Chapter 1
Every day he woke up in a hot flash of something awful, fumbling to turn of the alarm. He remembered the dreams, if there were any. And tried to forget the nightmares. Then he would sit in that dark, small room and let his eyes adjust to the trickles of daylight peeking from behind the curtain. These moments used to set him off. That feeling of the years passing by and nothing changing. It was as if he could feel his body deteriorating with every passing minute. But that existential dread had slowly turned into a deep numbing sensation. Nero knew there was no point just waiting, or even running from it. You can’t fear the reaper. Or it will be all you think about.
Nero never thought he’d go to college. But if his life was going to go anywhere, he would have to seriously work on his grades this year.
“Last chance before graduating…” he thought with exasperation.
It was fall, and his last year had just about started. Two weeks in and he was already a mess. Teachers had just about given up, which annoyed him, though he couldn’t quite fault them for it. He wasn’t a trouble child by any means, he just wouldn’t put in the effort. Hell, there was barely a reason to get up in the morning. He spent his days working out religiously and attending his part time job to pay the rent. But he was turning 19 this year, and by all intents and purposes he was an adult.
An adult with no close friends and no career in sight; he though, but quickly shook it off. Only reaffirming thoughts. That’s what a therapist would say.
They were blessed with a bright fall, and the sun shone a little too brightly into the classroom that afternoon. Nero shielded his eyes to see the monitor his teacher was referring to. He realised he hadn’t paid attention for the last twenty minutes. Rubbing his eyes, he haphazardly looked around the room to his left. There by the window he met the gaze of one of his classmates. Swiftly he looked away, only to feel the other boy’s gaze still on him. He glanced back and their eyes met again. There was no alarm in the other’s eyes, instead he cocked his head and smiled slightly. Nero quickly looked away again.
That was awkward, he thought.
Nero didn’t know much about Bianco. Only that there had been some jokes about their names during first year, and that he was apparently the kid of some rich asshole. His white hair was a nice touch though. Popular with the girls. But he didn’t pay much attention to anyone these days. He constantly walked around in a daze. But having someone watch him so intently when he was used to just glide through the day uninterrupted; disturbed him. He now decided that he didn’t care for Bianco that much.
As soon as recess called out Nero bounced. He needed a smoke bad. And something else, something unspoken even in his head. He came out to the parking lot behind the building and b-lined for his personal corner. It was a narrow grass road between the school building and the two-meter wood fence surrounding the premises. A large tree provided cover from the other end. He pushed his back against the tree trunk and slid down to sit. All the leaves had turned orange and the grass was a matted brown, but the dirt was dry. It hadn’t rained for days. He slipped a cigarette from its box and gave a sigh of relief as it caught fire between his lips. It really gave him peace. But not as much as that.
Carefully he checked his wallet. It was still there. His razor blades. They were brand new, and incredibly sharp. That thought exited him, and he immediately felt a sting of guilt. Nero spun the metal between his thumb and index finger before slowly rolling up his sleeve. The cigarette was just a stump in his mouth now, and the ash fell silently between his curled-up legs. His world silenced as only the sight of his mangled flesh fell into view. Countless years of self-harm and the addiction to it all silenced his shame, and he poked his scarred arm yet again with the tip of his razor. Blood trickled from the puncture, and he shivered gleefully. It had been a whole week of abstinence, and he couldn’t wait to get home. He adjusted his pants to his growing excitement as the smell of metal tickled his nose. It didn’t take much for him to get aroused anymore.
“I have to say, I’ve never seen someone shooting up with razor blades before.” The unfamiliar voice cracked through the silence like a whip.
Nero went completely still as the colour drained from his face. It felt as if his body would cave in on itself. And as he glanced up towards the voice, he felt miles worse. He once again met Bianco’s unwavering eyes. Up close they looked completely black.
“Sorry, am I interrupting?” he tried, clearly ironic, “Pardon me, you’ve just done a fine job concealing your bad habits. I had to see if my suspicions were true. Are you okey?” Bianco smiled then.
And Nero could feel the coldness from it, the complete lack of disregard. His amusement. It wasn’t his first time in dealing with these kinds of people. He stood up, face fuming not from embarrassment, but anger.
