A/N: So, here's my new story. This one is Shota!SebastianxClaude. I just couldn't resist. I might change the title later, ((and the summary)) but until then, let the show begin~

Story warning(s): AU, OOC, rape, incest, non-con/abuse, shotas, yaoi, smut, angst, naughty words

"I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me and I walk alone.

I walk this empty street

On the Blvd. of Broken Dreams

And I'm the only one and I walk alone.

I walk alone. I walk alone. I want alone. I walk alone.

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me.

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating.

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me.

'Till then I walk alone."

-Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day.

Chapter 1: Innocence Left to Wither

Nine years old.

Nine. Just a baby. I've never done anything wrong in my short, miserable, life.

But, obviously, God hates me.

Empty crimson eyes flicker up at the cloudy night sky. I idly play with the tips of my hair the color of raven feathers. It flows down to my mid-back is with a few, loose curls. I've been forced into a corset and tiny clothes for as long as I can remember. I look down at my black trench coat. Underneath is a half-shirt and a little pair of shorts. I shudder as I take in another raged breath.

It's cold outside, but it's not like I have a choice. I look up at my Master's home- a five bedroom, three bath, two story brick house. Bought, abused, broken, sold. Does the cycle never end?

Usually, I sleep in Master's bed, but he was in a bad mood and for some reason or another decided to take it out on me. So... Here I am.

Outside.

Chained to a dog house like a fucking animal. I growl under my breath which comes out in a white fog.

"Honestly, Master, it's snowing!"

"I don't care. You'll be sleeping outside tonight," Master had said to me. I rolled my eyes and pouted. "Kiaran Michaelis, don't you roll your eyes at me," he warned. "Fuck off," I said under my breath, but he still heard me.

I cut off my memories after that, trying hard not to remember the beating I got for talking back. I huff and wrap my coat tighter around myself, looking down at the poor quality rope tied tightly around my ankle.

Crimson eyes like pools of freshly spilled blood look up at the sound of the glass door sliding open. "M-Master," I stutter ((from the cold, not because I'm scared)) and squint at the form in the doorway. Not masculine...but feminine.

"Master," she tilts her head, walking out onto the patio, "Are you talking about Jack?" I blink a few times before nodding.

"How old are you?"

I don't see how this is relevant, but I answer anyway, "Nine."

"Aw, you poor thing...I'm gonna let you go, okay? I'll be right back with some scissors and I'll cut that rope, okay?"

I nods and shiver again as she goes inside. The air is as cold as me. I can't feel me toes or my somehow beating heart. I'm a hollow shell of what I once was- if I ever was anything to begin with.

Raised to be a sex toy. Or Father just got bored with me. Either way it's disgusting- either way it's my life.

That girl looked younger than Master. A daughter? No...I don't know and I don't care, either. She returns a few moments later and trudges out to me. The girl bends down and quickly snips the rope, "Alright, little guy, you're free."

Free? No miss, I'm afraid not. You see, I'll be picked up by the Market soon enough. They all know me. Heh, I'm a celebrity!

But, I don't say any for that and I fake smiles giver her fake hugs and say fake thank yous and cry real tears, which she wipes those away.

"Go," she whispers into my hair.

And I stand.

And I run.

3 inch black heels click and clack as I walk down the sidewalk. The air freezes my lungs and I can't breathe. I look up at the half full moon and the stars winking at me from behind the clouds.

I shove my cold, tiny, pale hands into my pocket and finger the black nail polish with my left hand.

I focus my eyes on the road, still shivering. I hear a car chomping up from behind me and I pause. I wave it down. The purple car comes to a stop next to me. I step off the curb and up to the dark tinted window I can see my reflection in.

Bruised lips, pale face, breathing in air and breathing out white fog, choke marks on my neck and other lingering bruises.

As the glass rolls down, I look at the driver. A 35 year old man with shoulder length blonde hair. He's probably going to rape me, but I'm too far gone to care much. "Sir," I say in my best fake help me voice, "I was abandoned."

He leans across and opens the passenger side door, "Say no more. Get in, kid." I fake a smile and slide into the leather seats. Ah, his car is warm. My body melts, but my heart stays frozen.

"What's your name," he asks as he drives off. "Kiaran," I say softly, "Kiaran Michaelis."

In my world, I've learned to not tell people my first name. Because in my world, they'll take my first name- Sebastian- and turn into a sharp weapon to poke my guts out with.

Besides, Kiaran is my stage and middle name. It's what Father called me. Kiaran is cold, angry, bitter, hateful, broken and lost.

But Sebastian is sweet, innocent, loving...soft and shy.

Maybe...maybe if I find a nice Master, I'll let Sebastian be my name. But he'd have to be nice and good and hold me close and wipe away my tears and love me.

Not my tight ass.

Me.

I almost laugh. Such a man does not exist! I almost laugh, but I don't because I'm unsure if I can manage a smile so laughing is out of the picture.

"Michaelis...Michaelis...I know that name from somewhere."

Daddy's been on the tellie a few times.

"I used to work for a guy named Lucy Michaelis. His son- Sebastian- ran away a while back. He was so sad," he says. "That's sad," I lies softly.

I wish my father loved me. I wish he loved me. Daddy told some lame-ass story on how I ran away. Make it seem like it was my fault! Like I want this! He sold me off like a beast to the highest bidder!

"is there anyplace you'd like to go?"

"166 Market Street."

The man lunches in the address in his GPS and waits for it to load. Only one result pops up and he selects it. Once it loads again, he smiles, "Man, this place is all the way on the other side of town!"

I say nothing and just look at my black nails.

I hate Kiaran. So, really, I hate myself. But that's not true because I have no reason to hate myself. It's not like I asked to be here. In this situation.

Maybe it's the screams that Kiaran screams. The ones like shattering glass and the ones like angels wailing.

But I am Kiaran.

But I'm also Sebastian so I can be kind, right? Yes, I can be soft and innocent.

I think.

Fuck you, Daddy dearest, for putting these confusing thoughts inside my already messed up head.