We all have demons inside who wait for the perfect moment to come out.

-THEO

Caleb Parks' POV

Twenty-five years ago, I was born.

Twenty-five years ago, I was abandoned in an orphanage home with no last name.

Twelve years ago, I was adopted and taught the real meaning of family.

Eight years ago, I got the chance to be a big brother to Abigail.

Seven years ago, I watched the people who gave me their last name, who took me in, who showed me what it's like to be in a place where you are loved, die right in front of me on my graduation day.

On my birthday.

I was never supposed to be happy.

The world has done nothing but constantly remind me that there is no happy ending in my future.

But I hate to admit that the world did pity me. It was by chance that Marcel found me that day. By choice, he took me in and offered me a deal that led me up to where I am now.

Pity.

An emotion that I've come to hate with every fibre in my body. It is the only thing people offer me when they hear my back story.

That America's favourite pop musician was indeed abandoned at birth, got bullied and almost killed many times. He had to watch the people who adopted him die before his eyes.

It's a good thing to be me.

At least I forget; I'm also selfish. I want someone to know me and not pity me but see me as a person. A guy who wants the happiness he sees in the families around him.

But that's just too good to be true. If I have learned one thing as a musician, it's that when you let strangers into your life, they break you down. Piece by piece, they come closer to seeing what makes you, you. And when they do, they leave you to continue living your life as if the two of you never met.

And the ones who dare to stay still have, that look at the deepest depths of their eyes when they look at you.

Since I can remember, my birthday is always spent with me locked away in my room. The people I call family come to check up on me every hour to ensure; that I am still breathing.

Not that I blame them, there was that one year that I almost slit my wrists. Gail walked in at that moment, demanding I sing her a song.

Gail has been the only reason I keep going. I have come to accept that I can never have a family of my own, so I can at least enjoy the one I have now.

I don't know how long I've been here. Since the crack of dawn, I have been crying my eyes out. No one has come to check up on me yet and I think it's for the best. No need to hold a party in a room that reeks of sadness.

Memories of my stay in the orphanage home and that of my adoptive parents flee into my mind. Forcing sobs out of my mouth that rocks me to my core.

I hear the door open and don't bother to look up.

Before I knew it, the pillow I was crying into was removed from under my head. I glared at the person and felt the breath leave my lungs as I saw Peyton standing there. She looked at me with a mixture of emotions, pity being the dominant one.

I felt my heart clench as waves of sadness washed over me. I was falling for the girl before me. It sucked even more because I knew I could never be with her the way I wanted to be. And it just broke me apart even more.

Before I could make sense of my actions, I dragged her closer to me, rested my head on her chest and continued to cry. I knew my tears were ruining her shirt. I want to hold her close to me, even if it's just for today. Even if after today, we would go back to strangers.

Even if I never get to experience true happiness, I want to have a taste of it. It might make me look desperate, but you can't hold out bread to a hungry man and expect him not to eat.

She stroked my hair and whispered comforting words. The tears flowing from my eyes didn't ease up one bit. I knew that if I wanted to be more selfish, I would keep her here and not care that the world may rip her away from me.

I might as well tell her what's been eating up at me. Rip the bandage off and start the tradition that occurs on this very day, bringing a feeling that's my second favourite.

Loss.

"I killed them today," I say quietly.

She abruptly stopped running her hands through my hair.

"Who did you kill, Caleb?" She whispers towards me.

"My parents, that's who," I say with a sniffle.

Peyton doesn't believe me because the next thing she says shocks me.

"How exactly did that happen?"

"It just did." I press myself closer to her chest to hide my face from her ever-so-piercing gaze.

She sighs, "You were just a child; there was no way you could be responsible for their death. Even if you were, I'm sure it was an accident."

I felt rage boil up in me as I heard the unmistakable tone in her voice.

Pity.

I rip my head away from her and scowl at her furiously. "It's true! They did die in front of me. They didn't want me. I'm just a screwup." I say.

Peyton rolls her eyes at me, "That's not true. If you think that then, how are you where you are now?"

I turned my gaze away from her, unable to meet her gaze, "You don't understand! No one does!"

She doesn't reply until she does something that surprises us both.

She gets up from the bed and walks out the door.

There she goes, my only other beacon of hope that maybe there is hope for me to have a happy future. It was too good to be true.

I flop back on my bed exhausted; the tears refuse to come back as I still feel empty and broken.

The door opens once more. I resist the urge to throw my pillow at the intruder when I see who it is.

"Get up!" I sit up and look at Peyton as she gives me a dirty look.

"Peyton, it's okay," I say with exhaustion coating my tone.

