Date: Tue, 6 May 2003 19:36:50 -0700 (PDT) From: Brandon Powell Subject: Happiness- Part 1 Disclaimer: This story is 100% fiction. Do not read this story if you have problems with homosexuality or teenage happenings. If you are under age I would recommend that you use caution when reading this story as to not get yourself or the author in trouble. All characters and or places are fictional and copyrighted to the author and cannot be altered, reproduced, or used with out his expressed permission. Send any responses to Brandon@gundamwing.net the author would love to hear from you. Chapter 1 The Tears The Morning The Air The Soft Light The Bed The Body The Clock The Sound The Stir The Hand "I don't want to get up," thought Lacey to himself, as he pulled his hand back from the top of his black alarm clock. It was brandishing the anathema of all number configurations 7:10 and it was staring right at him. He sat there for a few minutes in bed fighting back the tears that were starting to come to his eyes. "Why do I have to go, I feel so lonely and horrible," he thought to himself "So lonely, helpless, and fucked up yet, I have to go because I can't miss any more days," he said sighing. He pulled his black comforter down and exposed his smooth chest to the air. As he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up he felt a breeze go across his hole. He shivered and was once again thankful that he sleeps in the nude. He walked through his bedroom and stepped into the linoleum territory that is his bathroom. He walked over to the toilet, and reached down and took a hold on his soft penis by the base which was embedded in soft curly brown hair. As he started to pee he realized that he didn't flip open the seat like most guys would have. "I must be the only guy who doesn't flip up the seat, but then again I don't think it really matters," he said to himself jokingly. Once he finished, he reached down and pushed the handle to flush the toilet. He moved over to his shower next to the toilet and opened the clear shower door with his hand. As he opened the door he reached in and twisted the nozzle to the correct degree of heat (after all he had been doing this for a while, shouldn't he be precise about it?). As he waited for the water to get hot he looked at himself in the mirror. "I am so pale and god my achne has gotten terrible," he said as he looked at his face with his short light brown highlighted hair going everywhere. As his green eyes went over the achne on his face his body was becoming even paler in the light of the bathroom, his skinny and feminine frame staring back at him. Realizing the shower was now hot he stepped in and closed the door. While trying to adjust the heat (he wasn't precise after all) he reached up and turned on his shower radio popping up the digital numbers of 92.1. "I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket and a comb up his sleeve just in case," Shania Twain sang as Lacey rubbed shampoo into his hair while singing to the song. The water dripped down his smooth back side as his hips moved in perfected motions he referred to as `shower dancing.' "I must look so ridiculous dancing in my shower like this - or really queer," he giggled to himself. Washing the shampoo out of his hair, and starting to rub himself down with Dove body wash. As he rubbed his face he thought, "I wonder if anyone I know is thinking about me or do they ever?" He opened the shower door and stepped out onto the white towel on the floor, grabbed his towel off the hook and reached behind himself to turn the shower radio off. Lacey rubbed the towel through his wet hair then down across both his shoulders and over his chest, into his light pubic hair, and underneath his smooth balls. Once he was finished drying off he grabbed his deodorant off the counter and walked into his bedroom grabbing his lotion at the same time. He picked out what he wanted to wear from his closet: some nice fitting Express pants, and a light blue American Eagle shirt. Once he had his clothes picked in order he started applying lotion to all the cracks and crevices of his smooth little body. When he completed this meticulous procedure he slipped on a pair of black boxer briefs which cupped his ass very tightly. Then he pulled on his pants and opened his deodorant bottle. Lifting up his left arm he applied the blue clear liquid to his smooth elegant under arm then the same to the right. Once he had all his clothes on he put on his socks and his black boots. These took him from 5'5 to 5'6 which he enjoyed thoroughly. After doing his hair he turned his cell phone off and placed it in the book-bag he slung over his shoulder before grabbing his car keys and walking outside. His neighbor Mrs. Hutchinson was on her porch. She looked at him without him knowing and thought to herself, "God that boy is so beautiful and feminine, makes me feel bad for some girls I know." Lacey stopped by his car, stood still, and closed his eyes. Fighting back tears he said to himself, "It's gonna be ok just one day at a time you'll be ok, just one day." He pressed the unlock button on his key to his silver 4Runner which his Dad had bought him several years after his parents had divorced. He climbed in and pulled out of his house heading for school. White Beach High School, South Carolina came into view as the final lyrics to Alanis Morissette's "Thank U" went by. It was Lacey's favorite song and had helped him get through a lot of days. Pulling into the student parking lot, he noticed many anonymous faces of people he's seen daily for almost three years. Yet, what lies behind those faces he drew a blank. Even after all this time, they were still enigmas to him. Locking the car he grabbed his book-bag and slung it over his shoulder while grabbing his literature and U.S. history books. Holding them in his arms, almost like he was shielding himself, he had no zealous