Untrue is my Decision - I felt

"Why is the word 'Dreamt' the odd one out?"

"It's the only word which ends with 'mt' in the English Language."

...

Out of Money, Well-being, High Status and Dream...

The odd one is simply "Dream."

....

Some people are lucky.

Dreams are their maps and money becomes their wind.

.....

"I'm simply a fragile glass-puppet to be broken...

With pieces scattered around,

I can't find myself anymore...

A fool to smile,

A fool to stay,

A fool to agree."

....

Lucas bode farewell to his uncle and went inside the huge mansion.

His father was watching the television, silent. He was concentrating - his perception alert, it seemed like the news was related to his career.

Lucas stared at his parents for a while. His eyes become hollow, the swirling emotions converted into a deep, dark abyss. Soulless but limpid. He seemed to be in a reflection, a realisation.

Lucas's emotions congregated as a chaotic mess as he walked up to his room.

His head was starting to hurt – but every moment he was getting more aware, more conscious.

He noticed the pitch-black grand piano on the way to his room. It seems to attract attention, an elegant and graceful object indeed. In the centre of the room, surrounded by vases – The room could be mistaken for a seventeen-century music composer's room.

The wallpapers, the pale-lace curtains all emphasized the presence of the instrument, which had several white music-sheets spread on it.

"You made me love it, now I..."

Lucas lowered his head and clenched his jaw, his lips tightly shut. His eyebrows were furrowed and let out a quiet sigh. He unknowingly began to stroke his fingers, which were long, each joint perfectly curved.

Lucas froze for a moment. He closed his eyes as if to hypnotise himself.

His light-pink lips curved, his lined-brow became free as if his previous expressions didn't exist.

"No, I can't decide this. My situation is just not right... It's not like everything will end if I didn't pursue..." Lucas paused, as he felt his hands going numb with every word he spoke.

I can't...

You can lie to people; lie to anything except to yourself. Your greatest judge, your greatest opponent and your greatest accuser, is you. Yourself. You can't become a convict to yourself.

"It's not because of that, because of reputation..."

"Image matters more than my happiness...?"

He strode to his room, as his eyes wandered to his shut-wardrobe.

If you become successful in the entertainment industry, what fame and riches will you not get? Thousands, no maybe millions of people will love and resonate with you. How much can you not want that kind of pleasure? In Stardom, his talents will be on display and his passion will be satisfied.

Whose life is this, mine or theirs?

Lucas gulped. His dream had all the right to become true.

Impulse, don't let emotions control you... Constraint them...

He sucked in a breath of fresh air, his unsteady breathing due to his emotions became steady once more.

I care what people think, but just once...

"You're in no position to say anything."

A voice rang in his ears. His eyes widened at the unanticipated reminder.

What a cruel memory...

"I was being ostracized... all along... But... I..."

"Mom... Dad... forgive me, just once."

His eyes were filled with resolution and determination.

This is not an impulse. I was waiting for this, I am waiting for this. And I want it. This has become a part of me, there is no good in denying myself.

Lucas opened the dark-oak chest of drawers. Some blank sheets of paper were taken from it.

With an ALNICO pen, he began to write a note, elegant cursive-handwriting with a perfect slant filled the paper.

"Enough is enough... I can do this."

Lucas's expression from glacier-cold went to steel-hard.

"I will never give up."

.....

"Sorry, Mom... But I was a little too impulsive!" A teenager chuckled.

His voice was magnetic, soft and gentle. The voice was like honey, the sweetest nectar gently being mixed with fluffy buttercream. The voice's maturity was still pubescent, but it was really soothing to listen to.

"What if it was a scam? Dear, you already have a language barrier." A woman sighed.

"Tee hee, I can learn quickly – I'm almost fluent!"

"Fluent your moth- Never mind, mama will send you more cash?"

"No, it's fine. I'll take on a part-time jo-"

"I'll send you 5,000 TYD, be safe! Don't take silly jobs, call me every day and always be close to your instructors, don't follow weird strangers."

"Okay Mom. I won't and I will."

A small pause was felt – The woman's voice suddenly became gentler, resembling the boy's voice.

"Adrian, if you feel like you can't do it, come back. Papa is fine now too. He's not angry. If the training is too hellish, don't endure. We love you."

"I will, but this is something I dreamt of mom. Yes, I was impulsive... but giving up isn't the path I chose."

A sigh emerged from the other caller.

"Okay, sweetheart – Stay safe."

"Yes Mom, you too."

Adrian wore his headphones and walked slowly, albeit the fast-paced crowd which countered the way he walked. He spoke in an unknown language, which stopped some of the people to take a look at him, but the supposed to be short glance turned to heavy stares.

Adrian had charcoal black hair, fluttering as the wind hit him. It was strangely cut though, like a bowl encompassing his face, but the strands which covered his forehead were irregularly cut. His nose and his ears were flushed, his eyes aqueous and dreamy. His eyes, one of the finest creations of the world, a heterochromatic merge of emerald-green and sapphire-blue. His eyes, just as the precious gems vividly coloured, shone – Giving him an iridescent feeling with a slight melancholy overlapping it.

A/N: (Adrian is Central Heterochromatic, with green and blue)

His cheeks were round and plump, just like his large pink lips which gently melted into his soft, limpid skin. His eyelashes weren't too long, perfect enough to highlight the lustrous gems below them.

Despite the under-aged, puerile look his face radiated, his body was well-proportioned, he seemed to exercise daily.

But he wasn't tall; he could disappear into the crowd but be distinct with his appearance.

His limbs were long and sleek, just like the clothes he wore, too big for him and slightly exorbitant. He seemed to be well-off family, but who knows, he could have worn it just for the occasion.

'... Okay, I walked a little too far.'

After disrupting the crowd's straight course, he decided that he'd go back and began to take small strides, reluctant to ram into someone. He didn't want to speak in a language he didn't know well and get into trouble. He wasn't up for the superfluous exertion of brain power.

Strange things might happen too, someone might take a candid shot of him and he might be known as the "No-language guy". Well, IT is a way to get popular...

Adrian dispensed all the vexing thoughts from his head and began to walk normally.

Successfully escaping the crowd, he saw a familiar figure which made his heart leap. His saviour, his knight in shining golden armour!

Reinforcements!

"Liam!" Adrian enunciated the name with an anomalous accent.

"How can you get lost... you can't even speak the language right! You have no sense of direction." A rant resounded, but the tone was extremely concerned.

...

"Life's real failure is when you do not realize how close you were to success when you gave up"