Lost Inside

Declan Callum came from the family everyone wished they could have. Declan grew with money, talent and smarts. He picked up his first guitar at the age of five and played pro by eight; he skipped more grades than most people are sure is not legal and he was blessed with fantastically good looks. Of course, every family has its flaws. His parents refused to listen to his music, claiming that he could be so much better in the medical or law field; they were almost insulted that he didn't graduate high school earlier than he did and they had too many high hopes for him in the future that they would not accept anything less than medical school, business or law school. Afraid of being disowned, Declan had no other choice than to be the family pet.

It was currently Thursday morning, Declan had yet another interview with yet another law firm. Declan was what you'd call, obnoxiously smart and managed to graduate high school at a mere fourteen years old, a good three and a half years ahead of his peers. Declan was never the 'popular' type, so he had no friends to miss with all of his constant grade jumping. Attending NYU law the following year, Declan graduated top of his class five years later. Now that his mother's dream has come true, it's time to fulfill his father’s; opening up his own law firm.

Is this what Declan wants? Of course not. Aside from being ridiculously smart, he's also ridiculously talented. After teaching himself guitar, he set to learning the piano, drums, trumpet, saxophone, and violin, cello and even the harp, flute and clarinet. If his parents had allowed it, would he be a musician for the rest of his life? Absolutely.

His mother had dropped by his apartment yet again to make sure that everything was ready for his meetings. In order to open his own law firm, he would first have to work for one. His parents had set up meetings with only the best, claiming that it was what they deserved. Declan's 'girlfriend', Clarissa had also been by (like she ever leaves) to check up on him. How he dislikes that girl.


After growing out of those awkward pre-pubescent stages, Declan grew to be quite a handsome young man; women everywhere flocked to him, begging for just one second of his time. His mother had stuck him with Clarissa after they'd met at a banquet. Now, Declan would say that Clarissa wasn't a bad woman, she was just too much like his mother. They both loved their daily gossip, loved shopping and spending the significant other's money and loved to boss others around. Declan knew that Clarissa wasn’t really a good woman at all, but if he ever actually admitted that to himself out loud, he would probably try to kill himself for his luck in life. 

Declan felt as if he was trapped in a transparent box, able to see the world outside yet unable to live it. A genuine smile was something that had rarely crossed his lips and the only person who has ever seen it would have to be his sister, Genevieve. Unfortunately for him, she went off to live her dreams of being a photographer. They haven't seen each other in years; the closest he's been to her is by watching her photographs that grace galleries. His parents had been close to disowning her for not being the surgeon they had wanted, but for some reason they hadn't.



As Declan stepped out of the taxi on the busy street in his designer suit in front of the Manhattan law firm, a little store nearby caught his eye. Displayed in the windows all throughout were some of the greatest guitars he'd ever seen. Sure, he has a pretty large collection of guitars, but only had three electrics. Of course, he definitely did not need that many guitars because you can only play one at a time, but the feel of strumming brand new stings was always one he enjoyed.

If he didn't get to that meeting, his parents would be extremely disappointed and he would hear about it for a long time before they let it go, claiming that he 'blew a once in a lifetime opportunity'. The guitars can wait. 
Just then, as if fate was testing him, the manager (or a worker, he didn't quite know) came by the window and placed a brand new electric facing the street. Declan could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was obviously a custom made beauty. The base was dark red mahogany and it faded all the way up to the top where it glimmered white. He was probably staring at it like a woman at a bridal store, but he didn't care. He had to have it.

That was the thing with custom guitars; there was only one. The detail was amazing, birds seeming to come to life from the base, the way the swirls of white and red curved around the body , accentuating the curves and flow of the beautiful instrument.
Declan didn’t know how he was going to go into an interview and talk about law when he wanted nothing more than to buy the beauty, go home and play until the wee hours of the morning.



It was a car horn from across the street that made him realize that if he didn't get a move on, he'd be late for his meeting. Not a good way to show his potential future bosses the professional he could be. Declan's mother had made sure his suit was well pressed and that his briefcase looked professional enough to be handled by a name like 'Callum' and everything; he couldn't mess this up.

Why must everything be so hard when you have to money to make it so easy?




When he had gotten out of the meeting, the guitar was no longer on display. He'd even gone into the store to ask, but it had unfortunately already been sold; the good news, he'd gotten his parents' dream job. No doubt his mother had already heard of it and already made reservations to a posh restaurant.

Dropping his keys onto the hall table inside his very lush loft, Declan was not surprised that he was immediately greeted by the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floors. It was his mother who had given Clarissa the spare key, not him. He would never dream of it.

She came running up to him in a barely there dress with a way too revealing plunging neckline. Declan found Clarissa pretty, just not sexually attractive in the least bit.

