Do you think you know real beauty? I’ll bet you do. You think your boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, crush, whatever is the most beautiful person in the whole world.

You’d be wrong.

The most beautiful person in the world isn’t tall, blond or muscular. He’s small, slight, with midnight black hair and eyes as deep and complex as the vastest ocean. He’s round shouldered, with a tiny waist and small exquisite feet and the most carefree, easy laugh in the world.

His name is Fay Adams.

I met him when I was 12, I was just another outcast boy from a broken family. He was only 11 with a family just as broken as mine - his family just hid it better. I loved Fay unconditionally and silently, convinced it was totally one-sided.

Four years ago, he proved me wrong. A year ago, he vowed to love me (Hi, I’m Dave Malvern, pleased to meet you) forever. He promised to be mine as long as I wanted him, swore his love for me in front of the world. With tears in my eyes, I made the same promises.

I thought we’d live happily ever after. Fay and I would never have an easy life; together we made up one half of rock “super group” Anavrin (Fay’s the vocalist, I play bass) and we lived in a mansion with: Matt Harris (the ever-gorgeous guitarist/lyricist), Joe/Jeff (Anavrin’s drummer and chief cook), Angel Andrews (Matt’s good as wife), Celeste (Matt and Angel’s child), and occasionally Michael (Fay’s little brother and oddly enough Matt’s too) and Adam Eden (Michael’s boyfriend and front man of the awesome The Best Deceptions).

So life wasn’t easy, not by any means, but it was perfect because Fay was mine and I was his. With every day that passed, I fell more and more in love with him. If you’ve read the Emo Boy Stories, you’ll understand why. If you haven’t, let me explain Fay to you.

Fay is Peter Pan, he’s the embodiment of pure innocence, of unquestioning love. He’s unknowingly sweet and infinitely intelligent, untainted by the evils of the world. Fay is childhood energy in the body of a man. Fay charms me from the moment he wakes up to the minute I fall asleep. I live for Fay, he’s my oxygen to put it simply.

I thought, hoped, prayed and wished that things would always be like that. Fay and I would live and love together, we’d make music and we’d tour and we’d face the odd crisis but we’d always be a we.

Or so I thought, hoped, prayed and wished.

It was April 5th, and I’d just woken up to an empty bed. I felt a frown crease my lips and puckering my blond brow. Fay’s side of the bed was still warm, and I heard the faint tinkle of his heart warming giggle.

I got out of bed, buttoning the shirt of my pyjamas as I crossed the room to the elaborately carved door of the bedroom I shared with Fay in the vast Anavrin mansion.

Sure enough, Fay was sitting on a counter top in the immaculate kitchen, begging Joe to make him pancakes for breakfast. He turned his easy smile and bright eyes on me.

“Morning,” He chirped as I laid a loving kiss on his porcelain skinned forehead.

“Hey beautiful,” I murmured to his little ear as he wrapped his arms (and legs) around me.

“Get a room!” Michael protested, right on cue. Fay stuck his pink tongue out at his not-so-little brother.

“Shouldn’t you be next door?” Fay asked over my shoulder. Michael and Adam had recently bought the house on the other side of the hedge. It was a big step for them and Fay was so proud of Michael, we all were. Michael shrugged.

“I would, but breakfast is here,” He yawned as Adam appeared, looking way too good for that early in the morning.

Matt and Angel wanted some “alone” (aka sex) time that day, so I offered to baby-sit the always-growing Celeste while Michael and Adam went to visit some of Adam’s old friends at Venice Beach. Fay and I seldom got to baby-sit Celeste together so I was looking forward to it.

I had felt the first stirrings of (very masculine) broodiness when Celeste was born. I wanted to be a father, with Fay I wanted to raise a child. It had started to occupy all my thoughts, the possibility of being a dad.

I told myself that if the afternoon of baby-sitting went well, I’d suggest adoption to Fay. I assumed he’d be all for it, that he’d want to cement our relationship in the most permanent way. Fay and I had so much love to give a child.

