At Your Service

Chapter 1

Alone, abandoned and devoid of every single ounce of hope.

It was mid November when everything started to downfall for me. I was on my way to finish school and to become an actor, or perhaps a drama teacher, when I thought it would be a good idea to introduce my parents to my boyfriend of the time, Stan.

My parents have never showed me any traces of homophobic tendencies, nor have they ever seemed closed minded. But I was wrong, and after I confessed to them that I was, in fact, gay, they didn't take it lightly. Yelling and shouting was the only thing heard at that house. I can't even remember what they were even saying. My mum was crying thick tears and my dads' veins were almost about to erupt. I've never been afraid of my parents, but after that screaming match, I could barely even look them in the eye, in fear that I'd only anger them even more.

And apparently, they shared the same opinion as I. Two days later, they kicked me out with hardly any money and all the little possessions I had. At the time, I wasn't even upset. I gladly packed everything I needed and marched my way to Stan's house. I couldn't imagine myself living in a house where I knew I wasn't loved, or even respected at all, so my boyfriends house seemed like the best, and only, option I had. When I got there and knocked on his door, he showed up on the other side of the door with an uncomfortable look in his face that could only mean one thing...

Stan broke up with me on the spot, before I could even tell him what my family had done. He claimed he couldn't be with someone who just wasn't accepted and I almost laughed at how stupid his excuse was.

Needless to say, I didn't stick around long. I knew of some homeless shelters and decided that was the best place I could be. I was accepted with open arms, after telling a volunteer my situation, and for the following week, that was my place to stay. I hardly did anything that week. I stayed in bed most of the time after realizing how badly my life turned. I was once this happy teenager with goals and aspirations, who was loved by his amazing parents, and I had become a hopeless piece of crap with no one who loved me unconditionally.

I was encouraged to meet new people who were in the same situation as I, without a place to call home, yet I didn't bother. These people had more to worry than listen to a teens rant of how his parents kicked him out and how he lost his boyfriend at the same day. Hell, I didn't even want to think about it, but that seemed to be all I was thinking about.

Being eighteen and lacking any reliable proof that I had worked a couple of summer jobs, I was finding it really hard to find a job that managed to make ends meet. I had decided that I didn't want to live in this homeless shelter much longer, even with the amazing hospitality, and I wanted to save up enough money to rent out a flat for myself. I figured a secure job would be the perfect solution, but I haven't even finished school, so I was back at being the same hopeless shit I was.

Although, one morning, everything changed. It was half past noon, and I was still in bed. The mattress was hard as a brick and the pillow was hardly a pillow at all, which made sleeping a little hard for me. I'd wake up with a headache and a sore back but those were the least of my problems.

I pulled my blanket over my exposed shoulder and rolled over in bed, trying to get myself comfortable, which was a task that would never be fulfilled. My eyes were shut and my mind was racing with thought when a volunteer, Beth, barged into my room, just like she did every time she noticed I was secluding myself from everyone. She was pretty keen on including everyone and keeping up this whole 'we're all here for each other' charade, which I thought was quite pathetic, but whatever floated her boat, I suppose.