Blank Canvas

Chapter One: The Only Soquid You Can Eat With A Fpoon

AN: Luci-chan here, of course. Okay, I know I haven't finished the new "Primary Colours" yet, but I intend to. I know what I want to happen (for once), I just can't seem to make the words come out to actually write it… But it's best not to rush these things and I'm sure it will come to me soon. In the meantime, please enjoy the first chappy of "Blank Canvas", hereafter referred to as BC.

Oh, also, you should know that this is, of course, a sequel. Check in on "He Paints His World In Black And White" for info on what happened before...


For any of you who think Pennsylvania and think of cheese steak, the Liberty Bell, and Penn State, think again. I stared out the window for a full hour before we arrived at our new house and all I could see was farmland. I was going to go insane, I just knew it.

And to make matters worse, all I could think about was two nights before and Justin. Justin, with his eyes glazed over with passion. Justin, writhing under me. Justin, screaming as he came. Screaming my name…


I looked up, startled, to see Ayden's face about two inches from mine.

"Huh?" I asked stupidly. He shook his head in a slightly pitying way.

"We're here. Get out of the car," he said. I looked around. We were still surrounded only by farmland, but smack in the middle of some of the greenest grass in the known world was a ranch-style house. I sighed. It seemed like every place we moved was worse than the next.

My father being a military man, I've moved around quite a lot. My most recent home was in suburban North Carolina, in a gated community called Bridlewood. I met Justin there, scarcely a week before I moved. I never told him, but I fell in love with him, and just two days ago we had—

"Chris!" Ayden shouted.


"You keep spacing out on me. Are you going to get out or are you just going to hang out here all day?"

I climbed out of the Durango with some difficulty. I was used to just hopping into the Jeep, but it wouldn't arrive in Pennsylvania for another day or two.

"Do we at least get our own rooms here?" I asked, gazing skeptically at the ranch house. Ayden shook his head.

"You took so long to get out of the car that Levy and Nicole have already claimed their own rooms. There's only one left, so guess who gets to share?"

Sharing a room with Ayden. I hadn't done that since we lived in Nevada.

"Still, it should be fun, right?" he said with a smile. I rolled my eyes and pulled two large boxes of canvas and paint out of the trunk of the car before walking up to the house. Ayden followed me closely.

"What, you're not still strung out about that Justin kid, are you?" he asked. "I mean, yeah, I imagine he was fun and all, but is he really worth getting all upset about?"

I didn't answer him as he led the way to our room. Once inside he closed the door and approached me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his mouth on my neck so that his lips tickled my skin when he spoke.

"If it upsets you that much, I could help you forget him, you know…" he said. "I could help you to forget… like old times."

"The thing about old times, Ayden, is that they end," I said quietly and dropped the boxes I was carrying to swat his hands away from my waist. There was a knock on the door and we both jumped.

"Ayden? Chris? I need your help with the bed frames and mattresses," Nicole said. I hurried to leave the room. I didn't want to be alone with Ayden when he was in that kind of mood, because he usually won out over me.

Within two or three hours we had basically put together Levy's room (all the red and white gave me a headache from hell), Nicole's room (I dropped her monster stereo system on my foot), and mine and Ayden's room (I made sure our beds were on opposite sides of the room).

"Hey Chris, did you see your new studio?" Nicole asked, sticking her head into the room. I just stared blankly at her. We had a studio?


"Well yeah, I mean, I can listen to music and record my own in my room, and you know Levy's always typing something on his computer. Ay can go out to the garage to work on the Jeep or whatever. But if you use paints on the hardwood Mom'll kill you. Of course you have a studio."

Nicole led me out to the back deck and pointed out to a relatively large storage shed, similar to my last studio. Strangely, it interested me very little.

Our backyard was actually rather nice. There was a small pond-type body of water a ways off, a hammock and tire swing under two large oak trees, and roses all over the place. It was nice, but the colours seemed disturbingly dull, as though someone had put sunglasses on me when I wasn't paying attention.

"It's great, isn't it? You could paint it like the other one."

I looked at Nicole in surprise. I had momentarily forgotten that she was there. She sighed.

"You still haven't stopped hurting, have you?" she asked softly.

"It's only been two days, Nicky," I said with a shrug. "It'll be fine, it'll just take awhile, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess. I just don't think it can be healthy for you to dwell on it like this."

"No, not healthy at all," a voice says and we spin around to see a boy with dark, dark purple hair that appeared almost black in the evening sunlight. He had green eyes and straight white teeth that glinted as he smiled at us. He was wearing faded jeans with holes in the knees and grass and dirt stains around the bottom hems. Soft-looking brown sandals were on his feet and he wore a loose green-and-yellow tie-dye tee shirt. A hemp bracelet adorned his right wrist.

"Who are you?" Nicole asked in surprise.

"Rayne DeVonne, at your service," he said with a mock bow. "I'm your new neighbour. Just came to see what all the din and clamor and whatnot was about."

"Well, no offense, Rayne DeVonne, but what business do you have making a comment like that?" I demanded.

"Like what?"

"Like that it's not healthy to dwell on Justin?"

"Who? Don't know a Justin… know a Justine. But she's a real bitch. I don't give her the time of day, much less dwell on her."


"I don't know; why would you be talking about Justine anyway?"

"I'm not… oh, never mind. What are you doing here?"

"Talking to you. I'm Rayne, by the way."

"You already said that."

"I know, but I thought maybe if I said it again you would introduce yourself."

"I'm Chris Fresk; this is my sister, Nicole."


I looked to the spot where Nicole had been standing seconds earlier and saw it vacant. "Never mind," I mumbled. He shrugged.

"How old're you?" he asked.

"I just turned sixteen," I said. He nodded.

"Yeah… you'll be attending West Grant High on Monday, then?"

"Uh, I guess," I said. I really didn't want to attend anywhere. I wanted to lie in bed and cry. But as that wasn't an option…

"You queer?" Rayne asked suddenly.

"You have a problem with it?"

"Nah. I'm not myself, but still."

"You're straight?"




"Then what are you?"

"I'm Rayne. I thought we already went over this."


AN: I guess I'll end with introducing Airin. I know it said Rayne, but that will make sense later, I promise. And for the record, it is Sunday evening in the story.

So I have the rare occurrence of having four days in a row of having work off. I convinced Chris' muse to come back for that time (no luck on Justin, though) to help me with this story. I have to promise not to make any microwave popcorn during that time, though…

I'm going to write as much as I can during that time, but eh, who knows what will happen. I have two other stories in progress that aren't posted because I don't know if I like them. One is a slash that was originally going to be in the Snackbox. The other is my autobiography-meets-journal type of thing (as if anyone cares about that). If I have any hard-core fans who want me to post them I will, but I kind of doubt I do, other than NekoRinChan. And Rin, I'm not saying you don't count, I'm just saying that I know you read all of my stuff, not just this story.

Hmm… what else to say? Not much I guess. Oh well, please review!

♥'s and X-Rated Thoughts—Luci-chan