Teen Ink

I walked casually down the streets of London, whistling gaily as I went, hands jammed deep into my pockets. I was in no hurry to return back to the brothel, and I took full advantage of the fact that even if I arrived an hour late, my employer Mr. Lexin could not beat me to death. I suppose that there was one thing I could thank God for in my life – that he had graced me with a perfect body. He had screwed up the rest of me but he had at least given me that.
As I rounded another corner, I thought of Lyndon, my twin brother, my other half. He was another card I played against my boss – for while I was blessed with the looks of the perfect roguish devil, Lyndon commanded the appearance of an angel. All he lacked were the feathery white wings. Mr. Lexin positively adored him and were he ever to lay a hand against me, Lyndon would put up a righteous fit because I was his adored twin brother.
The brothel was nearly in sight. I wove my way through the crowds easily as you please, for they paid me no attention. No matter how safe I was from a beating, I still was not excited about any other form of various punishment – especially a lecture. In fact, I think that getting beaten half to death was preferable to getting lectured by an aging, overweight man so gay that if he jumped into the air he might float.
I was just steps away from the brothel door. A thought crossed my mind – not for the first time ever – that I might run away. Just turn around, take off, and he’ll never find you, he may not even care enough to look. Then reason popped up, as always, to chastise madness by pointing out that I had no talents other than what my current profession required, and that with no talents comes no job and no job means no bread. And bread, as we all know, is essential for life. You may not have much of one, Lucius, but you’d like to continue it anyway.
I was still turning over both possibilities in my mind by the time I reached the doorstep. Too late now, but if your boss ever lets you see the light of day again, perhaps you will have the guts then.
That’s what I always told myself in the end, but every time I walked out the door, I felt myself coming back exactly the way I came. Face it, Lucius; you’re too much of a coward to run.
I sighed, and my hand reached out to grab the lever, but it jerked downward and the door swung open as if knocked in by some violent wind. And there stood Mr. Lexin, in all his glory, the brightly colored robe thrown about his shoulders and the matching purple veins of his neck sticking out and racing. He really was going to blow a blood vessel, one of these days.
“You are late,” he growled, as deeply as he could.
“I am,” I agreed. I moved to take a step past him, but he blocked my way.
“I am sure you charged your client for the extra hour?”
“I always do,” I replied, somewhat irately. I was tired, I was ready for bed. He held out his hand, ready to accept my supposed hefty collection. With an annoyed sigh, I drew the money from my pocket and thrust it into his hand. He felt the purse’s weight, and then satisfied, he pocketed it himself and stepped aside to allow me in.
“Your brother is waiting on you,” his voice had softened at the mention of Lyndon. “He missed you while you were away.”
I merely nodded, having already guessed that my brother was waiting in my room, and trotted up the stairs without another word. If I was to be punished at all, it was obviously meant to wait. Or perhaps I wasn’t to be punished…the money I brought in had perhaps saved me, this time.
I made my way down the hallway, past the many rooms that preceded mine. Some with open doors, some with closed doors that shielded things human beings were not meant to witness. I then passed through to another set of stairs that led to a final set of rooms, which were mine, Lyndon’s, and mother’s. Our rooms were in the attic, because I liked isolation and Lyndon had separation anxiety. And Heaven knew that if mother didn’t have someone to watch her then she’d probably stumble down the stairs and break her neck. I loved her – who could not help but love her? – but she was crazy, her mind as well as her beauty was deteriorating slowly with age. I rapped sharply on the door just once to alert the others of my presence. I heard the pounding of bare feet running across the wood floor, and I was barely through the doorway before I was smothered in a huge, welcoming hug.
“You’re home!” Lyndon exclaimed breathlessly, his cheeks flushed and warm as I rained a series of light, feathery kisses upon them. “I’ve been waiting for you all this time!”
“All this time?” did my obvious cowardice in refusing to run away subconsciously spring from the desire to once again see Lyndon? To never be the reason that tears sprang to his eyes, as they surely would once he received news that he would never see me again?
“Yes,” he punctuated the statement with a vigorous nod. “I missed you!” he looked up meltingly, his dark azure eyes suddenly becoming pools of sorrowful emotion that threatened to pull me in and hold me captive. I kissed his forehead and tangled my fingers in his white-blonde hair, which was just an inch shy of my own length and soft as feathery down. He was and always had been the prettier twin.
“Why were you so late?” he broke the spell with his words, eager to keep up a conversation. “
“I was arguing with myself,” I explained. “Wondering whether or not to run away.”
He gasped. “Luci! Why would you do that…? Have I done something to make you unhappy?” a look crossed his features as though he might cry. I couldn’t bear it.
“No,” I said rather sincerely. “In fact, you are the only reason I stayed. If not for you I would have run away a long time ago and taken my chances with starvation.”
“Why? We have a perfectly good life here…”
“You have a perfectly good life here. Let us face it; being what we are is not the life anyone would wish for their children or for themselves. You know how often mother has told us that! And look what happened to her.”
He paused, thinking about it. Mother had tried to shield us from the evils of the world as long as she could, but in her line of work, the evils of the world approached us all too soon. She had told us continuously as if it were an apology, that she wanted more for us, that if she could she would supply us with everything we needed to make a better life for ourselves, but she didn’t have the resources to do that even for herself, or even find the courage to get rid of us as she should have and saved us from this miserable existence…
I tell you, nothing makes for a happier childhood than your mother telling you that if she had the courage, she would have gotten rid of you long before you had even entered the world.
“But…we love mother,” he said helplessly at last. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, who wouldn’t want this life? But of course, he had been spoiled and coddled all his existence. There’s always the black sheep amongst siblings, and I was definitely it.
“Yes, we love her,” I said, falling back against my bed, stretching to relieve my limbs of their ache. “but that doesn’t mean I love how my life is going right now, or the fact that she brought us here when we were children, rather than put us up for adoption.” I rolled over on my stomach and placed my chin in my palm, staring up at him. He looked down at me, his childish face confused and bewildered. He still did not get it, he probably never would. Like trying to explain color to the blind.
“I won’t run away,” I reassured him. He beamed at me, happy once more, and sat down beside me. He ran his fingers through my hair, in the same manner I had run mind through his, and a bemused expression crossed his face.
“I love your hair,” he said, it was almost a whisper.
“Yours is prettier,” I told him, it was the truth.
“But yours is like liquid metal that God took and spun into something fine and airy, and it glitters whenever you hold it close to candlelight.” He traced his index finger down the bridge of my nose. “Your eyes are the truest blue I’ve ever seen, like God took out the very blue of the sky and used it to color your irises. And your lips…” his finger came to rest on my lips. “is a perfectly kissable cupid’s bow.” He ended this statement with a quick kiss on my ‘perfectly kissable’ lips.
“I love you,” he whispered, his words tickling my ear. “Perhaps more so than you could ever love me back. But…” he licked his lips. “Don’t even run away, Luci. I shall die if you do.”
I knew he was telling the truth. For if there was something Lyndon never did, it was lie, especially to me. I turned my head and we locked gazes, his azure eyes sparkling with open, honest sincerity. I touched his cheek lightly, not being able to help a smile.
“I love you too,” I replied softly, and meant every word.