Richard's arm didn't even hurt anymore. He found himself looking at pamphlets of new schools in the morning. Cereal, banana slices and a Nutella toast was all he could make for himself without making any noise or using both of his hands. He had attempted making eggs which resulted in the oil sizzling on his forearm when he cracked it. He had taken culinary during his early high school years, that entire class had apparently erased itself from his brain.

He ate in silence with a small smile on his face. He waited for his parents to wake up but by the time they had gotten out of bed it was time for him to get his chores done for the day. Normally, he'd try to wait it off as much as possible or end up having a soiled mood but nothing made it possible for him to be miserable.

It was foolish to run after her, but he needed to see her. Smile at her if he could and take her on a walk in a familiar place in town - the new town. He washed his bowl and brushed his teeth for the second time - he had a habit of brushing his teeth every time he finished eating. It was one of the things he couldn't not do. But as he spat the very last bit of the toothpaste the phone in the living room began to cry out for someone to answer.

He walked out of the bathroom with the toothbrush in his mouth. When he picked up the phone he recognized the devil herself, Theresa Dalton.

Maybe there was one thing that could run his day.

had heard about black houses and seen them in movies but he never thought he would see one in front of him. The house stood tall, proud, and almost intimidatingly as he waited for any signs of life from the inside. It was considerably early in the morning, he still had bedhead from falling asleep on the train. His backpack rested on his broad shoulders, he seemed helpless. Like a Boy Scout who had lost his route. The light in one of the rooms on the second floor turned on, his eyes shot up in the general direction in shock. Strangers must have thought he had never seen electricity before.

He knew what he was there for but it was much more terrifying when there was nothing preventing him from doing the thing he was told not to. He had thought about escaping many times before, like a bird in a cage tasting the freedom, but once he knew he was safe he didn't know what to do with the liberty. He was lost in the real world. At least in the rich man's world he had expectations, rules to follow, people to satisfy.

Would it satisfy her when she opens the door and sees him? Here, in Massachusetts?

Probably not.

He only had to knock. He couldn't get his feet to move as the curtain opened. His eyes glossed over, wide with admiration as she opened the window. Her hair was kept back with a purple headband and went to a side. Tips almost curling, it made him smile seeing how off-guard she was. She looked up when he began to walk, a twig on the floor betraying him when it snapped.

Their eyes met the moment he cursed under his breath. Her words got stuck in her throat, eyes widening when she realized how underdressed and unprepared she was to be in his presence. Charlie found himself smiling at her, the bouquet of roses he had picked up from a small flower shop shaking in his hands as he walked toward the tree by her window. She hugged herself to hide her night gown as her eyes shifted with his movements.

Downstairs, Eivind read his daily magazine with a cup of black coffee in his non-dominant hand. He didn't like sugar in his coffee, so the black hole he usually drank spiraled him into a more than mild coffee addiction, he couldn't go anywhere without his cup of coffee in the morning. Mr. Hall sat in his son's office, looking through paperwork he had brought in a box. He still had to work, which meant the office doors would be closed until further notice and he wouldn't be aware of anything happening outside until he went on his lunch break. Mr. Hall, being his workaholic and perfectionist self, deprived himself from lunch to get five-star dinners.

Charlie held the bouquet with both hands before letting out a shaky sigh, he found himself having difficulty to look up but once he did he gulped his fear. Peter walked out of the house for a walk, he had been taking morning walks ever since he became friends with Gerard and his body was begging to release frustration. Peter walked outside with a small smile knowing Gerard was somewhere in Vermont doing the same thing, and even a couple of miles apart he was still technically walking with his boyfriend.

The microscopic smile turned into a suspicious glower. He got off the cement and onto the grass patch near the tall tree in somewhat of an annoyed stride. Charlie felt his fight or flight arise as he saw the crease between Peter's eyebrows and the shade of blue displaying a tsunami. His hands which held the bouquets trembled, Peter found himself retreating from mistreatment the moment he looked up and noticed Sigrid's begging eyes.

