Somber was the night, its impenetrable silence a cavity of daunting fortitude. The moon, a barren cravenness, rested her sullen bosom behind the blanket of clouds, timidly peeking abreast when the wind did bellow. Her ethereal presence was a magnificence in itself to withhold, yet tonight, dimmed was her glow, the hue of her blushing cheeks subdued as the night progressed. Neighboring stars surrounded the celestial, acting as though guards to her being. Unlike their orbital, however, such wardens were brash, burning from within with the urge to illuminate. Haughtily, they twinkled, mirth igniting the shadows of their cores as they brought light to the sky. Yet the vaporial bodies were harsh in their coverage, and soon they, too, had brought the stars to an obscurity. A veil of darkness cast itself over the nightly canvas.

Beneath this otherworldly warring of wills, life upon the earth was passive. Occupants of the small town of Franklin had passed into their states of rest hours beforehand, heads sunk into the embrace of pillows and bodies entangled in thick duvets. Rodents and avians of nocturnal nature, notwithstanding their presence, too seemed to hush beneath the skyward oppression, movements lethargic and lacking of normal luster. Only, it appeared, the wind was untame enough to disturb the veil, unbound as its counterparts to a solitary trail. Wild was the tempest, spurred only by greed and, to a degree, resentment. It ruffled the shadows with passing, trees and shrubberies tense at their involvement, whispering concerns that merely died with the breeze. Even in the presence of such arrogance, however, disturbances were brief and slight, holding no power over the tranquility of the night.

Reprobate were the shadows that grew from such harrowed conditions. Gauntly tendrils wrapped ominously around the crumbling brick of aged townhouses and city halls, flashing through open windows and surrounding mounted silhouettes with fervor. Only rooftops withheld any opposition to the eclipse, the moon’s heavenly perch daring to promote clarity upon these surfaces through her own light; Clarity in the exaggeration of the depravity found within the night. One such perch proved unique in its approach from its brothers, however. As the others presented, there was little of significance in its appearance, the building below succumbed in a relentless pitch, yet a modest gleam reflected the shifting of life upon its rooftop brick, glinting passionately through poised and alert eyes.

The silhouette was positioned against the rusted base of an ancient air filtration system, body tempted forward, head tilted up, as though gravity had yet withdrawn to have the form lifted into the sky. A brief repase shuffled the clouds, granting the moon reprise. Basked in the luminescence of a midnight glow, the silhouette was exposed to be a boy, a teenager pressing the end range of his adolescence. His name was Ace, a Davidson of missing origins, whose residency permeated the abandoned warehouse of the BrickHouse Barbershop. The teenager shuffled, easing his stiff form with a contented sigh.

Ace had been in the state of homelessness since the age of 16, but in indignation had evaded the presented provisions of the state of Virginia, choosing instead to indulge himself by his own means. A backdrop character, he had found it easy to escape the investigations of the police force and protective services, and with the anniversary of his 18th year arriving in a month’s time, knew that their intimidating presence would soon be naught. Still, he took the utmost care in maintaining his secrecy, unwilling to risk the life that he had so carefully structured. Withstanding its disheveled appearance, the complex upon which Ace rested was home, and he much preferred to entertain its use till the time was appropriate. His gaze instinctively scoured the surrounding vicinity, assuring himself of his solitude.

The hour as it was, Ace’s eyes possessed an unsatisfied droop, and he grimaced as a yawn broke from his chest. Restlessly, the adolescent wiped at his face, the action meant to inspire alertness, yet procuring only sorrow as his hands returned noticeably damp. Ace’s shoulders slumped. Tilting his neck, understanding well that he would be graced with stiff posture come the morning, he gazed up at the sky, letting the tears express themselves noiselessly. A small patch of stars was visible, unrestrained behind vaporious gatherings, and the teen scowled. To Ace, the stars had been a source of comfort for the last two years, unchanging and brightly casting their levity around with bold incaution. They were a symbol of strength in the face of hardships- for what star did not endure the constant badgering of orbital productions- and yet, tonight, they withered. It was an offense, one which Ace was strained not to take personally.

Deflating, Ace rolled onto his side, determined not to linger on the depression of his inspirations. Long ago had he learnt not to dwell on such emotions, and instead, inhaling deeply, granted the promotion of his feelings into his mind. Peering through one eye, Ace swept up a notebook that had rested silently at his heel, catching the pencil that slipped from the bindings with practiced ease. A passing gust assisted in his endeavor, fluttering the paper until a random page was selected foremost. The words, impossible to read in the darkness, spoke clearly to Ace’s mind. They were his own, of course- the product of his musings and restless nights- those which currently permeated the tissue of his brain. Lip caught across his lower jaw, a pencil clasped tightly between his fingers, the adolescent scribbled out a new line.