"If you so much as tell me crap, Black helps me so that I don't get the buzzes up here." She spits.

"I don't see how any of this concerns you anyway! I don't see how any of this concerns you anyway! You said it yourself. You're only here to help us with Abigail, then you leave. Leave me be and if the press decides they want to have a go in my life then let them."

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I fall back on the bed, exhaustion flooding into my veins. I knew what I just said might hurt. I know it was a lie. She may not hate me as much as a few months ago, but Peyton doesn't care.

"How about this? If you get your bummed ass from that bed and follow me to where I go, I'll answer that question you've been dying to ask."

Not this again.

"Don't you think that is getting a bit old?" I am still facing the ceiling, "You just want to sell yourself short to get me to open up and when I do, what happens next?"

I sit up and look her dead in the eye, "What happens next, Peyton? You don't just make a decade of grief vanish as if it never existed, it's not a curable disease and you're not Doc Phil." I feel my tone flatten as a determined look takes over her features. She comes closer to me and gives me one of her hands.

"Where are we even going anyway?" I look at her hand sceptically.

"It's a surprise birthday boy," She gives me a cheeky grin.

I'm surprised that her sailor-like personality has not made itself known yet. It's not like Peyton to let digs thrown at her roll off her back.

"What if I choose not to go?" I take her hand and still don't let up my critical eye.

"Then I will allow the hoards of strippers waiting outside this building into your room and I will lock you up in here with them."

There was a deadly glint in her eyes, it told me that she would go through with that threat if need be.

"Fine, I'm up." Ever since that incident in the supermarket, getting groped by a bunch of girls or in this case, sexually dressed women is the last thing on my bucket list.

She grins, "Thank heavens you agreed. There are clothes in your bathroom, go take a quick shower and change."

Before I could respond, she was already pushing me into the bathroom.

One quick shower later, I was donning on a black hoodie, blue skinny jeans and a pair of converse.

I come out and meet her texting on her phone. She sits up and smiles.

"Now, you look more like a twenty-six-year-old. Come on." She slipped her hand into mine. It felt good like it was supposed to be there.

She pulls me out of the room, into the hallway, onto the stairs and into the elevator. The house looked deserted.

"I feel obliged to ask, where is everyone?"

Her cheeks redden as she shrugs off the question, "Busy doing stuff."

The elevator dings as we walk into the roof. This place houses Jacob's secret garden.

The flowers looked well cared for as a subtle smell of honey wafted past my nostrils. The most eye-catching thing was the blanket and pillows spread on the floor.

"Is this some sort of intervention?" I sent an amused brow in her direction.

"Intervention, counselling, shoulder cry session. Whatever you want to call it suits me perfectly. Now sit." Peyton instructs and pushes me towards the blankets.

I sit on one and cross my legs while I wait for her to join me.

I hear her footsteps getting closer to me, "Not sure what was the drink people used in this situation, so a bottle of apple juice will have to do just fine." She grins as she sits down across from me, mirroring my position.

She set down a bottle of apple juice with two shot glasses.

"Dare I ask why we are drinking juice from alcohol-deemed glasses?" I stifle a laugh.

"Because Jack said something about it being appropriate for the occasion," She twirls her fingers in the air, "Enough about that; you owe me an explanation."

"And someone needs to teach you the prospects of being subtle." If I have to relive this moment I would prefer to be numb. "You are going to make me keep drinking until you get a valid answer, aren't you?" I looked at her.

She gasped dramatically, "Me, force people to do stuff? Never." Then she grinned, "Just so, we're clear, I still have a dozen more bottles and no bathroom breaks."

She just doesn't take no for an answer, does she?

"I never knew that you had skills in terms of blackmail." I gulp a glass of juice. She wastes no time in topping it off.

"And I never knew that your stalling skills have gotten better." She rolls her eyes and looks at me expectantly.

"You're too smart for your good," I turn away from her and inhale, "You're not gonna look at me the same way after this."

"Try me," She nudges my shoulder.

"The Parks orphanage was my first home for the first thirteen years of my life. After spending a couple of hours in the world, the people who gave me life abandoned me in the hospital.

No one claimed me. I was placed on the doorstep of the home with just my first name attached to the basket. I don't even know who named me but I think it may have been a random nurse in the hospital.

The other occupants in the home didn't like me that much so I was insulted, bullied and hit by the adults and kids alike.

I still kept pushing on that one day a couple would adopt me. Mr Peter and Mrs Carol Parks had been married for half a decade and still didn't have a child. They took me in and showed me the true meaning of family. Things got a little better; life seemed less horrible. A year before I graduated from high school, they had Abigail. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was finally getting the happy family that I had longed for.

