Gentry
Legacy Name: Gentry_992

Money does not equal happiness. It never has, and it never will. Even those who seem to have it all...don't.

Money has one practical use: to buy what is necessary for survival. There is a certain number, an amount earned per year, acquired and saved, that allows for a life of simplicity and comfort, without excess or worry. This is where supreme happiness is achieved, when related to monetary terms. At this number, the individual is free to pursue the real source of human happiness: relationships with other humans, without facing the struggle to survive, or the distraction of luxuries. The further from this number, the less happy the individual, until you come upon the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor. These two groups, whether they know it or not, have something in common: total despair.

In the eyes of the others, Aidan Marandelth had it all. But he knew better than to believe their lies.

Yes, being the son of a governor seemed like such a pleasant thing to be. Certainly, Aidan believed that when he was too young to know better, when toys were all it took to satisfy his infant imagination. The trials lessons posed were minor because although they caused the child Aidan considerable distress, they were simple speedbumps that his youthful optimism could quickly overcome as soon as the ending bell rang. But, even in those sunlit days, Aidan could tell something was amiss.

Unhappiness was probably born in Aidan but a few days after he was, when his mother handed him over to a wet nurse. Then with nannies to look after him, his mother hardly bothered, and Aidan almost never saw his father, and thus any chance of a tight familial relationship was lost before the infant Aidan was even a year old. From there on, it only grew worse, as Aidan's intelligence developed to realize the minor role his parents played in his life. It was disconcerting, to say the least, when he wanted to go to the park with his mother and instead a nanny took him, or he wanted to show a structure he had built to his father, only to be told the man was busy. The dismay these moments caused simply grew in him as he grew up.

And then, they started expecting things from him.

Not simple things, things children had to learn. These were odd things: etiquettes that betrayed human nature, lessons that defied human creativity. He was taught how to behave in "polite company", how to enchant the aristocrats with unnatural poise, and how to keep his thoughts to himself. He was taught how to be a gentleman.

They even chose who he was to marry.

When he was twelve years old she was promised to him: the pretty fourteen year old daughter of another politician. Aidan never liked her. He tried to like her, but he couldn't. There was something artificial about her...and she was female. Aidan wasn't quite sure what to make of what he was beginning to recognize as his sexuality, aside from that it had never been something recommended to him. Because no one had said anything about it, Aidan kept it to himself and pretended to like his fiancée just fine.

Nothing was fine though, not by the time he was sixteen. With his mind fully developed, Aidan could see how restricted his life was, and how distant he was from everyone he knew. He could not shake that incredibly unnaturalness that he felt, despite how he tried to convince himself of his luck. He couldn't help but know better. The world felt artificial to him, and he couldn't escape the misery that created.

Until he came across something undeniably real.

Caleb Vandeski. Aidan was never sure how the young man managed to find him, alone nonetheless, but somehow this fact did not frighten Aidan. Caleb fascinated Aidan, because he was vibrant, and free, and spoke his mind, and was a real live human being: he was the exactly the opposite of everything Aidan had ever known. And he saved Aidan from his loneliness, from his misery. And for that, Aidan loved him.

The day Aidan was set to marry his betrothed, he decided to leave the life he was born into behind. When he stood on the alter, facing the woman he had grown to despise, he realized he had to give up the charade or forever be a pawn to it. It was thus that in the middle of the service, without a word, Aidan turned and left, fled to where he could find Caleb. Hours later, they were married.

They only got one night together before Caleb was arrested, and Aidan was thrown back into his parent's custody.

The edges of the photo were wrinkled, and in a few places, they were torn a bit, but never so far as that they reached beyond the white border. The scene the photo had captured was left unbroken, even if it had the indents of folds and creases etched into it. It could hardly be helped: Aidan folded it up and carried it with him wherever he went. Every now and then he would even reach into his pocket to feel it, to rub it between thumb and forefinger, just to know that it was there. Since Caleb was away, it was the only thing he had that was real, and even so, it was a shadow. A picture of something real, a moment captured in visual form...the other sensory details of that scene were carefully preserved in memory.

It was, of course, a picture of Caleb, but it was not only that. It was their wedding picture. Aidan knew it was probably a better idea to put it in a frame and set it on some table somewhere where it could look important, as it was supposed to, but he found it got more practical use when he carried it around with him. Plus, it wasn't like he could leave something like that lying around. His father might take it and burn it, or something ridiculous like that. No, it was better to keep it with him, or to hide it with the other photos had, only taking them out to look at them when he was certain no one was looking. He was positive that no one was looking now, as he sat on the edge of his bed in the midafternoon, with light streaming in through the windows. An innocent time of day. A time of day when no one was suspicious, because there was no darkness to hide in. Thus, Aidan had learned that it was always better to do discreet things in broad daylight, because no one expected them then.

Of course it was an oddity that stealing glances at his wedding photo would be considered some sort of criminal offense in his parents' household, but Aidan had grown accustomed to things being a tad unusual in his life. In fact, it seemed as though things were almost always backwards from how they should be. The huge life decisions he had made had all been impromptu, although he recalled none he regretted. On the other hand, things he had spent years preparing for, he had no interest in and no use for. He was not satisfied by wealth, but instead desired simplicity. Some times he wondered if it were youthful rebellion, but instinctively he knew it was not.

At this point, however, there was little he could do. He was stuck in limbo, until Caleb returned.