"Hey baby!" She cooed, attaching herself to him almost immediately. "How was the interview?"
As soon as she pressed her lips onto his, he felt her lipstick run onto his lips. As he passed the hallways mirror, it was confirmed when he saw that his lips were nearly the same shade as Clarissa's. What he wouldn't give to just jump off of a cliff and end the torture.

That night, Clarissa insisted on being ‘romantic’. Of course, her ideas of romantic are significantly different from Declan's. He had thought of a nice, candlelit dinner with soft music and maybe a movie or two.
Clarissa's idea was forcibly dragging Declan to a night club, getting wasted and grinding up on every man she saw. Not once did she bother looking over to see what Declan was doing, if he was alright or not, because that was just the type of person she was.

After nursing one lukewarm beer, Declan had just about enough and after looking everywhere for Clarissa, he saw her leaving the club with a man on her arm and only one shoe. A normal, loving boyfriend would have gotten immediately angry and jealous, but Declan could not have cared less about Clarissa's personal life; It wasn’t as though he was very eager to satisfy her in the bedroom anyway.

Seeing as Clarissa had dragged him by taxi (claiming there would be no parking; when the club had a parking lot), and there were hardly ever any cabs around at this time of night (and Declan left his cell phone at home since he was dragged so suddenly out of the apartment), Declan was stuck with his only other alternative; walking. In a place like downtown Manhattan, walking isn't always the smartest or safest option, but ever since Declan saw a man get pushed in front of a moving train at the age of only four, he'd been deathly afraid of riding one, so that was definitely not an option for him. 
Stuffing his hands inside of his sweater pocket, Declan began his trek home that would most likely take a good half hour or so in the dead of night. It was actually quite cold; so cold that Declan could distinctively see his breath at each exhalation. He noticed a group of homeless folk in the corner, bundling up together as a deep frown made its appearance on his face.

That was the one thing that really bothered Declan, the homeless. No matter what they may have done, he believed that no one deserved to be left out in the cold and forgotten. Seeing as Declan's parents were swimming in more money than they could count, Declan slowly walked up to the group. They looked young, in tattered clothing and sunken faces. Reaching into his pocket, Declan pulled out his wallet. Pulling out two hundred dollars each, the young man handed the group the money, smiling at the expressions on their faces (One woman had tears in her eyes). It might not be enough for a home, but they could now afford decent winter coats and food to last however long they decided they would need it. He might have just spent one thousand dollars in less than thirty seconds, but it was the best investment he could recall ever making at the moment; hell he was sure Clarissa also spent that much in thirty seconds...on clothes and shoes. It wasn't fair that he had so much while others didn't.

Continuing his walk, Declan looked around for others he could help; it felt good to be needed, to do something for others for once in a while. He had been so busy looking for the needy that Declan didn't even notice that he had entered the 'rich' areas of Manhattan and that his home was just a mere block away, as soon as he turned the corner, he would be able to see the building. A small smile made its way across his lips as he took in the scent of car fuel and trees, the odd mixture that smelled like home. Before Declan could make it across the street to the safe sanctuary that was his loft, something small and bright caught his eye. Turning slightly, looking into one of the dark alleyways, Declan noticed a pair of bright green eyes in the distance. Of course, it was dark, so he might have mistaken the colour for a deep blue, but he was sure they were green.

They stared at him, almost as if they were looking right through him, causing Declan to stop walking completely and just stare right back. Once Declan's eyes had focused in the dark, he was able to put a face to the eyes, a beautiful face to the eyes...a sad face to the eyes. It was more than obvious that this small boy hadn't eaten well in days, months even. His face was sunken, deep, bruise-like bags donned his eyes and his lips were chapped and split, yet Declan could have sworn that he'd never seen such a pure, beautiful face in his life. He automatically wanted to know the boy, wanted to hold him, to see if he was real.

Declan was more than aware of his sexuality, his parents and...everyone else, on the other hand, were groping around in the dark, attempting to shed some light on the situation. Clarissa had her suspicions; noting how he would stare just a little too long at the handsome male here and there and how he would almost never look at women in an 'attracted' sort of way. She might have told herself that it was simply because he loved her that he didn't look at other women, but that quickly turned into confusion.

If she was there to see the way Declan looked at the young stranger...she would have found the light switch and possibly tell everyone else where it was.

Without conscious thought, Declan's feet began carrying him towards the small boy, he had to help somehow; he knew he wouldn't feel right if he didn't help him when he had just given so much to the others. 
Before he could get any closer though...the boy ran. Declan could barely get a word out of his mouth before he saw the boy turn a corner and disappear from view.



No matter how hard he tried that night, Declan just couldn't shake the feeling that it would not be the last time he saw those bright green eyes.

And he desperately wanted to know when he had seen them before....