This story is a work of fiction. any similarities are completely coincidental. 'Ok.' contains love and sex between teenage boys. The obvious thing if you don't like this is to go somewhere else. If it is illegal to read this where you're from, please do the same. It also contains some coarse language, just coz it's hard to write naturally without writing the way I speak. Overall I'd rate it M for mature audiences, so if you're not old enough to be here, please seriously consider not being here. This is my first public submission, but please don't hold back. Thanks to Nifty, who do an amazing job helping writers be read. Donate if you can!
Ok.
Prologue
Toby.
Ok. So let's be totally honest here. I've never really liked stories that start off with a shallow description of the subject of the story, namely me, that sets the scene in your mind. No offence, the rest of the story is usually great. It's just an awkward way to start. I like to use my imagination. But I'm not like normal people, so here's the awkward details now.
Toby.
Hiya. I'm Toby. Toby Drake. I live in Australia, in Brisbane. It is where I was born, but not where I spend most of my time. It's kinda like a base of operations. I'm 17, 180cm (roughly 5"9) with green eyes, blondish/blackish/purplish hair and a six pack that I'm incredibly proud of. It helps with my career too. I'm kind of a rock star. That's what they call me. All I know is I write songs, perform and record them and people like them. And it makes me unbareably famous. I mean, it's fun, the money is amazing and the people I meet are legendary. But not being able to go anywhere without being mobbed sucks. Not knowing anybody that isn't vaccuous and shallow is lonely. And not being able to be myself wherever I go without damaging my image is excruciating. I'm a spontaneous guy, I don't make plans. Except travel plans. they're necessary. So when plans are made for me I tend to rebel. Tell me not to do something, I do it, basically. Being gay in "showbiz" is about as difficult as being a tourist in a tiger cage. All I need is a beautiful boy to love. Which brings me to the beginning of this story.
Axyl.
Hejsan, jag heter Axyl Kayl. Jag är 16 år. Ok. I'm just fucking with you. I'm Axyl Kayl. I'm about 180cm tall and kinda skinny. I'm Swedish, but I've lived in Australia since I was 3. That's about all of the Swedish I know, so don't expect a lot more. When my parents ditched me over here, I lived in youth homes in Sydney. Being gay, and a bona-fide witch, I kinda got into a lot of... Let's say, altercations. None that weren't easily stopped, of course. There's something about a 15 year old kid holding a ball off fire that kinda makes the whole exercise of trying to fight redundant. Needless to say, I soon out stayed my welcome. So I decided to go north to Brisbane. I've got a good feeling about this place. I think I could live here. Now I just need something, no, someone. Someone who has lived a similar life, whose parents have abandoned them too. I'll know him when I see him, I just have to see him first. Don't ask how I'll know. I just will.