“Fuck. Off.” Nero growled as he clenched his fists.
Bianco’s smile quickly dissipated. A shadow formed on his face and without warning Bianco hit him quare across the nose with the palm of his hand. Nero staggered and didn’t have time to react before Bianco’s kneecap was lodged in his stomach. He gasped, and fell hard to the ground, cramping from the shock. Bianco did a quick look around before pushing Nero against the brick wall of the school building.
“I asked; are you okey?” forcing eye contact once again they stared at each other. Nero coughed as blood suddenly burst from his nose.
“What the… fuck…” Bianco slowly shook his head.
“You’re being rude. I was only worried. No need to curse at me like that.” Nero was too confused to function. He looked bewildered at Bianco’s seemingly calm face.
Looking at him this closely, he saw the other teen had a picture-perfect face. Symmetrical with a sharp jawline, smooth skin, long eyelashes and white hair falling just slightly over his eyebrows. He looked too nice and clean cut to be doing something like this. But his eyes didn’t lie though. Nero was looking for emotion in them, but there was nothing. Just a vast, dark emptiness and the colour of dust.
“…sorry.” He muttered after a while. Bianco smiled slightly at that.
“I realize my reaction is a bit much. I just think it’s easier to get this kind of thing out of the way as quickly as possible. Like training dogs, you know.” Nero didn’t know. Right now, he felt like a hostage.
Bianco’s eyes drifted to his mouth. Nero stiffened as Bianco grabbed his chin and turned his head slightly to the right.
“I always wanted to ask you about this. Did you do it yourself?” Nero trembled as the other teen’s thumb trailed the massive scar on his chin leading from the corner of his mouth. It was a disgusting feeling.
“Stop.” Nero’s strangled tone somehow got Bianco’s attention, and a glimmer of something resembling sympathy crossed his face. Though it could have been curiosity.
“I see… some sort of trauma then. I’m sorry.” He finally let go and Nero let down his shoulders. He didn’t realize how tense his body had been.
His facial scar was something he could never hide. It was a deep physical trauma that still affected the way he ate. Some nerve endings had been damaged, and during winter it felt like glass had been lodged in there and kept poking his insides. Every new school he went to there was the same question: what happened. And then he would avoid everybody for a couple of weeks, and before he knew it, he was invisible again. Just the weird kid with face trauma. Too antisocial to even bully. But apparently not to this guy.
Nero didn’t realize he was crying. The tears just came and fell without restraint. Bianco looked surprised, and he crouched down a little further from his face now. Nero wasn’t sure if he just wanted a better view or not.
“Damn… and here I was just about to compliment you. But you’re an ugly crier; aren’t you?” he laughed, and Nero got the impression he was trying to lighten the mood. But he wasn’t very good at it.
“Dude, I don’t know what you want or why you’re watching me. This is private… I don’t know you, nor do I want to. Just… fuck off.” He flinched at the last part, not knowing what Bianco would do.
But the other teen just watched him silently. He had this kind of melancholy look in his eyes and abruptly he brought out a handkerchief from his pocket. Slowly, showing no ill intent, he pushed the fabric against Nero’s nose. It soaked up the blood fast.
“This might sound abrupt to you, but I’ve keeping an eye on you for a while. You have this attraction about you, did you know?” Bianco tilted his head, regarding Nero with curiosity. “I think I like you.”
Nero frowned at this confession and had no time to think it over before Bianco leaned in and pushed their lips together. The kiss was so abrupt in his confusion that it took a few seconds for Nero to compute. But when he did, he pushed the other teen with force and tried to stand. Too quickly. He stumbled, but regained his stance and took a deep breath.
“Dude what the fuck? How many times are you going to assault me today you fuckin’ freak?” he dried his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What, you’ve never been kissed before?” Bianco asked as he stood as well.
“Not by a guy!” his whole face was red now. “Just… stay away from me.” He demanded before grabbing his cigarettes and storming off.
Bianco remained where he stood for a while. He let his thumb slide across his lower lip as his smile widened into a grin.
“Oh, I really found someone interesting this time…”
