The Photo of Dorian Devereux

a decision

Dorian is used to being tired when he is having breakfast. He is used to being bruised, cold and tired. Asking whether this life is better than the one he would have if he would have decided to live on the streets. And than there is also this intense wish that his father could've somehow been alive, how happy would he be than? That question will forever go unanswered but he wishes he could answer it. It is strange to deem it normal that the butler wakes you up in the cellar. Not even a matress somewhere, just cold stone ground and the broken soul of a young boy.

You couldn't call Dorian a positive person. But he wasn't negative, he accepted his reality with a brave face and a smile for the world. He saw more joy and kindness in the world than many people, strangely so, Eden always wondered how he had the energy to trust that humans will try to be the best person they could be. But frankly he was protecting himself, it meant his grandfather was actively choosing to be a bad person, to be cruel, to hurt him. And that, he could understand, he must have a reason. But without reason, without intention. That, he could not believe. He was shielding himself from the realisation of the world's cruelty. Because even if he would do everything just right, he would end up in that same cold damp cellar. But perhaps I am simply talking in the Spirit of Lord Orléans.

So Dorian is always awfully quiet at the breakfast table, it is only when the old man starts asking him questions that he dares to begin to utter words.  "So, where were you yesterday?" He asks. "A friend took me to a club, Sir." He says barely looking up but politely smiling as he looks at the eggs on his plate. "I hope you did not drink" The old man says so strangely caring. He shakes his head, of course he wouldn't drink. He doesn't drink, he doesn't want to risk it. "Eat your eggs dorian." He smiles and looks at the young boy. With a strange anger mized with love. Which would make people doubt whether dorian's philosophy might be right "Grandfather?" "Yes, Dorian?" "I have been thinking, May I move out? I would like to live in London somewhere in an apartment." The old man begins to laugh, not even happily, with such a mocking feel. When you hear that laugh you'd wish you never met this man. When you hear it you want to pack your bags and leave forever, when you hear it you are reminded why you did not ask that question. "Is that a no?" He asks, doing his best not to whisper and still sounding polite. The man is still laughing as if Dorian is a Leading comedian, as if he just told the most brilliant joke in the last two centuries. "No, Dorian, it isn't a no. You may move out when you can support yourself financially." The old man smiles maniacally. "But.....You do not allow me to have a job." The cruel lord smiles and nods. "Exactely Dorian." Dorian chuckles, "You cannot control both of those things." "Watch me." Lord Devereux says as he stands up and walks away. Dorian stands up, his muscles are sore and he feels a card in his pocket. He takes it out aand looks at Lord Orléans business card. He chuckles "Watch me Grandfather." He whispers to himself before optimisticly running up the stairs.

Eden opens his door with the most annoyance in the world and the most charming silk evening robe, the green paisley pattern is incredible with his unruly ginger hair. You cannot call Eden a morning person, and there is no possible but related to that sentence. He dreads every morning, if the photographer could choose another passion it would be some other kind of art, his garden or sleeping. He could damn well write a love letter to his snoring hours on the comfortable but messy bed. So normally when somebody is in front of his door the first two words they would hear is "Go away." But when the gentle hearted photographer sees the beautiful muse on his doorstep he will not dare to utter those words. "Is this a bad time?" Dorian asks with his extremely charming smile. "Not at all." The clumsy photographer lies with a smile.

Dorian enters the hallway, putting his beautiful reddish brown coat on the rack, revealing his stunning double-breasted dark brown vintage ralph lauren suit. "I see you decided to sleep in today." the photographer (A typical night-owl) nodded neglecting to mention that normally he would still be in bed. They sit down in the living room and the butler immediately walks up to dorian. "A strawberry lemonade I assume." Dorian smile brightly, resembles the bloom of a flower after a particularly cold winter. "Yes please" the photographer chuckles "And you master hallover?" "I would like one too, it's a suitable day for it." "Indeed!" Dorian says with a delightful sigh.

"So Dorian, what brings you here?" "Well, I am thinking of doing something but I am very hesitant because of some things you have said." "Really?" Eden says, slightly surprised. "I am thinking of becoming a model with Lord Orléans as my agent." Eden looks shocked at dorian. "Hear me out, I know you said he is bad news but" Dorian looks down, very ashamed. "I need the money." "They money? Dorian your rich?" "Yes, because of my family. I want to be financially independant. I have had trouble home lately, I do not want to talk about it. Eden, I need you to be the one I can trust, I need you to be the one who tells me I am going to far or telling him he is going too far. I do not see that, he does not care, and you are the only one he listens to." Eden sighs, asking himself how bad a home situation can be in comparison to the things Clement might be able to do to you. But after a long time of thinking he decides he cannot say no, even when he knows this boy is too pure. His heart will be poisoned and his soul turn sour. He smiles. "You should do it." His mouth says betraying the feeling in his heart. But the bright smile of the lad makes it worth it, does it?

The flamboyant lord opens the door of his simple city residence. He is surprised to see the friendly face of the adonis. "I do not have an appointment, I understand I should've called before appearing in front of the door but.." "Come in Dorian!" Clement says taking his cigarette briefly out of his mouth. Dorian obliges and looks at the beautiful house, wondering what it must've cost him, and how long it'll take him to get the money. "Let me guess" Clement says with a smile as he sits down on the sofa, and dorian sits down on a chair. "You want to model?" Dorian chuckles, "Well, I want to try, let's start at that." "I knew you would come around eventually!" Clement exclaims with his devious smile. "You look marvelous today Dorian. in about an hour I have an event where I meet a lot of clients and photographers etc. Would you like to join me? You look rather suitable for it." Dorian hesitates. "I do not see why not." "Good." He poors two glasses of whiskey and hands dorian a cigarette. "I do not smoke, and I do not drink either." He says politely. "You know Dorian, life passes many young people by because we are no longer allowed to indulge in things. Just so that our life will be longer, but seriously Dorian, what is a longer life if we cannot savour it, and indulge a little." He lights the cigarette, "Even if this is the only time, you can say you've lived a little." He says with a smirk. Dorian sighs, "It is not as bad as they say it is." Clement chuckles. "This one time" Dorian says while picking up the glass and taking a sip of the burning whiskey savouring the strong lingering taste of unfamiliarity before breathing in the toxic smoke of destiny. The lord nods, "Just this one time" Knowing full well it won't be.