Song of the chapter: Skyscraper by Demi Lovato. I think it fits the first part of this chapter perfectly.
Auden's skyscraper--->
Chapter 3
...Underprivileged Skyscrapers and Forgetting Fathers...
Growing up art was all I had. Unless you count a mother who only loves her alcohol and a father who tried but couldn't take it anymore. He abandoned us for a rich family when I was about thirteen. Tate was only just turning one and my father wanted to take him.
My mother didn't care but I wasn't too keen on my father taking away Tate. I admit I was jealous. I was jealous that he could take my brother away from Hell but not me. I was jealous that he didn't care enough about me to offer me a place to stay and a loving environment.
But that was it, he didn't care about me. He cared about himself and his precious child.
He never tried to get in touch after that night. I wouldn't let him even if he called us one day and begged to take us, said he was stupid for everything and even showed up at our doorstep on his hands and knees.
I wouldn't care. Just like he hadn't cared.
I would slam the door in his face just like he had slammed it in mine when he left.
I would ignore his plea, if he had any, just like he had to me.
Too much pain, too much vengeance, too much anger, too much everything.
Too late.
He would be too late. Too late to fix the sadness and the melancholy depression he had put me into when he left. All the broken pieces he had smashed like I was nothing. I was nothing but glass.
That's why I do art it lets me express what I feel. Even if what I feel is constantly being judged. But the brick walls I have built has kept me from hearing anything they say. Feeling anything they say, seeing anything they might do to take this from me.
It means everything, like my only escape from this cruel space filled with judgmental bastards and overly-peppy people who have the world in their hands. I hate rich people. They took my father away, money took my father away.
I angrily throw the can of spray paint on the ground and grab a brush.
Rich people who have the world in their fucking hands, making people like me feel small and strive for acceptance.
It's kept me in my own world when I paint on these subway walls. These subways are my escape from the harsh reality of the world. People leave, it'll just be me and my paintbrush in the end. And that's really all I need.
The music blared through the subway knocking me out of my trance as I was in the middle of my masterpiece. When I had gotten here on Ryder's bike my legs had felt like jelly, my hair was a tangled mess, and we were five minutes late.
Let's just say that Ryder was going way above the speed limit and put roadrunner to shame. And even when I got here, Maurice was pissed.
I had sat through a fifteen minute lecture on why I should be on time for things and why I shouldn't have people wait on me. The entire time, Ryder glared holes into the side of my head because he had to sit through the lecture too.
"Nice." I heard Jamie say coming up behind me and staring at my masterpiece. The skyscraper I had painted, reminding me of New Jersey, the place I so desperately wanted to live to go to Princeton.
"Thanks." I said to him softly although I'm pretty sure he heard it. I glanced at the paintbrush in my hand and instant warmth overcame me. It was like I was looking at my life support.
I smiled slightly as I pulled off the shirt I used when I painted, leaving me in my crop top and bleached shorts. I let my hair loose out of the messy bun it was in and looked once again at my artwork. It was nothing special, just a large glass building shooting into the sky. It was empty. Just the skyscraper surrounded by nothingness. It felt like me except the skyscraper could touch the sky and I couldn't. It broke the many rules of the world and shot up as high as it could, nearly touching the moon. But I was nowhere near that. All I could do was pretend to not care, pretend like I could do anything. But I couldn't.
Hell, I couldn't even take care of my own family.
Not without the fighting I do.
"Ready for the pictures?" Maurice asked behind me, I turned and saw Jamie holding up a pretty expensive camera. I mean I'm pretty sure if I even touched it my hand would turn to gold.
"How-"
"I stole it off some guy who was passed out on the side of the road... At least I think he was passed out." Jamie answered earning him a death glare from Maurice.
"Kidding. My dad left it for me, I've had it since I was seven." He said the joking tone from his voice gone making us all enter an awkward silence that had overcame the room. Jamie had lost his dad in a plane crash when he was seven. He never liked to talk about him. Although as much as he would shrug it off you could tell he really missed his father.
"So. Uh... Pictures?" He asked basically begging for a change in topic. I nodded, thankful for the subject change and it wished for the gloomy mood to subside.
"This is for your college portfolio right?" He asked and I nodded once again. He wiped under his eye faking like he was crying, Jamie as dramatic as usual. I knew he was just trying to make everyone comfortable again but I let it slide. "My little Audie-poo is growing up."
"Shut it, I've already told you I don't like nicknames." I snapped although the smile on my face didn't leave. "Seriously, you're what? 23. You're not that much older than me."
"I happen to be 24 thank you." He said crouching down and positioning himself and the camera. Jamie was a photographer and an artist, although his photography was better than his art by a longshot. He was studying photography online, even though I didn't even know they had that course in online college.
"So... Ryder tells me you have a boyfriend." Maurice said turning to me raising his eyebrows in a fatherly way and crossing his arms across his chest. I would never tell him this, but he was quite intimidating in that pose.
I threw my hands up in exasperation at his statement. "I'm going to kill Ryder one of these days." I mumbled thinking up all possible scenarios in which I could make his death look accidental.
"What's his name?"
"Who's name?" I answered his question with another question just to get on his nerves.
"Auden, don't play this shit with me. Who's the lucky guy?" He asked raising his eyebrow, smirking as if he already knew what was going on. That smirk right there is exactly where Ryder got it from.
"Donovan."
"Last name?"
"I'm not telling you." I said standing dropping my paintbrush knowing that I had some sort of advantage over the thirty year old.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't need you hunting down the nerd before our date."
A/N
Short but... Ehh I tried.So please don't judge me.
Sorry no nerd in this one but... I gave you insight on Auden's life.
Bonus points right?Well I gotta get to sleep
Nighty night from ~MysticalUnicorn
Skie

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