"I thought I told you to stay in Vermont," he whispered as he hugged Charlie just for his sister to see him be hospitable. He did his utmost best to look excited about his appearance but his arms around the smaller boy felt like he'd gone into a Venus flytrap.

"Have I ever listened to you?" Charlie responded with the same amount of falsified merriment. They separated eventually, Peter testing Charlie to say or do something next. The bouquet had gotten ruined when he hugged Peter back, he frowned before sighing through his nose. "Do I have to ask you permission for every single thing I do now?"

"As long as you're in Massachusetts where I can make sure she doesn't make any irrational decisions, yes. Yes you have to ask me first," Peter's hands folded across his chest.

"Hey, I could hear you," Sigrid reminded from her window. They both looked upward, Peter squinted. "I know," he looked back at Charlie one last time before giving in. "Just reminding him to stay in his place."

He gave his good morning's and signaled her to get changed for whatever it was that Charlie wanted. He decided to jog to catch up to where he was supposed to be at the time, Charlie observed him until his figure became too blurry for his vision. His neck began to strain from all the turning. Sigrid waited patiently for him to speak up, his lips were chapped which displayed the lack of water in his system and how dry his mouth was for words. He coated his lips three times out of nervousness before letting out a pathetic-sounding laugh to convince himself that he could be composed.

"I told the lady at the store to get me the prettiest roses," he mumbled as he tried putting the broken stems upright to hand back to her, "But you see, they didn't even get to a vase."

She let out a small laugh as she leaned against the window. He blinked rapidly a few times before taking one of the flowers and putting the rest in the soil. He cut the stem to make it just long enough to tuck behind her hair. "I came all this way," he himself was in disbelief. He sniffled, experiencing the first symptoms of a flu but simultaneously getting teary-eyed. "Just for you."

"You're quite the romantic," she smirked playfully before fixing her headband. "I wouldn't have expected it."

"Look, you didn't need to run away. I came right to you," His eyes were almost doe-eyed with a childlike innocence to where their romance was to go beyond the limits of the window and bruised flowers. "That's got to count for something, right? Ugh, I'm ranting like a madman down here."

"I suppose I should change now, Charlie," she mumbled, their eyes maintained their intense eye contact before she giggled, turning red. "You came all this way for me, the least I could do is show you around town."

"That'd be nice," he looked at the tree and immediately realized he wouldn't be able to climb it, he was never athletic in the way to climb trees or ropes so the attempt would be utterly embarrassing. She disappeared into the opposite end of the room to change and tidy herself up. Brushing her teeth she remembered their few minutes in the nurses office and their last sneak-out which resulted into the domino effect that separated them. She figured everything life had to offer came around in a full-circle. Having Richard's proposal and her more than ciphered answer, she couldn't help but think of this as the universe giving them a second chance.

Away from the rich man's world they just might make it.

Anderson paced around the theatre as his boyfriend tried to explain something he otherwise thought was idiotic. Neil was at the stage in his relationship where he felt it was necessary for his significant other to meet his parents. Todd, being the gay ball of anxious disaster he was, quickly said no and paced as he thought of logical rebuttals. Maybe a few 'my mom wouldn't want me missing dinner's and 'I wouldn't want to keep you away from your family' s would do the trick. Truth was, Mrs. Anderson didn't like the hassle of making food for twenty plus people so she always let the family go to her sister's and Neil wasn't too fond of his own family to have Todd as a negative connotation.

"Todd," Neil frowned as he watched him walk around even faster, almost resembling a hyperactive chihuahua. "My love, I'm trying to talk here. I don't think you could hear me with the air swishing in and out your ears."

"Keep talking, I'm fine," Todd stumbled on his words. After passing a few times Neil decided to stop him. Todd sighed uneasily before making eye contact with Neil. "Neil, I don't think taking me to meet your family is a good idea."

"Why?"

"Why? Because if I remember correctly your dad has this whole future planned out for you and I don't fit into the picture. I...I just don't want to be reminded of that, alright?" Todd bit his bottom lip as he looked away, almost gnawing it to the point of drawing blood. "Excuses aside you wouldn't take as bait...I mean what I say this time. I care about you too much to have your dad tell you I'm not the type of friend you should have if you want to be a doctor. And then, if they can't take the awkward silence, they'll ask about any girls that have caught your interest. And you'll have to lie, I'll have to listen."

