Date: Tue, 6 May 2003 19:36:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: Brandon Powell <Brandon@gundamwing.net>
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