HIDDEN [SAMPLE] [BOYXBOY]

ONE

SUPER IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a sample! The rest of the story is (freely) available on FicFun. To read it, click the external link! Or you can chill here until chapter five. Your move.

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ERIC SANDERS

Surreal had been the only word to describe everything right now.

 I sat outside a relatively swanky café, sipping white hot chocolate as my parents hovered across from me, their silence speaking louder than their voices ever could.

By the amount of creases appearing on his forehead, and the wary look in his cold blue eyes, my father probably disapproved of this way more than mom did. Even though her smile wavered as she stared up at me, her lovely brown eyes were filled to the brim with tears, more of joy and pride than genuine sadness.

 At least, that's what I hoped.     

"Are you excited?" Mother asked, her smile remaining steady as her gaze swept over me.

 "Definitely," I replied, grinning into my warm beverage.

Mom let out a sigh, her eyes fixating on something in the distance; probably a sure-fire way to stop her from crying or spewing stuttered sentences and half-words that she thought would make me stay.

 Nothing would convince me, though. I'd been waiting for this way too long to simply let it slip out of my grasp because of my mother's tears, or anything else, for that matter.

This trip had been my dream since the day I flipped through my mother's travel magazine, bored out of my mind. I'd been drawn in by the lights, the busy streets, the people who didn't seem to realize that their home was the apple of everyone's eye, and suddenly, my soul lifted and it felt like I'd been caressing freedom.

  In a matter of hours, I'd be part of those massive crowds flowing through the city; brushing against each other, spilling beloved cups of coffee, listening to the conversations of people who shouted into their phones, and becoming part of the city that everyone endlessly adored since its humble beginning.

I'd be part of a well-oiled engine, instead of this tired, dried-out town. I'd be free.

"We'll miss you, son." Dad said reluctantly, clearing his throat rather loudly. I'd managed a small smile, nodding in his direction, his elusive eyes causing my smirk to disappear instantly.

This was bound to happen, though; my father had a terrible time showing any sort of emotion, and even simple things like "I love you" had immediately vanished when he'd found out about me. It stopped being a burden on my soul years ago.

 "I'll miss you too, Dad." I whispered, quickly shifting my gaze to my mother. "Both of you."

We sat in silence, staring at anything except each other, leaving all of the words that clawed at our throats to wander around our minds, the potential tears stinging beneath our eyelids, dying to get out.

I wouldn't cry. I couldn't. Such a wonderful occasion possessed no need for tears. After eighteen years of living with my parents, in a foul town filled with uncouth human beings, leaving for a year sounded like the utter definition of a dream come true.

 "Flight 153 to New York, now boarding." a voice boomed, blaring through the speakers.

"That would be me," I chirped, standing up. My fingers coiled around the handle of my suitcase, the tough plastic familiar against my skin. I grasped the smaller bag, carefully placing it on top of the larger one.