Keith

I jogged across the street to the theater, slightly out of breath. At the ticket window, I recognized the tall, thin figure of Lance, who was dressed in a suit that Shiro had him buy when he'd entered the circus for formal events. It wasn't of the finest quality (he looked stunning anyways) and it reminded me of how badly I wanted to show Lance the beauty of the world beyond this city.

Yes, I had money, but I now had a purpose to go along with it. Even through his resentment, I wanted to spoil Lance, show him the wonders of the world, travel with him and bring him to the most beautiful theaters he could imagine, not just the shabby city one we'd be attending tonight.

But first, I had to make things right. It was one step at a time. Step one, apologize. Step two, everything else.

As I approached the ticket booth, I heard Lance ask for the ticket that Shiro had left him. When the employee handed him two tickets, he tried to explain that he was alone, but I stepped in behind him, taking the tickets.

"Thank you, sir, there are two of us," I told the employee, who nodded and waved the next person in line forward. Lance looked at me with a hard expression. His eyes, so brilliantly blue they made my heart hurt, were as cold and hurt as they'd been when I'd pulled away from him at Curtis' performance.

I gently took his arm and pulled him aside, giving him my undivided attention. "I wasn't sure you'd come if I asked," I explained quietly. For a moment, I thought he'd turn away and leave me standing there, but he nodded once and walked inside the theater with me.

It was a nice theater for the most part. Pleasantly shabby, but not in complete disrepair. It was one of the oldest buildings in the city, but not many people wanted to give their money to a theater that was more trouble than it was worth.

However, it was a pretty building in its interior- dark oak steps that led up to the first floor and balcony, red velvet curtains, pale paint that wasn't chipping too badly. Lance hesitated at the base of the staircase. His eyes were bright with hopefulness. "I've wanted to come here since I was a little kid," he told me softly.

I hid my smile and gently took his arm in mine like a gentleman, leading him up the stairs. My heart beat nervously in my chest- this was my second chance. My shot at redemption. Lance was quite possibly the most interesting, intelligent, and handsome man I'd ever met and I didn't want to screw up again.

But, of course, there are always going to be people who don't want you to be happy.

As Lance and I made our way up the stairs, I heard a voice call my name. Looking up, I recognized my mother and father. "Keith? Is that you?" My father asked, a deep frown settling over his features. I stood firm, but I felt anxiety begin to crawl up my throat. Lance recognized my parents and froze on the stair we stood on. I gripped his arm tightly, but my hands were shaking.

"Mother..." I said politely, nodding to my parents in turn. "Father." I turned to Lance. "This is Lance Mcclain."

I watched the cogs turn through my parents head for a few moments before my mother's jaw went slack and my father's eyes turn hard. "Have you no shame?" he asked me through gritted teeth. "Associating with that... Shirogane business it one thing. But parading around with someone of that stature? And, for god's sake, Keith, a man?"

I had never known my parents to be racist or homophobic. To me, Lance's skin was the copper beneath a rusty penny, the melting of sweet caramel, the sheen on autumn acorns strewn across pavement.

The fact that he was a man made no difference to me. The freckles on his cheeks and the way his eyelashes fluttered when he lied, the feel of his hand on my arm and the quiet smiles he'd sent my way. Who gave a damn what was in his pants?

But I felt Lance's arm fall from mine and saw the flash of pain in his eyes as he turned and quickly walked back downstairs and out the door. "Lance!" I called after him, but I didn't blame him when he didn't turn.

Anger spilled into my heart as I turned to my father. "How dare you speak to him like that." My father's expression remained cold but taken aback. I turned away from him to go follow Lance, but my mother grabbed my arm, her eyes sad.

"You forget your place, Keith," she said sympathetically.

I didn't give in to her. "My place? Mother, if this is my place, then I don't want any part of it."

I turned away from my parents and ran down the stairs and into the night after Lance.