feelings for walking through those doors into school. He walked down the covered walkway that leads to a side entrance of the main building. White Beach was a new high school recently built before Lacey's arrival which was only three years ago. It was a deep dark red brick building mixed with white. The school was made up of different buildings and sections all connected by covered walkways. The main building, being the largest, held the main office, gym, cafeteria, and theatre. Lacey walked behind several other students and finally reached the metal hybrid glass doors. Upon entering the school he walked into a hall that leads to the big dome at the center of the main building. Knowing exactly where to go he headed for the English building since English honors was his first class, passing people and getting stares on his way to the English building. Lacey started to feel weird because of an aching that was creeping up his legs and into his back. He was becoming weak as if his book-bag had some how or another gained 40 pounds. Finally entering the English building he walked towards his class. Upon entering the class he saw Mrs. Smitson sitting at her desk checking papers. "Morning Mrs. Smitson," he said. She looked up and smiled at him and said "Morning to you too Lacey, how are you?" "Fine I suppose," he said while placing his books on his desk and sitting down. As he waited for class to begin he looked around at the various posters and corny cliches he had never really paid attention to on the walls. One poster had a quote from Emerson on it stating, "Hitch your wagon to a star"; Lacey chuckled at that wondering where people get these ideas from. The regular students started to walk in and Lacey's one and only friend in school, Morgan, walked into class. He came in and placed his stuff on top of the desk to the left of Lacey's. "Hey man, what's up?" "Nothing much, you look like you're stoned. What time did you go to bed last night?" "3 then I fucking woke up at 6 am." Lacey laughed as Morgan sat down and put his head in his hands, his pretty blond hair falling across his skin. Lacey was an average student who excelled in English and Social Studies. Morgan was a die-hard student and was number nine in their class of three-hundred. He was also very social and very active in clubs. He was a part of the National Honor Society "And any other honors entitled thing he can get his hands on," Lacey thought. Still he didn't know that much about Morgan except from what he knew of him at school and yet again he felt as if he was staring at an enigma. As the other students came in, someone new stepped up to the door and started carrying on a conversation with Mrs. Smitson. Lacey was immediately staring at the boy who was quite tall - probably 6'2 - and quite hot. Lacey started to feel jealous towards his beauty and sexiness; he had black hair that was spiked up with gel, tan, and a great build. Lacey looked down at his hairy tanned legs, and wondered what that black hair might lead to. The boy was wearing cargo shorts, with a black shirt, and sandals. Morgan looked up and saw Lacey staring at a very attractive guy he'd never seen in school before. "Must be new," he muttered to himself as he went back to sleep. The bell rang and the boy walked in with Mrs. Smitson closing the door behind him. Lacey watched the boy cross the room and sit in the seat directly in front of him. As the class wore on Lacey couldn't help but stare at every part of him that was exposed to view. He was just so masculine that Lacey could barely concentrate. Palmer Knight walked into his new English class on his first day at White Beach a little uncomfortable. He had just got done searching all over this huge school for his English class and talking to his teacher when he was awestruck by the beauty of a boy who was sitting one seat back from the front. He almost got an immediate hard-on in front of the whole class. He had never seen a more beautiful feminine boy. Smooth pale arms, pink lips, and beautiful light brown hair. Palmer immediately knew where he'd be sitting for the rest of the semester. Towards the end of class Lacey was writing a poem about his feelings for the English poetry project when a deep voice said, "What's your name?" Lacey didn't realize at first who it was that had just spoken to him. He looked up and saw the boy he had been lusting after, looking at him with his deep blue eyes. Lacey immediately blushed pink, but managed a response. "Umm my name is Lacey," he said. "Lacey. That's a cute name. Mine's Palmer," the boy stated. "CUTE!" Lacey thought to himself, "This guy can't be gay." "This is my first day here and I don't know anyone. So I just wanted someone to talk to and you're cute so that's more of a reason," Palmer said smiling. Lacey blushed unable to realize that he had just been hit on, yet, he was starting to feel weird about the whole situation. "I'm gay, I didn't mean to upset you by saying that - if you're straight," Palmer said. "No, I'm not straight I've just never had someone hit on me like that before," Lacey said feeling kind of dizzy. Palmer laughed and turned around and wrote on a piece of paper and turned around and put it on Lacey's desk. "That's my screen name and my cell phone number, I want you to call me," Palmer stated smiling. Yet, something wasn't right because Lacey didn't respond. He just sat there staring at the paper. Then after a few minutes he pushed it back towards Palmer. "I can't," he said in a shaky way. "I'm sorry if I offended you. That's fine, I didn't mean to upset you," Palmer said with a hint of worry in his voice. Once again it seemed as if Lacey was staring off at some foreign land, his green eyes pondering something. Lacey felt dizzy. This was too much stress and he wasn't ready for something like this. Flashing through his mind were horrifying images from the past and the terrible things