Tiny sunlight rays flickered through the soft blue spiral-patterned curtains, dancing on the wood-paneled ground. There was a gentle silence enveloping the surroundings, caressing the morning breeze, teasing the rising sun.

He flinched, as a ray strayed across in front of his eyes. Blinking furiously, he surveyed his semi-familiar surroundings. Sitting up hurriedly, he looked around madly. Pushing the duvet covering him away, he realized that he was nude. Flushing slightly, he wound it around his waist for security as he cringed from his headache. “Bloody hangover.” he grumbled morosely.

The door burst open all of a sudden, as a spirited figure sprung into view.

“Good morning, Vicky!”

“Yeah.” Victor grunted in apathy as he glared up blurrily at Jeanne, his best friend.

“What is it?” She beamed down innocently at him, trying to balance two full plates of delicious-smelling breakfast and 2 glasses of citrus juice. Victor held her gaze as he gestured at his lack of dressing irritably. “But Vicky, I couldn’t miss the chance of stripping you!” She snorted as she set down her load and went to draw the curtains. “Pervert.” Victor grouched blurrily as he stood up and headed towards the bathroom, ignoring Jeanne’s spluttering protests.

Moments later, he emerged, showered, shaven and starved. “I see you still remember that razor you left at my place the other time.” she said smugly as she pushed a plate of food towards him. Gulping down a mouthful of tangy juice, Victor attacked the food, paying no heed to the stabbing migraine.

“Say, are you planning to camp over at my place every single time you get ditched?” Jeanne bit her fork thoughtfully. “You know, I can simply leave you all sloshed and sick, out in those back alleys.”

“Yeah, be evil, why not?”

“Hey! Can’t you show more gratitude?” Jeanne jabbed Victor with her fork viciously.

“That hurts, you sadist!”

--

As the attractive pair strolled leisurely down the grey streets of town, they attracted bystanders’ looks of both envy and approval.

“It’s getting colder lately.” Victor stated blankly as he stared at the people milling to and fro. “What?” Jeanne asked distractedly, too busy being amused by the jealous gazes shot at her by females who longed to be the one latching onto his arm. “Winter is approaching.” He continued emptily.

Jeanne let out a short laugh as they entered a warm café. “It’s such a pity there isn’t a huge neon green or pink logo above you that screams ‘G-A-Y’!” Victor looked at Jeanne wryly as he ordered a cappuccino for her and a latte for himself. “I mean, look at you! You’re simply drool-worthy and dripping with sex appeal.” Jeanne said with an exaggerated sigh.

“Let me guess, I’m supposed to be flattered.”

“Why, of course, cheesecake, however did you know?” Jeanne winked lusciously.

“Cut the trash. What’s up with you and Len?”

“We’ll talk about that later. What happened to that guy you hooked up with at the bar the other night? No, wait, I thought I bingo-ed. You got ditched, didn’t you?”

Victor managed a lazy grin as he stirred his coffee, “Very perceptive.”

“You know those scum can never last. Can’t you go find someone more worthy?” Jeanne scowled. Victor shrugged, wishing to escape the subject. “… look at you. You’ve changed so much ever since … and sleeping with those bastards … Vicky …”

“I sense reproach.”

“You can’t keep running away, you know.” Jeanne said softly.

“… I know.”

--

“This, this, this, this, this, that, this, this, that, that, this …” Jeanne rambled on as she grabbed pieces of clothing off hangers, racks and shelves and threw them at Victor who caught them lazily.

“That’s enough for now, Jenny.” Victor attempted to peer at his best friend above the stacks of said clothing. “Right. Change. Now. Shoo.”

Victor emerged from the changing room, looking a little disconcerted at the scrutinizing gaze of Jeanne. “Well, you look better. That’s a start.” She commented as she plucked at the fitting dark long-sleeved shirt on him. “What do you mean?” Victor snapped before cursing furiously at his slip. Jeanne arched an eyebrow. “Need I elaborate yet again on your massive loss of weight after he, yes, he, left?”

“Shut up, I’ll take all these. Are we done?”

“No, honey buttercup, I’m going to get you a wonderful and brand new wardrobe!”

“God, someone, save me!

--

Victor Keagan, 17 and gay as in homosexual. Sadly, the other meanings of that word are likely lost in his worldliness. A broken individual. Betrayal was all too familiar for him.

Jeanne Yoshikawa, 16 and as mentioned, Victor’s best friend. Half-Japanese, and tired of being judged by her exterior and outlook by ignorant self-absorbed bastards.

But they were normal. They were anything but otherwise. After all, angst and anger were nothing special, but unavoidable.

--