The House Master

About the Characters: Adrian

12 Year old Adrian Crevan doesn't really 'fit in' anywhere, nor does he need to. Whether it's school or at the children's unit, he doesn't 'get' people. He doesn't care to - doesn't care about anything really. He finds it easy to label himself - knowing he's a punk helps him form his identity somehow. That's why his ears are decorated with piercings. It's also how he knows he's gay despite having done exactly nothing with a guy. He isn't in any rush to fool around with anyone, there isn't anyone his type here. Another label he knows applies to him is 'alone' or 'lonely'. Like said, he doesn't really get people.

Other kids at the children's home get family visits, make friendships. Adrian does none of these. He plans on counting the days until he's finally 16 and can get the fuck out of here because after all, there's no chance anybody's going to foster him. And he doesn't care.

He knows everyone is apathetic to him even if they don't show it. The only people who care about him are the ones who get paid to care. The staff at the home tried to get him to open up, but after a few years they gave up and Adrian is even considering running away for like the fifth time. He could find a cool abandoned building to hang out in and shoplift stuff to sell to buy weed. It's the only fate he envisions for himself, left to the whims of the foster system.

Like most weekends, potential foster parents arrive to take some kids him. Adrian isn't on the foster roll, but is instead up for adoption. Who the fuck would adopt him? He just slams his bedroom door closed and drinks vodka and Pepsi from the Pepsi bottle, mixed to be inconspicuous.

*

William T. Spears awkwardly opens the door to the foster home, calling out for an administrator. She arrives at the door and shakes his hand, stepping aside to let him in. "Mr Spears, we spoke on the phone,"

"Yes, hello," her usually infectious smile has no effect on him. "I was told you have a child here up for adoption. Adrian-Something?"

They talk in the office. She's extremely apprehensive about letting Adrian be adopted, but William assures her he read Adrian's file. He knows about the scars, the mental health issues, the trauma. He knows about the 'behavioural problems' and with a cool air, announces that he doesn't care in the slightest. He never expected adopting to be easy.

The woman leads him to the bedrooms, all identical white doors except for one, with an ancom flag hanging from it. He smiles a little: he's antiwork. Him and this kid will get along well.

"I'll leave you to get acquainted," the staff member smiles and closes the door, leaving William and Adrian in the room together. Adrian looks up from his doodling.

"Where's your clipboard?"

"I'm sorry?" William frowns, confused.

Adrian scowls slightly. "Whenever adults talk to me they have a clipboard. What are you, a psychologist? You look like a psychologist,"

William chuckles, looking at this kid disfigured with scars, clearly growing his hair to hide them. "Actually, I'm a teacher,"

"A teacher?" He narrows his eyes, wondering what a teacher would want with him. He unscrews the Pepsi bottle and goes to swig, when William yanks it from his hand.

"Hey! What the-?"

William quirks an eyebrow, the light from the window creating a frightening sheen hiding his eyes and his intent. "I know the smell of vodka, you're twelve. I certainly won't stand for this behaviour,"