the wall easily and crept silently to the old stone wall of the house. He studied the trellis carefully. Now he was close, it looked thin and ancient and certainly not strong enough to take his 6ft of weight. He'd forgotten that Vince used to climb this when he was fourteen but Howard decided that as he'd made it this far he might as well have a go. He'd just climb quickly, give the trellis less time to collapse on him. He edged his toe in the highest diamond he dared and hoisted himself up. The wood seemed to creak beneath his weight but it didn't snap. Not yet. He climbed quickly, not looking down and not listening to the definite sound of splintering wood that seemed to get louder with every step he took. At last, he reached the ledge and fell through the window. With an ear-splitting crash, Howard found himself tumbling across a desk knocking various pens and pencils, a lamp, some paints (with the lids still on, thankfully) and all manner of other things off a desk. Then he collided with the body that had been working at the desk and together they crashed to the floor. Howard opened his eyes to find himself led on Vince, who looked shocked and embarrassed.

"Howard." he grumbled, "What the heck are you doing?"

"Ummm," Now that he was here, Howard didn't have a clue what he was doing. In his mind it had been all very heroic, all very white knight, damsel in distress, rescue, national acclaim and a kiss from the damsel. Though Howard didn't like to dwell too long on that last thought.

"Well?" Vince encouraged and Howard was reminded he was supposed to be giving an answer.

"Umm, yes." he started, "I'm practicing for a trellis climbing competition and this is the only one in the neighbourhood so I thought I'd better practice here."

Vince cocked an eyebrow. "How's that coming along?" he asked with a bit of a smirk. "Not great really."

"Hmm. So what are you really doing?" Vince asked.

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

"Because… I miss you." he said honestly. "It's not the same without you around."

Vince nodded. His expression was torn.

"Are you happy now, Vince?"

Vince nodded but it wasn't convincing.

"Why don't you ever come outside?"

"I paint." he answered simply.

"Paint what?"

"The way I see things in my head. The good and the bad." he held up a painting of a incredible red phoenix. It was rising up from flames leaving molten ashes far behind.

"He's getting a new start like me." Vince explained. There were hundreds of paintings around the room. They were plastered all over the walls. Mice with black deceitful eyes. Badgers who was suffering despite their happy surroundings. Animal after animal, each with a horror story locked in their twisted expression. Each with a dark secret, which tortured their minds. Howard shuddered. He didn't like this world Vince saw. Then he spotted the corner of a painting half sticking out from behind the desk. Howard must have dislodged when he fell through the window. It was covered in dust and clearly hidden.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's what I painted the day I moved schools" he said distantly. The last time Vince and Howard had seen each other. This was what Vince had painted. The curiosity overwhelmed Howard.

"Can I look?" he asked.

Vince nodded slowly. Howard felt as though he was the only one who would be given permission to view this. He tugged gently at the corner of the paper and pulled the painting towards him. Slowly more and more of the image was revealed until he could see the whole thing.

It was in split in half. On one side was a painting of a person who looked a lot like Howard, stood with a beautiful, raven haired bride on his arm. They were stood at an alter smiling and happy. There were people at the wedding happy people, congratulating them and shaking Howard's hand. The colours were bright and beautiful. On the other side of the paper. The colours were dark. The black was broken only by the vicious slashes of red. This side had been done out of anger. In the centre of the picture was what was unmistakably Vince, or how he used to look, alone and frightened in a sea of black and nothing. At the top left hand corner was another person, though this one was much harder to make out. Picture Vince seemed to be trying to reach out to this other figure but red slashes stopped it; condemned it.

Howard swallowed;

"Who's that?" he pointed at the figure.

"You." Vince answered truthfully. Howard nodded, he'd thought as much.

"And who's this?" Howard pointed at the bride.

"That's how I was meant to be born." Vince said, his eyes filling with tears. Howard nodded again. He didn't need anymore explanation than that. He understood.

Vince looked meek and downtrodden and suddenly Howard noticed, his nose had changed shape. His eyes must have lingered on it for a while because Vince said;

"I got in a fight."

"Oh." Then; "What about?"

"Just… a painting." he said but Howard knew there was more to it.

"Why wont you talk to me anymore?" Howard demanded, "I tried to get in touch but you just kept cutting me off."

Vince shrugged.

"We used to tell me everything and now you wont even tell why you got your nose broken."

He shrugged again.

"I don't even know if you were please to see me. You've hardly said two words since I fell through your window."

Vince looked at Howard and his eyes started to well up.

"I'm not used to talking at my new school." he whispered "and when I come home, I just lock myself up here and paint. I don't want to see people anymore. I don't want them to see me. They all hate me. I hate myself."

"But…"

"I don't fit in at that school." Vince carried on, totally ignoring Howard, "They all just ignore me now. They all think I'm queer. I tried to tell 'em I'm not a fag but, but they wont listen. So I stopped talking. What's the point in speaking if no ones going to listen to what you say?"

"I'd listen."

"You." Vince scoffed, "You were the one who tried to tell me that those feelings were okay. You virtually encouraged me but it's not okay." He looked to his painting, his eyes focusing on Vince on the left, the Vince stranded and needing help. "Look at him." he spat. "He needs you so much."

"I need you too." Howard said quietly and it wasn't until the words had left his lips that he realised it was true, both of himself and of the picture.

Vince turned to look at him. "But it's an abomination." he whispered, fingering the red paint between himself and Howard. "Here." he pointed to the bride. "She's happy."

"But she's not you." Howard cried, ripping the painting from Vince's hand and throwing it to the bed. "That's not real. That's not what really happens. That's just inside your head." he said, throwing Vince's curtain's wide open. Vince recoiled as the light hit him. He hadn't seen natural sunlight for 6 weeks.

"Look at the flowers." Howard said, "They're real. Look at the birds, they're real too. The grass, the sky, the sun. It's all real." Howard turned to see Vince, back pressed against the wall, shielding his eyes in an attempt to protect himself from the poisonous sun.

"And this" Howard said, crouching down next to him and grabbing his face. "This. Is definitely real."

And with the that he crashed their mouths together. This is what happened in fairy tales. One kiss and the princess wakes up and that's what Vince had to do. Wake up. Wake from all this depression, all this twisted logic, all this internal slowly, he felt Vince melt slightly, hands coming to rest at the back of Howard's neck and lips moving softly against his own. Then a small, insistent tongue lapped at Howard's lips begging entry. And who was Howard to deny anything Vince asked. They were both lost now. Caught up in the perfection of the moment. And then;

"Get off me." Vince cried, pushing Howard away and scuttling to the opposite side of the room.

"But I thought you."

"I do… did but not anymore! It's not right."

Vince shook violently. He looked like he was going to throw up but he controlled himself enough to say. "I think you should go Howard."

"But…"

"Please. Just go."

Howard wasn't going to leave it there though. They'd kissed and it had meant something.

"Vince." He said. "You kissed me back."

Vince shook his head desperately, clamping his hands over his ears.

"It's okay." Howard continued, "It's not wrong."

"Howard please. Please. Stop talking." Vince looked desperate now. He was shaking more than before, his throat constricting as he fought off the urge to vomit. "Just go. I'll meet you in the park tomorrow okay. As friends."

Howard gave in eventually and snuck out the window, down the trellis and home but all the time, Vince's desperate pleas still haunting him.

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