Lyrics flowed across the page, the melody conjuring itself through the silence. Passion took the place of aggression; contentment the place of regret. There was little doubt as to why Ace construed the night-time as his favourite moment; Inspiration was an easy target to mark in the solace of nocturne.

A hushed groan passed through Ace’s lips as his thoughts turned to the morrow, pencil pausing where it scratched. Sunday it was, the morning would highlight the advent of a new week, a period of educational torture in which Ace would be forced to attend the Franklin Institute of Academic Integrity- the Hawk Nest, as it was so aptly named. Unfortunately, in his efforts to maintain a life of secrecy from the government, Ace was forced to attend school, a measure of diverting attention from himself and disarrousing suspicions should he be noticed around town. The manner of intellect proved no burden upon Ace, and he was assured repeatedly of his A+ status, however, he struggled to connect with those labelled his peers, and often found himself the centre of disparaging conversations and outward frustrations. More than once, he had returned to his warehouse with the markings of bruises upon his face, bloody noses to contest.

It did not bother Ace that he lacked the company of his peers. It was easier that way, as there was no one to delve too deeply into his personal matters, and, as per his reasoning, having no one to care about meant his own heart was broken less, saving him unnecessary emotional turmoil. No, it was better to be alone; that didn’t make dealing with the antagonists any less of a frustration, however. Ace eagerly awaited the day in which such characters would bend beneath him, their persons no more than college dropouts and diploma rejects while he fulfilled company demands executively. The satisfaction would certainly delight Ace’s inner devions.

Mood beginning to once again disparage itself, Ace shoved himself to his feet, automatically crouching and ducking his head to hide lest anyone walking below glance up. It was unlikely, the night setting in full swing, a stale silence permeating the air, but habits were difficult to break, and possibilities were always a risk. A hum reverbing through his mind, the teen gently clamored down the metallic stairwell that clung to the brick. His footsteps were expertedly placed, avoiding the spots that creaked and wailed, and soon he found himself crawling through the open space of a broken window, quickly covering the opening with a broken wooden panel.

Dusting off his palms, Ace granted his eyes a moment to adjust to the new darkness, heavier, if possible, than that which was found outside. His “home” was as welcoming as the day Ace had fallen upon it, its interior stagnantly warm and dry, a feat which instantly heightened the extent of weariness that plagued Ace. He staggered, having to grip onto the stability of a nearby countertop in order to regain his balance. Shaking his head, he found that his feet had automatically crept forward, leading his body methodically through the twisting trap of dust-ladened white sheets and furniture. A narrow hollow opened before Ace, and he immediately fell to his knees, crawling into the alcove- simply the underside of an open barber’s bench, its backboard presented in a way in which onlookers from the front of the store would be unable to see anything hidden within or beneath.

