The Perfect Sinner (cake boyxboy)

(IX) He's Got A Boyfriend Anyway (E)

Calum's Dream

It was too sunny of a day to represent such a dreadful event. It was too hot, too exhausting, too much for Calum.

Generally he loved the colour black, but dressing black in a funeral attire was just such an inconvenience. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to go through the whole funeral scene and seeing the people and the family and the whole fakeness of it all.

He found it ironic, really. His dad always thought of himself as a god, but like all things, he died just the same. It was a fire, a poetic death. Calum was only thankful de didn't go along with them to their cottage house, which was now a burned ruin.

He sat there on his bed, tired of everything, his head working faster than it should. He was overthinking, which was a rare custom for him.

"Calum," a voice disturbed the peace from around the hallway. He could recognize that voice anywhere - he'd only been hearing it since he was born. It was his housekeeper, Ellie. The older woman walked into the room, dressed in all black, ready to face the funeral. She seemed like she had been crying for years and years, her eyes were red in tears and her face was just pale, probably cause she'd known Calum's mum and dad for longer than he, himself, had. But like everything, now they're gone. When she walked in, her eyes were wide open at seeing him still in bed. "Boy, how are you still in bed?" She asked alarmed. "Your sister is waiting for you at the car!"

"I'm not going," he said, laying back in his large bed. He rolled over, opening his bed cabinet. The cabinet was filled with rolled up spliff and blunts, his specialty. He reached for a blunt and a lighter, lighting up his joint.

"You're not going? To your parents funeral?"

He shook his head, smoking in the weed. He loosened his tie around his throat, avoiding choking. "Get out."

"Your sister will be-"

"If my bloody sister has something to say she can come and say it herself," he blew out the smoke. He had already made up his solid mind.

Her words were evident at the tip of her tongue, but she simply walked back, shutting the door behind her.

Calum started undoing the buttons of his shirt, letting his chest free off the formal attire. He threw his shoes off and unzipped his pants.

He turned on the radio and blew up the volume, letting loud rock surround the quiet house. The house was quieter than usual. It was a mansion occupied by a family of four. Now two members of the family are gone. His sister is living in the states, attending Harvard, (she'd be here for the funeral though). But even then, the house had never outgone such a morbid and solemn silence. Even a drop of water could be heard.

Everything said and done, this was now Calum's house alone. But in any case, Calum was still sixteen at the end of the day, incapable of inheriting his family's many estates or his inheritance, which would be split between him and Mali. His mum's sister was supposed to be his guardian, given she had no family, no husband and no life. His sister couldn't very well be his guardian living in the States. Calum hated his aunt, he always had. He had no idea how he would be able to live with her for two-three years. He might have to get out of the house for the summer, though. And after he was eighteen, he planned on selling his family mansion and living in another of his many inheritances. His aunt wasn't an option.

Speaking of the devil.

His door busted open, a very mad Mali at the threshold. She had her hair into a bun and she was wearing a little black dress. Behind her was his aunt Jeanie, arms crossed over her black dress.