LOOKISM || liquorice

. 01

When Daniel wakes up, body sore from having been curled up on only cardboard boxes laid atop the hard tiled floor, he is certain that everything he has experienced--or thought he experienced--has been a dream.

"Ah, you're awake," says the [h/c]-haired angel leaning over him, a bland smile sitting atop rosy lips.

Yes, everything was only a dream. Logan and Zoe, the letter, the noodles with the homeless man, sleeping in the subway--it had to be. He is the other Daniel, the handsome, fit one--not his ugly, useless original body, because there is no way a beauty like you could even be sparing him a glance if he isn't.

Or perhaps he had died overnight, and now he was in heaven. With all of the things he had just been through he wouldn't be too surprised.

"Good morning. Everyone's staring, so you should get up."

Daniel jumps in fright, mind finally processing the fact that he is, in fact not dreaming (or dead for that matter) before hurriedly getting up. "A-ah! Yes! Sorry!"

He looks around him as he takes his bag, taking in the empty tiled hall.

When the city's awake...

Their world disappears.

"My apologies, sir," you say to the bespectacled man beside you. He wears an officer's uniform and glares down at the short boy. "My brother ran away, you see. I'm glad to have found him before he got any further."

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"You got it."

In the morning, officers from the city hall come to chase the homeless people out. It's because the people complain.

Your gaze flickers down to the newspapers Daniel is sitting on. After a brief moment, you pull your gaze away to meet his.

"B-brother?" he asks intelligently.

"A lie. Duh," you tell him bluntly. "I'll go get us some breakfast. Wait here. Gather your things in the meantime." You speak in short, curt sentences, never saying more than you needed to, he notices. Your voice is dull, but your eyes are strangely lively.

Before Daniel can even protest, you move into the crowd and disappear.

After sitting alone dumbly, he looks across the tiled floors to the other side of the hall. It is empty, the bottles and cans the only proof Daniel has that the night prior was very much real.

He begins gathering up his newspapers.

Mister...he's gone...

I couldn't even say bye.

His cheeks warm up when he feels people's eyes on his shabby form.

Ah, this is so embarrassing...I should hurry and get out of here.

As he picks up the last paper, a shoe steps into his field of vision.

"Did you run away from home?"

.

.

.

Glumly, you stand alone in the subway, staring down at the now-empty spot where Daniel once sat. You know it was his--a newspaper, one you had noticed he slept upon, had been left behind.

'Young Prodigy Suddenly Disappears from the World of Art,' the front page article reads, in bold black font.

You shift the paper bags of food to one hand and scratch an itch on the back of your neck with the other.

"...I told you to wait..."