Faustin Auclair vs. The Universe

chapter one

Faustin knew pink hair was a bad idea. The moment Adriana had finished dyeing it, he realized it had been a mistake. He told Adri that, but she just said it wouldn't come out for at least a week. It had been a stupid, crazy, impulse decision at 1 AM. Faustin had finally started to be happy for what felt like forever. He was finally beginning to feel like himself. Then stress and reality had come crashing back down on him.

The rest of the night at Adri's had been full of anxious hair pulling, failed attempts to calm Faustin down, and tossing and turning on the air mattress. Adri had apologized, but Faustin knew it had been his fault. He was so stupid. He knew this would happen.

When he got home, Faustin had tried to cover up his hair with his hood. He had tried to rush up the stairs, past his father on the couch and his mother in the kitchen. He had tried to act normal. But he had failed. His parents had noticed the hood over his face. They noticed him rushing. They noticed he was acting strange. They noticed everything they didn't like. 

Faustin's father had made him come and stand in the middle of the living room. His mother had made him pull his hood down. They both grimaced in horror at the sight of his hair. Faustin was on the verge of tears.

"Why the hell is your hair pink?" Father had roared. Faustin had only managed to stutter.

"I just can't believe why you would do this. God gave you beautiful blonde hair, and you go and poison it with a girl color." Mother seemed even more crushed than Faustin.

"We let you out of our sight for one night, and you're already turning gay!" His father was shouting now. "This is why you shouldn't be allowed to be with your friend. Who would even want to be near you? Addi's probably not even your friend. She's just mocking you. Making you look like an idiot!"

Tears streamed down Faustin's face. "Adri," he whispered.

"What'd you just say? I don't give a damn what her name is! It doesn't matter, anyways, because you're never seeing her, or anyone again!" Father bellowed. Mother wailed, nearly crying more than Faustin. Faustin fell to the floor. Mother collapsed onto the sofa. Father raised a foot.

Knock, knock!

Time froze. Everyone turned toward the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Auclair, is everything okay in there?" It was Ms. Ismat, the lady who lived in the apartment across from Faustin's.

Father set his foot down. "Yes Ms. Ismat, everything's fine." Then he whisper-hissed,"Get to your room and wash that out! Don't come out till it's all gone!" Mother collected herself. Faustin quickly got up and ran to the stairs. Mother went back to the kitchen to make Father's third course of breakfast. It seemed like she was always in there making something, and Father was always eating it.

Father opened the door. Ms. Ismat stood there with her son, Iskander. Faustin stumbled when he saw him. His perfect hair, deep brown eyes, dark skin. He wore a violet sweatshirt and cuffed jeans. And he was as beautiful as ever. Iskander wore a worried expression on his face. Was he worried about... Faustin? He couldn't be. Iskander was a handsome, fit, perfect boy. Faustin was ugly and full of imperfections. He was unlikable, stupid, g-g--.

Then he waved. Iskander Ismat waved at Faustin Auclair. Faustin stood there like an idiot for several seconds before taking off up the stairs.

He ran into his bedroom and closed the door. He leaned against it and slid to the floor. Why did things have to be this way? Why couldn't he just be himself without hating himself. He just wished for something better. Down stairs, he could hear Father's conversation with Ms. Ismat.