There is always a silver stripe in the grey clouds.

-THEO

Caleb Parks' POV

It felt like hours as I sat down in front of the alley and cradled Abigail in my hands.

Funny how a few years ago that this was the day I was found, and it became my birthday. Funny how I lost my two sets of parents today. Funny how I want to end it all right here, right now.

I drew a sharp breath; as I felt Abigail kick against my empty stomach. It's as if she can hear my thoughts. I look down at her as she looks back with her bright green eyes.

She looked like our mom, and I didn't want her to go through what I went through back in the orphanage. The last thing I want is for her to get into a very abusive family.

"Hey, kid."

I look up to see a man in a casual button-up and slacks. He pulled the cigarette in between his lips and put it out by stomping on it.

"You've been sitting here, crying and singing all day. I don't know what made you sad, but I think you have a good voice."

I was at a loss of words to reply to his compliment if it were one.

"See, I need your help, but it seems like you need mine." He stretched out his hand for me.

I hesitated at first, but it's not like I have anything to lose, apart from the crying infant in my arms; I own nothing more.

My late parents were a little below average on the economic ladder, so going back to our apartment was clearly off the table.

I took his hand, and he helped me up. Then he walked away. I followed after him. He stopped in front of a bright red sports car. A man opened the back seat for him to get in, and he motioned for me to get in after him.

I got in but sat at the edge, afraid the dirt on my clothes would stain the seats. After an unbearable silence, I felt Abigail go limp in my arms.

I felt my heart rate increase as I dared peek down and only saw her sleeping. I let out a sigh of relief and looked back up. I am met with the curious stares of the stranger.

After a weird car ride, we pulled up at a large mansion. We got out, and the stranger led me to a secluded part of the house. He opened a door which led to a well-furnished bedroom.

He made me sit on a chair in the corner of the room and offered me a glass of water.

"What's your name, son?" He asked with a kind face.

"Parks, Caleb Parks." I tried to reply confidently but stuttered slightly.

"Well, Caleb, I'm Marcel. I feel that crying on the roadside is not your hobby." He said bluntly.

"No, but it's not like I have a choice." I manage to let out.

"Not to probe, but why were you there anyway?" He asked.

I bit back a sob as an image of my bloodied parents filled my head.

"It's alright. You can tell me when you're ready." He handed me a tissue. "Those must hurt."

I followed his gaze towards my very red arms and nodded.

"Let me." He took Abigail from my arms and placed her on the bed.

He rolled up the sleeves of his button-up and took out a medical kit, and began to clean up my wounds. When he was done, I felt very much better.

"You can use the shower while I handle her." He nodded at Abigail.

I hesitated to leave them in the room when he noticed he let out a slight chuckle. "I have a daughter, and I can assure you I am not a paedophile."

I wasn't satisfied with his answers, but he pushed me slightly towards the bathroom. I closed the door after myself and stripped out of my clothes, and had a hot shower. When I was done, I saw a big bathrobe on the door. I put it on and came out.

Marcel was using his phone, when he looked up and saw me, he put away his phone.

"Come with me."

"Where's my sister?"I refused to leave the spot where I stood.

"She's fine. Come on"

He came out of the room; I followed him out. We stopped in front of a door and entered. It was composed to give an office kind of vibe; it did look like a tastefully furnished office.

He motioned for me to sit in a chair in front of his large table as he took his seat behind it.

"As I said, my name is Marcel; you can call me that. And I need a favour." He said once I was seated.

"Well, Marcel, thank you for your kindness. I would love to repay it."

"Good. I don't mean to come off as a stalker, but I watched you sing all day. You have a great voice, and I think you've got talent."

"Thank you, Marcel, but what has this got to do with the favour you want to ask?" I furrowed my brows as I studied him.

"I'm getting there." He scratched his beard, "I think you should sing for my daughter's birthday tomorrow, and I'll let you stay the night."

"Sounds fair, but I still want to see my sister," I demanded.

He snorted and tapped away on his phone. Soon a young girl about nine years old walked in carrying Abigail; she was a carbon copy of Marcel.

I took Abigail from her and stared down at the last reason; I have left to live.

"So what do you say, Caleb?"

"Deal."

-

The last time I performed, was to sing a lullaby to my sister to sleep when my parents left us alone in the apartment. Safe to say, by the time they came back, the carpet needed to be changed, the floors needed a good scrubbing and don't get me started on the couch.

The very white couch, if I might add.

"You ready, son?" Marcel asked me as we stood near the stage steps.

We were currently in an event centre; in the middle of Miami. Different shades of black with white were everywhere, ranging from balloons to streamers to the confetti that littered the ground.

A black ball of energy known as Marci was dressed to fit her first double digits. In an off-shoulder black top with white ripped jeans and studded boots. She raced towards Marcel with a big smile on her face.

"Thank you, Daddy, thank you." She said happily.

As I said before, the resemblance is unmistakable. It didn't come out as a shock when Marcel gave a bigger yet similar smile to the one on his daughter's face.