The baby-sitting did go well. Fay and Celeste napped together on the sofa, Celeste snuggled gracefully in Fay’s arms. I watched them for a while, day-dreaming up a vivid image of Fay napping with our child in his arms.

Matt and Angel returned late in the afternoon, as content and loved up as ever. Fay gushed about how well behaved Celeste was, how much he loved to see her smile up at him and hear her call him Uncle Fay.

We were sitting watching a DVD (“Saved!” - Adam recommended it) when I decided to raise the subject of adoption. Angel was upstairs painting, Celeste was asleep, Matt was in the basement jamming on his acoustic guitar and Michael and Adam were out for dinner and a movie. So we were alone in a quiet house - perfect conditions for a life-changing discussion.

“Fay, you know how you said you like being called uncle?” I said quietly.

“In a young hip way, not a crazy old man way,” He nodded.

“Well, how would you like to be called Daddy?”

“Dave I always knew you were kinky but…”

“No! Not like that. You’re such a little devil sometimes,” I grinned as he leaned in for a kiss.

“You know it Daddy,” He giggled.

“I think we should adopt a baby.”

He eyes widened, that was clearly one thing he had not been expecting. I took his hands in mine, wondering how best to explain it to him.

“You want a baby?”

“Not just any baby Fay, our baby. I want us to be a family, like the one we never had.”

“It’s a lovely idea,” He began.

“But,” I sighed.

“But I can’t even take care of myself, I really think we should wait.”

“You won’t be alone though, we can do it together.”

“Yeah, we can. And we will. Just, not now ok? We’re not ready,” He was actually blushing, and I wondered if he was ashamed, as if he felt he was confessing what he felt was his immaturity.

“I think I am.”

“Well, that’s great Dave. But you know what people would say - how can a child raise a child?”

“You’re not a child! Why do you always use that as an excuse?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. His eyes seemed to harden, going from a summer sky to a winter frost.

“I’m not ready, or are you too blond to get that? We’ll have kids and a house in the suburbs and all that junk, I promise. But it’s too soon,” His voice was steady, but if I know Fay (and believe me, I do) anger was just under the surface of his flawless skin.

“I don’t have the time to wait for you to grow up.”

“I’m not asking you to! You go find yourself a real man and have your emotionally stunted kid, I’m outta here,” Fay ran upstairs and I watched him go, tears pricking my eyes.

I didn’t mean to hurt Fay, it’s never my intention. Fay hides behind his innocence and naivety because he’s scared of being hurt by people who don’t understand him. There I was, hurting Fay because I refused to understand. I wanted a baby so badly that I almost drove away the only person I wanted to have a baby with.

Two minutes later, Fay came thundering down the stairs, wearing his blue frock coat (it was his favourite one, it had black lace trim) and with tears streaking his eyeliner.

“Fay, wait…” I reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked out of my reach.

“Get away from me,” He hissed, before slamming the door on his way out.

The morning sun was just rising over the Los Angeles skyline and I was still sitting up waiting for Fay to come home. His cell phone had been switched off all night. I was, to put it mildly, worried sick.

I had been thinking of how to apologise to Fay. I loved him more than anything and if he wanted to wait, then I would. When he came home, I’d just have to be honest.

Then there was the small matter of making sure he was ok. I could only wonder where he’d slept the night before (Fay doesn’t carry cash or credit cards, he’s always losing them). Michael and Adam would have told me if he was over there with him, so for all I knew, he’d slept on the streets.

Just after seven, the door opened and Fay walked hesitantly into the house. He looked like he’d lain awake all night, his wonderful eyes ringed with smudged eyeliner. He was trembling all over, like a naughty child.

“Hey beautiful,” I smiled softly at him, hoping he’d smile back.

He promptly burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry,” He cried, allowing me to pull him close.

“Oh Fay, don’t cry,” I ran my fingers through his hair (he loves it) and kissed both his cheeks.

“I love you Dave, I love you so much,” He sobbed. “Please forgive me, don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t,” I whispered. “It’s alright Fay, it’s all ok.”

About nine and a half months later, things stopped being ok. In fact, they ended up being very far from ok.