A cradled supply of blankets lay scrunched across the floor, offering comfort as a barely registerable carpeting and cover. With stiff movements, Ace shrugged the only jacket he possessed over his head, dropping it down into a pillow. Setting his notebook aside, he let the blankets wrap around him, their light-weight comforting with familiarity. Months of sleeping on the tiled floor had eased the discomfort that raised from the hard surface, but it still left his bones aching in the morning hours following. Ace’s eyes drifted, scanning the room for a final time before shutting. He sighed, arms wrapping around his midsection in a comforting embrace, shivering softly. Almost instantaneously, he passed into a deep slumber.

~~~

The night passed by swiftly, and soon enough the sun was breaching the darkness, illuminating the sky in a vibrant display of pastel pinks and purples. Ace shifted, groaning when his bones popped, stiff from their tensed position throughout his period of rest. He had long ago trained his body to rise with the sun, such that he would be mobile and alert in case anything were to happen in the early hours, however, his late excursion had left him significantly more exhausted than normal, and he struggled to shove himself up. Ace yawned widely, wiping at his eyes to remove the sand that had built up. He blinked, gazing around at the warehouse, discerning that all was as it had appeared last night.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Grumbling, the teen crawled out of his space, stuffing the blankets into a corner where they were less-likely to be spotted, and stood, stretching. He tossed his jacket across his shoulders, the atmosphere too warm to wear the article for the moment, and stepped across the room towards a series of cabinets and sinks. It was a matter of grace that, as old as the buildings were, they all shared one pipeline, and as such, access to clean water was easily available for Ace. He made sure never to use a noticeable amount, lest the neighbouring businesses grow suspicious, but as per his morning routine, ducked his head beneath a spout to give the impression of showering. The chilliness also provided a way to awaken himself further.

There was little that could be done about his clothes, Ace knew. Thankfully, he did not sweat much, and the temperature had remained steady enough that heat did not strain the fabric; still, the material was tightening almost uncomfortably against his skin. Ace was skinny, more so than he should have been for his age, but the clothes continued to shrink against his growing form, and he lacked the funds to purchase new attire. With a sigh, he realized that he would have to make a nighttime trip to a donation centre soon, a feat that left him uncomfortably nervous and tense, fearful that he would be recognized or caught on camera. He had been putting aside the task, his last venture nearly costing him all that he had worked for.

It had been months ago, and even then, Ace had waited until the clothes were but rags across his flesh before attempting to garner new fabrics. He had just crawled out from the dumpster, easily sliding out of the grate, when a voice had called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Who’s there?” A flashlight had shone across Ace’s face, blinding him momentarily, but he had briefly caught the features of the man before him, and with an armful of clothes, had fled, too terrified to speak, even as the voice called for him to stop. That had been during the summer months, and Ace had successfully avoided spotting the man again, always watching over his shoulder, until the advent of his senior year, when he had walked into the math classroom to find a familiar pair of eyes gazing at him concerned. He had fled then too, once the class had ended, fearing that the teacher would call him out, but it seemed that the man had vowed to keep quiet on the issue, and as of yet had not even attempted to speak to Ace.

The teen shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he flicked away the excess water that ran down his neck. No good would come from dwelling on the past. Instead, he straightened, opening a nearby cabinet and dragging out an aged backpack, empty apart from a few scattered papers and pencils. Ace shoved his prized notebook into the bag, along with his jacket, and then trailed the stairway until the broken window presented itself. He climbed out, landing silently along the pavement. Ducking his head, Ace crept around the side of the complex, running his hand across the crumbling brick before rapidly advancing upon the sidewalk, striding pointedly towards the direction of his school. In this part of town, the buildings all lacked any security measures, and so he never had to fear cameras catching him sneaking around, however, cops would occasionally patrol the area with eyes scanning for signs of trouble.

No cars or passersby presented themselves, the day too early for activity. Only the songbirds that perched in the bushes showed signs of alertness, their swoons lightening the air with beautiful melodies. Ace grinned; It was the perfect time for solitary thought. He strolled, undisturbed, until his feet crossed from concrete pavement to the rocky outcrop of a railroad. Here, he paused, warily eyeing the surroundings. These tracks too were aged, and predominantly abandoned, however, the occasional cargo load would sometimes silently cross from one station to another without warning. Seeing no signs of activity, Ace transversed the tracks, pleased when he safely made it to the pavement once more.

The outskirts of the town soon gave way to the bustling commercial region, lacking its normal lunchtime flood, but filled with stallmen setting out their wares for the day. A few of them nodded to Ace in good humor as he passed, but the majority either ignored him or chose instead to glare at his disheveled appearance, fearing delinquency. Ace wasn’t bothered; he understood their concerns, and in an effort to ease them, evaded their stalls with passion. A few of the common salesmen called out to him as he passed, greeting him with recognition alighting their eyes. These Ace politely returned, but then swept quickly away from. Recognition could be dangerous to someone such as himself.

