San Moirae: City of Fate

Chapter 2: Greyson & Ezra

Greyson's parents never did let them back into the house. After a night outside on the porch, Greyson gave up trying. They house hopped back and forth between friends' houses for as long as it took their surgery scars to heal, but Greyson knew they needed to find something more permanent while they still had the funds to do so. 

Lucky for Greyson, they still had all of their own saved money, and a bit of his parents left over that wasn't spent for the surgery. If they found the right place, Greyson could be looking at an easy few months' worth of rent in their hands and with enough left over for them to get there.

A few late-night apartments searches on the school library computer found them a nice, two bed, one bath apartment in Thai Town, a mostly ethnic district in San Moirae. Greyson wasn't quite sure how a white, god fearing, trans kid would fit in such a town, but they had a home for them, so Grey would have to deal with things as they came.

Greyson sat in their flat, watching the Spice Festival- a monthly festival of ethnic food and music thrown every month- from their living room window, waiting for their potential roommate to rap on the door. They were set to meet at the apartment at 5:00 pm so that they could get to know each other a bit and maybe spend time at the Spice Festival together, but alas, it was nearly 1 in the morning, Greyson had school in eight hours, and the Spice Festival was already shutting down. 

"Why did I think this was a good idea?" Greyson asked their boyfriend through the phone, placing him on speaker so that they could check their messages. Zero texts. Zero calls. New potential roommate = MIA. 

"Because you're stubborn and relentless and a freaking superhero." Their boyfriend, Jamie said in an honest attempt to make Greyson smile. It worked for a moment before they realized why they were frustrated. 

"I just don't get it! It seemed like he needed this room just as much as I need him to be here. I just wish he would text me and been like 'Hey! sorry I'm an ass hole, but I changed my mind! Have fun getting evicted.'"

"Baheeda wouldn't evict you. That man loves you."

"He wouldn't have a choice, especially-"

"Taxi! Taxi! Damnit! Grey, I've got to go. I'll text you when I get home. And even though I know you have an A, B, and C plan if this doesn't work out, just know that you always have the option of moving in with me." The line went dead just as he was mid 'Taxi!' call again. Greyson tossed their phone on the couch beside them.

Grey was struggling to understand how their money situation got so bad that they had to rent out one of their rooms. Jamie was wrong. Greyson didn't have a backup plan for if this one didn't work out. This was Greyson's C plan, and they didn't see moving in with Jamie as an option. Greyson wasn't sure what they would do if the potential roommate didn't show up. Just three short months ago, Greyson was sure they'd be fine for at least five months. Where did all their money go so quickly?

It hadn't occurred to them at the time, but when Greyson said they could put down a few months lease on and apartment building, they hadn't included the cost of actually living: i.e. food and furniture and textbooks for school. Greyson even needed to buy a whole new wardrobe since their dad spitefully only threw dresses out on the porch.

Greyson's fourth months' rent was coming up and they hardly had the money to pay the landlord, Baheeda. Grey's part time job was their plan A, and plan B was selling a bunch of stuff online. If plan C fell through, Greyson would be shit out of luck. Living alone was hard. 

Ezra Moore had been planning his escape for months; Making internal and external maps of the conversion camp, not using any of the money his parents sent every week for the camp store or for field trip purposes, and being a star student so that no one would have to worry about a relapse again. All his preparations worked, though, the emotional torments of that place seemed to follow him no matter how fast or far he ran away from it. 

Ezra had spent two years in and out of that place. The moment his parents found out he was gay, they called Pastor Lee and sent him away. Four months were spent in conversion therapy without any visitation rights, and the last three months he was allowed to go home for holidays. Ezra was 15 then, and hated the place with every fiber of his being. He did everything he could to stay out of it. He tried, he really tried to be the perfect, straight, church boy his family wanted him to be, but he wasn't perfect. He slipped up. Erin Peters would always make him slip up.

The second time he was sent to camp he was there for a year and a half, that's 548 days-- no visiting rights granted until the last thirty-one days-- but they emailed his parents saying it was highly suggested that he finishes off his days with no distractions. Only Erin Peters came. Erin Peters was promptly taken away. Apparently, Ezra wasn't the only boy Erin Peters had infected with his 'disease'. 

When Ezra made his escape, it started fairly slow. It was during a field trip to an art gallery. He asked to go to the bathroom, and since he was considered a chaperone, he didn't have to be supervised. Ezra took advantage of the momentary freedom. He thanked the group leader, then walked casually toward the bathroom. As soon as he turned the corner he ran. Mrs. Adams, a supervisor there only to make sure kids didn't escape the building, watched as Ezra whizzed past her, yelling at him to come back and spitting bible verses at him as if God would strike him down.

God, however, seemed to be on Ezra's side that day, because he made it all the way to the train station without being stopped, and he rode it as far as the tracks would take him. After that, he just had to flee by foot. 

At first Ezra ran to get away from the place; to get far enough that no one would recognize him and take him back; to get far enough that they couldn't hurt him anymore. He ran until his lungs were tired and his body ached, and then he slowed to a stroll as he searched for his basic needs. He never really stopped until he realized there was no where he was running to. He needed to find somewhere to take cover no matter how temporary it would be.

Now, with a place to be and a time to be there, it seemed to Ezra that he couldn't run fast enough. He wasn't quite sure how far he was from his future tenants' apartment, but he knew he was already late. Very very late.

According to the address he was texted, he wasn't too far away. He was in the Thai Town which was exactly where he was supposed to be, but he was having trouble scouting the rest of the address. Night had fallen, a small breeze cooled the air, but the lights surrounding him give off a warm glow. All the surrounding apartment exteriors were covered in decorations for a party Ezra had found himself in the middle of. It was hard reading the building numbers. Ezra pulled out his phone and sent his tenant a text.

Ezra: Hey I think im outside your building but I cant really tell.

Ezra waited for a response, but it never came.

As Ezra saw it, he had two options. One was to stay on the down-low like he should be, and sleep outside for what would hopefully be his last night doing so. He could always try texting or calling again in the morning. Or he could ask around and see if any knew... well.., Ezra didn't actually know his tenants name.

'I guess I'm taking the bench tonight.'

Ezra made the best of his night though, keeping to himself, but exploring the festival. He ate spicy food and nodded along to the rhythmic music of the night. Everyone looked like they loved their home here. People danced wildly to the live music, throwing coins and dollars at the artists, goading them on with cheers of enjoyment. Cups were raised in a toast to all the good things the night represented. For some it was culture. For others it was family. 

"What are you toasting to?" a guy beside him asked, pushing a drink into Ezra's hand. He had red hair, and the lights of the festival made it dance like fire. Ezra looked to all the beautiful things around him; the happy people, the lively night, all things he hadn't experienced in a year and a half. Ezra raised his glass. 

"A toast to freedom." 

"To freedom!" the guy all but yelled tapping his cup to Ezra's. Others around him raised their glasses too, taking a long deep swig to that.