It was my graduation day which was my birthday. Since the note that was on my basket only had my first name. The adults of the orphanage made that day my birthday, the same day there was a car crash. My adoptive parents, Gail's real parents, didn't make it out.

Only she and I did.

So the day that everyone believes is the day that I was born was the day, I lost not one but two sets of parents."

My throat felt dry and my eyes hurt because no matter how badly I thought that I would cry no tears came out.

Peyton remained motionless beside me but her mouth still managed to move, "Then how did you meet Marcel?"

"On that same day of the car crash, I was left to fend for Gail and myself. The catch was the Parks weren't all that well-rounded to take me off to college and handle Gail. Since I was trying my best to think of a solution while trying to calm down Gail, he showed up and offered me a deal.

He takes me in and helps Gail and me financially while I sing for Marci on her birthday and become a musician for Wellington records."

I let out a breath and look at her, "Now that you know why I hate this day so much, can you please let me go back to my room and forget whatever is going on and that the day should just come to an end."

I see a change in her face as her gaze hardens, "Over my favourite black dress!" She yells.

I sigh, feeling depleted about relieving the events that happened on this day.

"Peyton, if it's about giving me a gift. I'm pretty sure that being left alone in my room is better." I look at her.

She gets up and starts pacing, "You want to be left alone?" She clarifies.

I nod not even bothering to hide the sadness I try to hide from everyone around me.

"Good, if you just go with me to this last place. I promise to leave you alone from today till I leave. No awkward run-ins, no stress on both parts, just a mutual friendship that hopefully will last." I see her swallow as if it physically hurts her to say it.

I look heavenwards because I know I am not getting out of this one.

"Deal."

-

We pull up in a graveyard I haven't stepped into since the burial.

"Why on earth are we here?" I look at her from the passenger seat.

She replies to my question with a cool gaze on her face, "Remember when I said that we are both similar yet different."

I frown but nod, not knowing where she was going with this conversation.

"I killed my mom when I was younger. Not in literal terms, there was a problem and the blood left in her system was only going to be enough for one of us to make it. She chose to kill herself and let me live.

My father was partially good at the beginning but as the years rolled by; he would get violent toward me and always preferred my sister.

I tried my best not to allow her to go through the horrors I went through. Here I am still doing it and I can't help but feel that I am failing miserably.

I do regret one thing though," She turns to look at me after telling me a bit about her past.

"I never got closure to grieve for her because I never met her. Even though Dinah and my best friend's mother tried to fill the void, it was never enough.

I'm giving you the one thing you need today, the chance to say goodbye to people who made you into who you are now and embrace what you have become. It takes a lot of courage to fight off your demons. I should know I'm still in the battle."

I nod at her and she nods back.

At this moment, I feel like she is the only one that understands me. She knows what it's like to want a family but to have it ripped out from your palms before you even enjoy the feeling.

She knows we can't be selfish and keep sacrificing for the people we love.

She cuts off the engine, we walk into the graveyard. As we near the headstones, the weather starts growing colder and more for her benefit. I drag Peyton closer to me and intertwine our hands.

We reach the headstones and for some odd reason, I see them. I see Peter and Carol standing before their dead bodies.

I feel Peyton squeeze my hands once again and step away. I miss her warmth but I know it's for the best.

I have to get over my demons.

'You need the right person beside you, to get over your demons.'

I fall to my knees, let all the tears out and start talking.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything. From putting up with me when you brought me home till that day of graduation. I know that I might be a screwup but I know that you guys are watching both Gail and me. I will always protect her and will tell her when the time comes.

Someone once told me that I needed to face the facts sooner than later and let the pain go. I just needed the right person with me for when I eventually did. I hope one day I'll be able to have a family of my own that could have the same amount of love that you both gave me.

Maybe when all of this is over, I would see you on the other side." I press my fingers to my lips and kiss them, and then I press them to the gravestones.

I turn around to face Peyton to see her shivering from the rain and the cold. I wrap my hand around her and pull her closer to me as light tears cover my face despite the rain.

The rain drenches us and I welcome it. I feel light after saying all that but I feel better that I did it with someone ready to catch me when I fell.

The rain was getting heavier, but that didn't stop Peyton and me.

She wrapped her hands around me and squeezed me back with just as much force, letting me know she is here for me.

I pull away a bit and look down at her; I tilt her chin and look into her eyes. Her eyes glistened with tears in the rain.

The rain was not letting up as I saw two white figures standing at the entrance of the graveyard.

I recognized them.

Peter and Carol.

Hand in hand, they waved at me and walked out of the gates and into thin air.