that had happened to him. He shook his head trying to regain ground and with a shaky hand he said to Palmer, "I'm sorry, I just can't." Palmer took the note and turned around feeling sorry. He didn't mean to upset the boy like he did. After the conversation, the bell rang and Lacey quickly gathered his stuff and walked out of the English building towards the Social Studies building for his U.S. history class. Palmer sat there for a while most befuddled with what had just happened. While some other kids from the class walked past him, one of them stopping and staring at him. It was Sarah Brightener, later Palmer would find out that she was a very aggressive, ignorant, and religious person. "You shouldn't talk to him, he's a sin, and he'll spread Lucifer's words to you." Palmer was appalled by this remark considering how out of the blue it was. So he stood up, walked by her and said, "Well, then I guess that means I'm going to hell too," as he walked off to find his next class. The day went by quite normally for Lacey, as he endured the same classes and the same diatribe comments and stares during breaks and lunch. Once the last bell rang Lacey walked through the halls towards his car in the student parking lot. He passed by various people in the hall and he thought to himself, "Where am I in all this, how will my life ever make a difference to anyone or anything?" He passed people laughing surrounded by friends and straight guys with their girlfriends locked in arms together. Once again he felt as if his book-bag had gained another 40 pounds. He felt like he couldn't hold up anymore once he got to the parking lot door, pushed it open, and walked through. As he walked down the covered walk way he heard more whispers and diatribe sayings about him behind his head and he realized why he's not a very amorous person towards strangers. Once he got to the black pavement of the parking lot, he fumbled around in his book-bag for his keys. As he was walking to his car, some guys drove by in an old Mazda and in a fractious way screamed out "faggot" at him and gave him the finger. "Dammit," he cursed to himself as he went to go unlock the door with his keys. Then he thought he heard something behind him like a whisper, as if something was talking about him and didn't want him to know about it. It was a raspy dark and evil voice almost insect like. The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight, and as he looked up into the driver's side window he saw a face lugubrious and shadowy. He turned around quickly to face the demon, but it wasn't there anymore. He stood for a moment shaking, realizing that it was all in his mind. Then he leaned his head against the car door. "I feel like I'm losing my mind," he said to himself as he got into the car and drove off. ************************************************************ Palmer watched as Lacey's 4Runner pulled out of the parking lot. He had seen how Lacey looked when he came out of the school, so shaken and stressed. He also saw the guys giving him the finger and the mysterious enemy who Lacey seemed to believe was behind him. The whole time Palmer had such an altruistic feeling towards Lacey, he wanted to take the boy in his arms because he looked so sad. He was very worried about someone he had only known for a few hours when he got into his car to head home. Lacey unlocked his front door and stepped into his overly large two story brick house. His dad was sitting down watching t.v. and as Lacey walked into the living towards his bed room, his Dad without even looking from the t.v. said, "How was your day?" "Fine I suppose," he stated as he walked into his bed room. Thus was the way of things in the Craft house. No emotion, no connection, love yes, but not in the open because that would be "awkward" Lacey thought. Lacey felt disconnected from his family. He couldn't sit down and talk to them about emotional stuff like he could to one of his teachers or friends. "Limited friends," he thought to himself. He felt necessary to hide his feelings from them, because of the simple fact that he liked it that way. Palmer was lying on his bed at home in just a pair of pajama pants with his arms over his head. This revealed the black and dense curly hairs of his arm pits under the light of his lamp. They seemed to grow out in the craziest directions and in the thickest ways, but it only seemed to add to his masculinity. His sister walked into his room, but halted at the door. She stared at how amazingly handsome he was and how tan and muscular he'd become. He got up when he noticed her enter the room. She realized then seeing him in only pajama pants how much older he'd become. With his slightly muscular chest, six pack, nice arms, and also how he had a single line of sporadic hair that ran from his belly button down into his pants. She realized and truly believed he was going to make some girl real happy one day. "How was your first day?" she asked him. "Alright I suppose," he said while scratching his belly button and the black hair around it. "Did you meet anyone?" He stood for a moment and pondered the question and to her it looked as if he was looking somewhere far off. "Yeah I guess I did," he said. Lacey was sprawled out on his bed looking at his ceiling, feeling very much alone. "What's happening to me," he asked himself. "I feel so unhappy and depressed and I think I'm going crazy." "Why didn't I take the note?" he said to himself "Because you know you can't bring anyone into your life considering how crazy you are and after what happened." He laid his head on his pillow thinking of all the happiness people were experiencing out there without him. He was so alone and he truly felt hopeless of ever feeling any better. He moved up on his pillow and closed his eyes, and thought once more about suicide. The fan The music The dark The boy The soft breath The thoughts And the Tears