(A/N): Inspired by a conversation with a friend of mine. I don't really know where it was going, I just wrote it. Might add something to it, who knows?

Chapter 1

Hector was sure that his mother would kill him for staying out so late. But he really couldn't bring himself to care all that much. What was a seventeen year old boy doing sitting on the couch on a Friday night anyway? He was supposed to go out and have friends and go to lame parties where people puked on each other and got stupid drunk.

But that wasn't what he was doing.

And this was because he was hanging out with someone no one even knew he hung out with. He was sitting on a roof top, a roof top that wasn't even at his own house, and staring out at the trees that twined together in gnarled, bare grips on the street, watching the two dogs across the street bark at each other and half heartedly wondering what exactly that woman was watching on her TV that was flashing blue and white against the black back drop of the night. Hector was sitting with Miles Lawrence.

Miles wasn't particularly known except for the fact that he's almost every school play and he's really very good. Oh, and that he did an awesome job as the gay guy in Legally Blonde last year. Real funny guy, Miles was. But he was also known for getting brought home by the cops more than twice a year for running away. And he somehow always talked some poor sucker into trying to escape with him.

Maybe that new sucker would be Hector, he didn't know. What he did know was that it was bordering on twelve a.m. and his mom was going to throttle him.

"Maybe Germany," Miles said in that far away voice that Hector has grown accustomed to in the past year. The voice Miles uses when he's about to get ready to go somewhere. This time, though, Hector was a little worried about his friend. He never talked about going abroad. Shit, the farthest he'd ever talked about going was to California, become a movie star. Nothing about planes to other countries, for Chrissake.

Hector glanced at Miles out the corner of his eye. His yellow, feathery hair was blowing in the wind, his milky skin had gooseflesh all along it because he hadn't worn a coat or even a sweater when they'd climbed out of Miles' bedroom window onto the roof. He said it was too nice out to waste bundled up in layers of clothes. Hector had worn two sweaters just to spite the kid.

"Germany?" Hector questioned. He blew into his cupped hands and stuffed them into his pockets. "Why so far away?"

"I hate it here, Torry." Hector grimaced at the nickname but let it go. "It's so...boring. Understand? Don't you want to just leave and see the world?"

"Don't you sound like every other teenager in the world." Hector snorted. Apparently this was the wrong thing to say.

Miles crossed his legs, the muscles in his calves tightened. He threw his arm over his eyes and sighed deeply. A frown set itself on his lips. "I don't get why you have to shoot me down every single time, Torry."

"Maybe because all this talk about leaving is absolutely insane?"

"No, it's not. Lots of people think about seeing the world all the time. There are businessmen who drop everything and like, move to Uganda to help feed the poor because they realized their lives meant nothing before then."

"Oh, yeah," Hector said dryly. "Because having a family, a job and financial stability sucks ass. Real shit deal, there."

Miles wasn't amused. "You're such a fucking asshole."

Well, there wasn't much Hector could say to that. He knew what he was, didn't care if anyone else did, and life went on. So, instead of answering with a smartass comment that was just begging to be released into the cool air, he settled back on the palms of his hands and continued trying to figure out if the woman was watching WWE or some sort of porno she'd rented.

Miles didn't say anything for a while after the declaration on Hector's status in his eyes, but when he did it just made Hector want to punch him in the face and make him see sense, because this just couldn't be healthy. All this pining and wanting and needing to get away from here was only going to do him harm in the long-run. And all Hector wanted was to make sure his friend didn't get hurt. That was really all, no matter what grade of an asshole he really was.

"I'll do it." Miles said with finality. A new, harder edge to his feathery light voice. "I'm really gonna leave and I'll be too far gone for anyone to drag me back."