No Heart- No Problems - 1. Chapter 1

e need to talk"
what? why are you looking away from me?
"I think those last few months...."
were the best months of my life?
"were a bit well on the mistake road"
mistake?
"mostly from my side, I realize that, at least"
"Jon!"
"I shouldn't have let you get the wrong idea like that, before we got so far..."
no! "wai-"
"I never meant for you to stay here so long. Stacy's moving in tomorrow. She already sold her place."
what?! "but I live here! I've been-"
"you are moving out."

And that's how my heart broke for the first time. So I left it there to rot.
---
The day I found myself sitting on the side-walk, for the second time, outside of what has been my home for a period of time, I realized something I should have realized the first time. No one is to be trusted.
No matter how long you knew them, blood ties, or romantic history, no one is one hundred percent on your side. Never.
Your family will kick you out if you won't follow the ideals they force upon you. Your friends will abandon you to keep their adopted ideals, and the man who shows you what life outside of the box looks like, will abandon you for the safe life of the same box, which I could never return to.
When that realization hit, I refused to brake. After a moment I got up. I left the duffel, that he generously already packed for me, laying on the ground, and turned back to get into the apartment complex.
An hour later, I was out, with a hefty sum of money lying neatly in an envelope I held. The face of my palm stung, but with one last glance around, I picked up my bag and walked away.

My name is Stan. Originally Stanley, but I take pride in my ways to discourage people from calling me that.
Born in April, I am Taurus, although I doubt if I fit the profile. At 5'7 I used to be the shortest boy in junior year high school, which I dropped out of that same junior year. My shoulder length black curly hair hid a face which was never described as more than "pointy" by anyone who got a peek between the curls. And my plain blue eyes were seldom noted by anyone, always hidden.
One positive thing I got from my latest housemate, Jonathan, is a view of the life I could have outside my walls. Evidently, he also shut out a large part of the same view by kicking me out, but nevertheless I got my peek.
The second positive thing he ever opened my eyes to , was the fact I could sue for emancipation. He was also kind enough to help me get it. And now, at 17, I was free to my will almost as any adult.
This proves handy when you want, for example, head out towards the nearest bus station, get on the first bus leaving town, and never look back without trouble from friendly and helpful officials.
Two hours after I left Jon's place with nothing but a duffel (and enough money to last as living expenses for some months, that I made sure to deposit in the bank first thing) I was already well on my way out of state. One I made sure honored minor emancipation.
On the way, I gone over all the things I will have to attend to for setting up in a new place. Money transfers, living space, food. I'll have to find a job, that was something I knew well, so contacting the welfare office and updating them should be on the list as well.
As far as anything goes, he did me a favor. I doubt many teens have such a clean start on their lives, with enough money to last a while, and some legal rights as an adult.
When I looked out the window of the bus, it was dark. I noticed, looking at my reflection, that my curls were hiding my face again. Somehow, it didn't fit. The next stop in the ride, I got out and bought some bands for my hair to tie it up, leaving one fringe to cover half my face. That looked much better. A bit girly maybe, but I was never bothered by the stigma. After all, it's true.
When I finally got to the ride's destination, I took a quick review of the place. I never bothered to look at the specific destination in the state I was moving to when I left that first bus station, but it looked as if my luck took me to a decent place.
I got out in a small town, not as small as the one I used to live in, but small enough for comfort, being a bit on the low side with population, it would be easier to find a job.
When I was done staring around me, looking new, I picked up the bag, and headed for the information booth. First things first, I needed to find the bank. Money makes the world go round, and I had a hefty sum of it waiting for me to claim it back. I also found out there was a motel a few blocks away. And the busboy at the local diner just headed out for collage. Pieces of the puzzle just keep falling to place for me, it seems.
It wasn't until my duffel was unloaded into the closet, and the employment papers were laying on the bedside table that I broke. My cries would have probably woken up the people in the neighbor room, but for lucky me, they were busy with cries of their own.
He abandoned me! he took me away from all I knew, and then threw me away like I was some rotten banana peel in his trash can! how could he?! no... no!! no!!! never.... JON!
but then... I went with him of my own free will. I knew, or at least should have known, what I was getting into. The small things were there. My timed trips to the spa by myself every time his parents were in town, him always getting to the phone first... surely that one time I saw stacy coming into his office should have clued me in. I felt like such a classic kitsch trash. I wasn't romantic enough to really go with the "he did this to me" agenda of blame. He did do me a favor. I knew who I am. I also knew who I will never be again.
When I came out of the room, my eyes were not puffy or red. My hair was tied up again. And with a snicker aimed at the couple who left the motel room to my right, I began the first day of my real life with a remaining motto from the night.
No heart, No problems.