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Chapter 1
Long bright blue hair, matching his eyes perfectly, which were set in a seemingly ageless face. Stylish, fashionable, fitting clothes encasing his body, which must have rivaled that of the gods he was speaking so passionatly about. He had worn his glasses today, for some unknown reason, and combined with the seemingly careless way his hair was tied back, he looked like some sort of scholarly angel to his students, or at least to one.
Jayce watched his teacher talk, perfect lips forming the words to the lecture that was barely being listened to by most of the class. Jayce knew he wasn't catching half of it, if even that much.
"..And so I'll expect the paper to be no less than 500 words. That's it. Everyone have a good weekend."
A good weekend. Yeah, right. Jayce shoved his notebook into his bag, ignoring the crumbling papers below it. A good weekend was for those rich snobs that could actually afford to pay for college. They were the ones that got the fancy cars, and brand-new books, booze, whatever they could ever want. That type tended to ignore their classes because "mommy" and "daddy" were paying for them anyway. Oh they weren't all bad, there were the ones that really did pay attention and try their best, but they had it easy too.
He pushed through the groups that decided to chit-chat after class everyday, in the same damn door-blocking spot and walked outside to his car.
Jayce threw his bag on the tattered, faded mockery of a passenger seat and turned the key in the ignition.
Nothing. Fuck.
Jayce grabbed his stuff and fell into a comfortable pace on the sidewalk; he knew shit about cars and wasn't going to even bother trying to fix it. Chris might know what was wrong with it but Chris was at home. Work was between the college and home, and he had to get to work before he was late.
Work. He supposed that was the word for it. It was money anyway, and the most he could make without taking a job that'd require more than he was qualified for. He wasn't about to give up school for a full time job either. All he had to bargin with were his looks. He threw his braid behind him as he walked briskly, not wanting to tire himself out. Jayce was good looking and he knew it, but looks were ever so much not everything in this world of money and expenses.
He'd deal with the grubby fingers of women and the occasional man who attempted to touch him while he worked, and do his best not to be drawn into the hell that his co-workers had mostly fallen into. Drugs, prostitution, these things made him sick, but that wasn't enough to keep him out of them. Chris was.
Having a little brother at home working his own ass off at an attempt to graduate and have a career of his own was a big deterrent from such things. His parents may have been assholes to throw Chris out and cut them both off when they found out he had ran to Jayce, but they had taught him that the younger siblings followed the older siblings examples, and Jayce would kill himself before he ever saw Chris doing anything to harm himself.
Chris was too fragile for such things. At nearly 16, he still possessed the round wide eyes of a child, but had already learned enough that he wasn't an innocent anymore. How he kept that wonder in his eyes, that shining curiosity and optimism, baffled Jayce. Jayce knew only one thing though; that he had to keep that sparkle from disappearing from Chris's eyes. No matter what the cost to himself.
Chris had been caught sneaking into his room late one night last November. Jayce had just left a few months before. Being caught sneaking in late was, in itself, no terribly big deal. Their parents had often caught Jayce sneaking in at some random hour. No, the big deal had been what Chris was wearing.
It's amazing what a little makeup can do to blur gender lines. Chris was delicate looking to begin with and the clothes he had chosen that night hid the fact that he was missing half the curves most girls that age usually had. He looked like a rather thin young girl in his long black skirt and sleeveless top. Makeup artfully applied to his face made him look no older than 12.
Chris wouldn't talk about what happened with Jayce. Jayce had to find out secondhand from his best friend. Chris didn't like to talk about that night. He had packed up all he could into a bag and gotten on a bus to the city, where Jayce was.
Jayce couldn't turn his own brother out, and was even more against that idea when Chris appeared on his doorstep, still in girl's clothes, blood dried onto the side of his mouth, and the makeup long since faded.
He was never one to think ahead. Jayce knew. Chris was smart but never had much common sense.
Jayce pushed the back door to the club he worked at open and went inside.
Chris sat on a flat rock in the backyard of the faded little house that he slept in and stared at the fence. The paint had peeled off the rotting wood ages ago and weeds grew up the sides. Such a lovely day, or it would be if the sky wasn't permanently dingy with pollution. That was what happened when you lived in a packed city.
When their parents had decided to stop supporting Jayce, because of Chris, Jayce found a job in a club. He swore he was a waiter, but Chris doubted that. His dear brother always liked to keep him in the dark about anything that might spoil his long lost innocence. Big brothers were supposed to be like that though, so he didn't really mind. Besides, the money for college classes had to come from somewhere.