It wasn’t long until the ‘Hawk Nest’ presented itself, the empty parking lot spanning a space far too large for its usual occupancy. Ace automatically tensed as he entered the open gates, prepared for assaultants to come springing towards him. Thankfully, it appeared as though the bullies had yet to make it to the location, and Ace relaxed slightly, making his way towards an aged tree in the front courtyard.

To an outsider, the institution would not immediately arouse the viewpoint of a school: The building had initially been built as a community hall for the town, but with the rising population had been transformed to meet the needs of the people. Office spaces had been expanded to perform as classrooms and break-rooms. Larger sections, originally denoted for judgement stations, now rose as study halls and assembly rooms. A long walkway corralled its way to the overarched entranceway, lined by oversized flora that presented the perfect hiding place for individuals seeking to harm, while out back dumpsters and metallic fences provided students and teachers alike escapes to smoke.

Ace plopped to the ground with a groan, glancing at the towering bricks before him, back cowed against the rough bark of the tree. To him, the place was nothing more than a hell on earth, a reminder of what he lacked, and what others, unworthy as they seemed, were granted. He wasn’t complaining, and jealousy was an almost nonexistent emotion, but he loathed his peers for their possessions. Ace’s past was one he cared not to linger on, but he occasionally found himself reminiscing of the times when he could return to a heated house with readily available food and bedsheets. He gritted his teeth in frustration, dragging out his notebook with haste.

For minutes, the teen stared at the book, the only possession he had carried over from his past life. It was hardly anything remarkable, the faded brown casing worn and torn in numerous places, but to Ace, it represented his future and his past, his hopes and his dreams. It was his way forward, his chance at a better life, and for that reason, he had carried it everywhere, regardless of circumstance. The pages were all crinkled and dog-eared, filled to the brim with lyrics that rose from sudden inspiration, silent melodies rising from the paper. It was Ace’s diary, a composition of songs that held true to his heart, and he feared the idea that someone else might lay a hand on it.

Ace shrunk back when a shadow fell over his form unexpectedly, and hastily wiped at his eyes which had grown suspiciously damp. He flinched when he realized just how much time had passed, students already beginning to stride through the gates. Glaring up, he found an unknown male rising above him, his stance cautionary.

“Are you okay?” Ace tilted his head at the question, not prepared to answer. The other teens eyes were bright and wide, a light caramel hue that was oddly endearing against his tanned skin Ace had to admit, but experience left him wary, doubting the honesty behind those orbs.

“I’m fine.” He ducked his head, avoiding the questioning gaze.

“Oh.” The intelligent answer was returned, but the feet remained, unmoving. Ace grew irritated; the newcomer was planning something, of that he could tell, but in drawing out the potential attack, Ace was becoming more and more agitated. “I-”

“What do you want?” The words came out harsh and sullen. His eyes rose, squinting slightly when he saw the other teen frown.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” The adolescent leant back, as though to move away, but paused. “I’m Zayn.” Ace arched an eyebrow.

“So?”

“I’m new to the area, and you- you looked like you needed someone to talk to, so... I came over.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, then, do you mind if I join you?” Ace shrugged, tense, placing his backpack into his lap to cover up the notebook; He didn’t need prying eyes. Taking that as a yes, Zayn twisted until he too was plopped back against the trunk. He sighed, relaxing almost instantly, and Ace felt his heart stutter at the look of serenity that overtook the teen’s face. He looked away, a foreign warmth lighting up his cheeks. “I just moved from Colorado; it’s a lot different here.” Ace grunted, but it seemed as though Zayn was intent on carrying a conversation. “Have you always lived here?”

A stiff nod.

“Oh, that’s great then! Do you think you could show me around sometime?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why’s that?” Ace didn’t answer, instead choosing to divert the question.

“Why’d you move here?” A slight pause, but thankfully, Zayn didn’t press.

“My dad got a new job.” Zayn’ s eyebrows furrowed. “He’s planning on opening his own store in town, and there was an opportunity here, so… we moved.” Ace watched silently as the teen grew solemn before him, shoulders slumping dejectedly. It was obvious that his peer was experiencing some loss and homesickness, but Ace had no idea how to react, having never been presented such a situation before. So, in answer, he kept his mouth shut, gaze focused ahead. “Anyways- we moved onto Jefferson, right up the road from here. It’s only a short walk away.”

“I see.”

“Yeah; it means I won’t have to get a car anytime soon. Oh! Do you know anywhere that’s hiring right now? I need a job- something to do in this small town, you know?” Ace glanced to the side, frowning. There were plenty of places hiring, but they required verification of residency, usually a year at least, of that he knew, and deciding quickly, shook his head in the negative.

“No.” Zayn’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’, eyes piercing into Ace’s hunched form.

“That’s okay then.” Silence reigned then, the two teens sitting in the heated atmosphere together. “I’m bothering you.” Ace remained quiet, choosing not to reply. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Do you want me to leave?” The sadness in his voice was surprising, and for a moment Ace froze, considering. His mind screamed at him the risks- growing close was dangerous and idiotic- but something in his chest desperately wanted to know Zayn more, and he found that he could not refuse its wants. It seemed loneliness had affected him more than he had realized. Ace shook his head, secretly glad when the other teen relaxed once more.

“You know, I never got your name.” Those butterscotch orbs gleamed curiously in the sunlight. A light smile, foreign in motion, but honest in intent, forged its way onto Ace’s lips. Glancing up, he replied:

“I’m Ace.”