"You're welcome, sweetie. Now go welcome your friends. I have one more gift for you." He hugged her back tightly before she raced off to meet her friends.

"So do I need a bow on my hair, or would the leftover wrapping paper be enough?" I asked with a slight smirk.

"Son, don't be smart with me."

"Right." I drawled.

He wanted to say something more, but the host announced my performance. Sure the kids were happy for the entertainment, but I doubt any of them knew who I was.

"Knock 'em dead, son." He nodded at me.

"Oh, I plan to," I claimed with false bravado as I climbed onto the stage.

When I got to the middle of the stage and was amazed by the beuaty of the fall. A large heap of gifts in the corner and a birthday cake whilst stood proudly in the middle of the room.

I make a mental note to know where the money in this family comes from because it seems too natural to be free.

I sat on the stool and strapped on the guitar beside me. I adjusted the microphone on my left ear and began to sing while playing the guitar. It's literally my first performance on stage, and I don't even feel the need to lose my breakfast.

Sure I was a bit nervous, but I pulled through. The birthday song was far from the usual one people sang. Marcel gave me the lyrics to learn; the moment I had agreed to perform for Marci as a gift. It was boring and quite lengthy, so I added a few tweaks.

When I was done, the applause from the crowd was loud but not loud enough for me not to notice the surprised stare that Marcel was giving me. I can't tell if it's a good one or a bad one.

Once I came down from the stage, a band took over. I was almost launched onto the ground by the black fireball of energy.

"That was amazing, thank you," Marci said as she squeezed me tight.

"No problem Marci."

I noticed an Irish-looking boy staring at us from behind Marci; before I could ask what he wanted, Marci beat me to it.

"Hey, Nate." She nervously put one of her stubborn curls behind her ear.

"Hi, birthday girl." He moved to hug her, but she held out her hand for a handshake. This must be a new level of awkwardness.

Nate dropped his hands with a light pink tinge on his cheeks and accepted Marci's handshake.

"Can I have this dance?" He took her hand as the band started playing a slow song. He tilted his head to look at her while blowing away the red bangs from his forehead.

Marci was at a loss of words and most likely her breath as well, as she dumbly nodded. Nate pulled her onto the dance floor; he put her hands on his neck and put his on her waist. At least he is keeping it PG I think.

"Walk with me." Marcel tapped my shoulder.

I followed his lead. We came outside of the hall and toward the park that was nearby.

"That was an interesting song you sang back there." He said when we had walked about half a block.

"Thanks. I was going to sing the one you gave me, but it looked too outdated and lengthy. And I only had a night to memorize it..."

"No need to get defensive, Caleb. As a matter of fact; I like the song you performed even better than the one I wrote for Marci. And the smile on her face after your performance was what I was aiming for."

"Oh. Well, since I have already upheld my end of the deal and you have already upheld yours, I think this is the part where we part ways. I'll go get Abigail back at the Mansion, and we will be gone before you guys get back."

I didn't see the need to beat around the bush; I just wanted to let him know that what he did for me was nice and that I really appreciated it.

But before I could, he beat me to it. "Tell me, Caleb, in your twenty-four-hour stay with my family and me, you can't tell me that you are not in the slightest bit curious about how we became rich."

"I am, but it doesn't seem like my place to ask," I state honestly.

"And he's modest too." Marcel comes to an abrupt stop as we near the end of the park, and I can feel the end coming.

"Son, after seeing you last night, there is no way in hell, I'd allow you to go back there..."

"Are you saying that..." He interrupts me just like I did him before he could get his point across,

"Yes, I'll let you stay. Hell, I can adopt your sister and get you through college. I ask for two things in return."

I nod my head dumbly yet eagerly, "One, never interrupt me again," Even I know how annoying I can get when I do that. "And two, how would you like to work for Wellington records as our new.."

"Oh my coconuts, you are Marcel Wellington!"

He rubs the space between his brows, "Boy, what did I say about interrupting me? If it took you this long enough to figure this out, how long will it take for you to graduate college?" He smirks.

"Deal, but I do still want to be a Veterinarian."

"Consider it done." He brought his hand for a handshake.

I took it, "Do I get bouncers?"

He moves to remove his hand from my grasp, but I keep it in place, "Yes."

"And a penthouse, with an arcade, with a bowling alley and a continental chef." Throughout my entire request, Marcel tried to remove his hand from my grip, but I was not budging. Heck, I even threw in some puppy dog eyes for the last one. Don't judge me; if you can't cook like my mom then you can't cook.

"Boy, if you don't get your hands off of me, you will be carrying your sister with hooks and sitting in a wheelchair." He said with slight irritation, but amusement was heard in his tone.

"Sorry," As I let go of his hand, "Do I get to choose my college?"

"You can choose your college." He rubbed his forehead again, looking up, "Please don't make me regret this."

I let out a wide grin while I gave him a mock salute. "It's a deal."