Neil nodded slowly, fully understanding Todd's concerns. "What...what if they didn't ask? You would come then?"

"Neil, you can't guarantee anything," his eyebrows raised as he spoke, indicating he was ready to start getting passionate with his message, no matter the tone and volume for everyone else in the theatre to hear.

"I could talk to them."

"When have you ever faced your parents?"

He hadn't intended the words to come out sharper than they did but the diction tore through Neil's chest in a way both gruesome and insensitive. Todd pursed his lips as Neil blinked back in disbelief. "You don't need to get aggressive, just say you don't want to go and leave it at that."

"That's all I've been saying!"

"Fine," Neil looked away with a smile on his face, one that had no trace of content and made fire dance inside his brown eyes. "I have to go run lines with Ginny, I'll talk to you later."

"Wait!" Todd hesitantly reached out. "What if we go to thanksgiving dinner...with other people/"

Neil put his Puck crown on and started walking away, jittery, Todd followed. "Listen, alright? Maeve's family loves thanksgiving dinner but she can't bring Layla because her family doesn't know she's sapphic. So we got to talking the other day and at first I wasn't going to suggest it but now you're getting mad and I think this will fix it. How about you go to the dinner with Maeve? You told your parents you'd take someone so that's done for, and I could take Layla. Like a relationship swap, me and Layla, you and Maeve. And we can pretend...we're normal, for your parents."

"I'm perfectly normal, Todd. The internalized homophobia is still pretty integrated in you, I see," Neil walked up the stairs to go to the back. Todd spluttered in shock:

"Says you! And internalized homophobia? I meant what's normal for your parents. Obviously they're not going to like us going around making out on their couch, they wouldn't like it equally if I was a girl too! I'm just saying...wouldn't it be nice? Wouldn't it be nice to finally feel accepted by your parents? It might just be my desperate need for validation talking but a few hours and food would hurt the way I feel about you."

"Hm, erase my gayness for a couple hours. I'll think about it," Neil joked, with an undertone of aggressiveness. "Now, how do I unsuck your dick? I haven't found the page in my anti-gay bible."

"Neil!" Todd's eyes widened in disbelief. He went beet red, but just as his words to explain how Neil's words could've been caught out of proportion to anyone that was eavesdropping, Neil let out a belly-aching cackle at the look of horror on Todd's face. Todd's face shifted onto amusement as Neil walked passed him and went on with his day as if nothing he had said was somehow incriminating. He walked himself back down the steps and took a seat in the front row. And just like that Neil turned into Puck and Todd watched him act his heart out.

This is one of the things Todd loved about Neil.

But again, his list of things he loved about Neil put the Library of Congress to shame.

Mrs. Dalton, you cannot come inside. We've already had more than enough trouble on our plates for the day," Mrs. Cameron attempted to close the door on the younger woman but Theresa stopped the door with her heel. Any normal person would've have inwardly cringed at the scratch inflicted on the glorious pair of forest green kitten heels. Mrs. Cameron's eyes widened in dismay as Theresa's lips twisted into a smile that couldn't meet her eyes.

"Gweneth, after all these years of knowing me you deny my entry the first time I need it the most?" she raised her right eyebrow before it went back to her neutral state. "Quite heartless, Gweneth. Where's that friendly self I adore?"

The old woman frowned deeply, not wanting to get into a quarrel. She looked down at the kitten heel preventing her from closing the door and gulped. "That woman inside me died the moment your son left mine unconscious on the floor."

Theresa laughed, "Charlie? Charlie wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Say that to the bruises on my son's face and his broken arm. He certainly didn't get that falling down a flight of stairs."

"Well, falling down a flight of stairs could do a lot a damage," Theresa joked, the tease fell flat to Mrs. Cameron's ears. "How is he by the way? Our lovely Richard, I haven't asked, that's quite rude of me."