Despite what his parents thought, he was in no danger of becoming a full-time cross dresser. They seemed to think it was such an evil thing, though. Chris wore women's clothes sometimes because it had kept people from staring when he was on dates with other boys, and he liked to feel beautiful and wanted once in awhile. The problem that kept him from dressing in a more feminine way everyday was the amount of time and money it took. It was easier to pull on an old T-shirt and a pair of jeans than to deal with skirts and makeup.
He looked up again and noticed the sky had turned that strange color of dark blue that meant night had fallen without him noticing again.
Chris walked back into the house, looking up at the bright moon visible in the sky just before shutting the door.
Jayce leaned against the sticky brick wall and took a deep breath, looking out into the night sky. He doubted he'd ever get used to this life. This was his last semester in college though, and it was almost over. Then he could forget about this job, and get a real one.
He wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead and fixed his bag so it wasn't digging into his shoulder. The strap brushed against his shirt and he felt it burn his skin slightly. Stupid cheap bookbag.
They would be here soon. No one was stupid enough to walk alone in this part of town at this hour. Anyone who did was asking for whatever ended up happening to them. Even the police avoided this area when they could. Chris would be by soon enough, with that big brute he called a boyfriend. That brute who just happened to be Jayce's best friend. Yes, my brother and my best friend fuck each other. Daily. And I begin to wonder why I haven't found myself in a mental hospital before now.
Jayce heard them before he saw them, talking, laughing, but generally minding their own business. Chris', feminine, and childish, face smiling in Jayce's direction. Jim staring at Chris for some outrageous thing he had said.
"Jayce! Glad you're done we're starv... where's the car?" Chris looked around, eyes filled with sudden confusion.
"At the college. I didn't have time to mess with it today."
"Good, you usually make things worse!" Chris smiled over-cheerfully. "Let's go get it then." He started walking toward the direction of the college, leaving the two older men to catch up.
"He's insane." Jayce muttered.
"You know...that's why I like him." Jim replied.
"I know."
Chris stopped at an alley, Something was not right; not moving but not right. He peered into the half darkness, not daring to go in for fear of being caught by some terrible person. He knew there were men and women around here that waited for the chance to grab young people around his age.
He caught the smell of garbage instead. "Hey guys?," He caught a glimmer of blue. "What's that?....Hey Jayce...that person has hair just like those drawings of your teacher...."
Jayce jumped slightly. He didn't know anyone knew about those. "Let me see." He dragged Jim with him a few steps into the alley. "Oh fuck..." Jayce stumbled towards the unconcious man.
Winter woke up in a bed, not his bed, and froze for a moment, trying to figure out where he was.
Scratchy sheets.
Rock hard bed.
That smell.
He opened his eyes to look at the muted colors of the hospital room, waiting for them to focus.
I get myself into the most interesting messes.
Winter looked around the room. Sunlight shone through a window on the other side of the room. There were monitors next to that. He hadn't the slightest idea what they meant. The room was relativly bare besides these things and a single chair and small table.
There was an IV in his wrist, dripping god knows what into his blood. He looked for the button to call the nurse, found it, and waited.
And waited.
Stupid hospitals.
"Sir?" A timid young nurse looked in the doorway.
"How did I get here?"
"Well I assume you were brought here by someone but I'll ask for you. Is there anything you need?"
"To know what's wrong with me? What day of the week it is?" Winter rolled his eyes, and winced. Check. One black eye. The nurse nodded and went to ask, ignoring his question of the date.
Winter closed his eyes, it was probably some sort of painkiller they were giving him, but even after sleeping, he was tired. "Oh, you're awake!"
Winter opened one eye and looked toward the door again. A man he recognized as one of his students was leaning on the doorway. "Wow, you look even worse cleaned up."
Winter mumbled a curse towards the man, whose name he really couldn't remember at the moment. "S'great luck my brother saw you sitting there...You'd probably still be out there, dead by now I imagine, if he hadn't. The doctor said you're going to be okay, so I'm going home but- here." He placed a slip of paper with a phone number on the small table next to a phone that Winter hadn't noticed. "I know you don't have your work stuff here to have my number, and probably don't even know my name. If you need some sanity, call. I hear they'll make you drink decaf here." The cheerful man made a face and then smiled brightly.
"I..."
"Oh no need to thank me! I like helping people who are hurt! See ya!" The man was gone from the doorway.
Just who the hell was that?