"He's fine. Happier at home where he can't get beat to pulp," Mrs. Cameron seethed before aggressively smiling, "Now if you don't mind Theresa, I really have to get going."

"I'll be just a few minutes."

"I haven't got a few minutes," she glared, ice cold. Theresa overlooked it, smiling as she threatened.

"Oh, but you certainly do Mrs. Cameron. You must, you've been trying to get me off your porch for a while now."

"I suggest you listen to me, young woman," Theresa removed her foot and moved her eyes with every single movement Mrs. Cameron made. They both compiled themselves, Mrs. Cameron's glance was almost degrading. But her old eyes ached for sleep, "You are the devil. You ought to rot, I could pray at church to apologize for my potty mouth but you will carry yours around forever. It'll never go away, it'll never make you happy. You ruined my son," her voice cracked when she repeated, "You ruined my son," she blinked rapidly to prevent tears from streaming down her cheeks. Her chin wrinkled as the tip of her nose went a unique hue of pink.

Theresa simply blinked before giving faux concern. "Ruined your son? Oh no, Gweneth, you've got it all wrong. What happened?"

Mrs. Cameron saw through the concern and nearly threw her off the porch. "Don't come near our home ever again."

The second attempt came to an excruciating pause when Theresa reached into her purse and Mrs. Cameron noticed the metal. Mrs. Cameron didn't have a choice than to let her inside.

Richard, locked in his room, overheard everything and in a spur of a moment hopped out of his window to call. No one came to the other side, no one he needed at least.

phone kept on ringing as Mr. Hall did his paperwork and fixed his folders into the new office Eivind had given away. He got particularly ticked off the more it rung and the louder it seemed to get in the inside of his skull. I had suspicions about who would be on the other side, it gave him more the reason to not answer. Call number three, which sounded more desperate than the others, he disconnected the lines in the entire house. His head was pounding dementedly.

His pen scribbled away as Sigrid and Charlie walked through the park somewhere that required a taxi and gave them the silence both of them desired to gather their thoughts. None of them would have the ability to walk home even if they wanted to — Charlie being states away from his own home and Sigrid without a dollar in her pocket and poor walking shoes. She planned to go down the tree to talk to him but the moment he looked into his eyes she found himself walking in the pavement next to him.

Following blindly was one of her many talents. It's called the art of vulnerability.

Charlie, nervous to be walking next to her, found a patch in the grass that was dry enough for them to sit on. He tried to disguise his legs shaking the same manner she disguised rubbing her elbows for comfort. To anyone else in the park it might've seemed as a first date gone wrong but both Charlie and Sigrid knew it was time to let out the platter of confessions to each other. This was not a date, it was a jury. And every single emotion in their heads was trying to figure out if they should continue or let themselves be torn apart.

Charlie blamed Theresa, Sigrid blamed herself. But none wanted to admit that they were wrong.

They both sat down once Charlie set down a sweater, Sigrid sitting first and tucking her legs to a side. He sat down after a few seconds, almost going into a criss-cross position but keeping his legs untucked to prevent grass burns. Sigrid played with her cardigan as she waited, Charlie stared back at her doing the same with his hair. Sigrid took a deep breath before sighing awkwardly, a small laugh escaped her lips, "Oh my god, we're horrible at this."

He let out a laugh, seeing if it was alright with her first. "We're the same level of socially awkward it's almost unbearable," he mumbled as his eyes shifted to see what emotions she was letting herself display. She smiled to herself while looking down, "No one's here to stop us from talking," he trailed as he played with the bottom of her pants. She'd been wearing a lot of pants lately, something he had realized and appreciated. He bit his lip as he pulled her hand away gently, "I really enjoy your conversation."

Her eyes fluttered away from her pants before she looked at her hand. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, though slightly shaking from a caffeine run he had before heading to her new house. Her mouth fell open slightly as his fingers danced to her palm, eventually trailing the small lines, "What if we can't find the right words to say?" she mumbled in return as she struggled looking away from their hands. "There's a million things to say, we could talk until the sun comes down. I wouldn't want to keep you out that long."