My face will forever be your canvas. I'm still waiting for you to give me my guyliner phase. ...By the way, while I've got you here... thanks for hanging out with Perdy while I was gone. She was really shaken up at the beginning but you totally cured her, she's so happy now. I owe you a lot for that.
I have about two hours to kill before my next scene and I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself because for the first time ever, I left my sketch pad at home. I think I might be going a little nutty without it.
His head slipped from its spot on his palm, and he jerked himself awake.
Beside him, his lawyer cleared his throat.
"…If the younger Mr. Gallagher would like to stay conscious, we could try to get this hearing underway." said the judge, who had spent the morning dodging paparazzi outside her courthouse, and was understandably upset.
Dorian nodded sheepishly, and ran a hand through his unruly hair. He’d awoken early this morning, trying to get himself to look as presentable as possible. If he was going to prove today that he didn’t need his parents, he figured he should probably avoid coming in looking homeless. Even if at the end of this, he would be, technically, homeless.
But no matter what he tried, he was never really able to get his hair right.
He was still with his parents at this point. Technically. He lived in their house, anyway. He wasn’t sure if they even noticed that, but they hadn’t left for the hearing without him today, like he’d expected them to, even if they didn’t talk to him the entire way over.
He’d given them notice about the hearing, like he was required to.
He told them they could either consent to it, or contest it in court.
Either they wanted him or they didn’t.
The fact that they were here right now should have meant that they did. That they’d seen the light, and come to their senses, and wanted to be parents for once. That they wanted to keep their child.
But what they wanted was the extra income he’d been generating.
His father was looking at his cell phone under the table now, and his mother was applying lipstick with a little compact mirror, and he didn’t have to wonder where his lack of concentration came from.
He told himself he was playing a part. This character had his name, and his situation, and unfortunately his parents, but he was not sleepy, and not bored, and not angry, and not at all afraid.
No matter what the outcome of this hearing was - whether he ended up back with his parents or ended up on his own - he knew he’d be scared.
But he wasn’t Dorian Gallagher the terrified 15 year old nearly-homeless boy. He was Dorian Gallagher the character. The confident legal adult with really awesome hair.
"Now," the judge continued, "as you know, if this petition is granted, the minor, Dorian Henry Gallagher, will be considered to be over the age of majority for the purposes set forth in California Family Code section 7050. He will be permitted to consent to medical treatment, to apply for a work permit, and to enroll in school or college. He must, however, give up his right to be supported by his parents. He must still attend school, he may not get married without parental consent, and, in most cases, will remain under juvenile court jurisdiction if he commits a crime. Is all of this clear to all parties?"
It was.
And over the course of the hearing, it became clear to all parties that Dorian was better off on his own.
He explained that he was making more than enough money to support himself. He explained that he could find a place to live on his own. He explained that he understood enough about his situation to have found the proper documentation to file his emancipation petition on his own, which showed how serious he was about this.
The judge started off side-eyeing and eye rolling, and Dorian knew it was partially because of his job. He was a child actor. She probably thought he’d end up like Britney Spears, randomly shaving off all of his beautiful hair in a drugged up night on the town. But he didn’t want to get away from his parents so he could have parties. He wanted to get away from them so he could have a life. And maybe a little bit of say in it.
His parents did their best to tell the judge they were good parents. They kept Dorian fed and housed and clean, but the judge’s side-eyeing quickly turned onto them when it became clear that the one thing Dorian had never had enough of was love. …And then once it came out that they’d been stealing all the money he’d made from his last five years of working, nothing they could say could save them.
The judge quickly approved the petition, and signed Dorian’s Declaration of Emancipation.
He walked downstairs and filed it at the counter.
And it was done.
He walked into the courtroom a child, and walked out a legal adult.
His parents were still his parents, technically.
But they walked down the courtroom steps away from their son without a single look back.
Dorian wanted to feel bad. A normal person would feel bad for essentially divorcing their parents, wouldn’t they?
But it was their fault he’d never be normal.
So as they got into their stupidly expensive shiny silver car and drove away, Dorian stood alone on the steps, and smiled.
—-
The next few months were the happiest of Dorian’s life.
He was free.
He could go where he wanted, and do what he wanted, and he didn’t have to answer to anybody.
He started loving his job again, now that his mother wasn’t shouting at him from the sidelines on set.
He got his learner’s permit and made his agent drive around with him.
Once he was working on a movie with Russel Crowe and he made Russel Crowe drive around with him.
He ate what he wanted, bought what he wanted, chose the roles he wanted to play, and finally felt in control of his own life.
—-
But like it always is, Dorian’s happiness was short lived.
He got the call while he was driving.
As soon as it had stopped raining, he’d grabbed the nearest adult (who happened to be a friendly janitor working in his new apartment building named Bert) and ran to his car.
Dorian loved driving. It felt like freedom. Like he could just keep going forever if he wanted, and end up anywhere. He could go to Mexico, or Canada, or New York City. He had the world at his fingertips, and it was just him (and Bert) and the open road.
When his phone started ringing, he turned down the radio, and pulled over to the side of the road to avoid a crash.
He still thinks that’s kind of ironic now.
For the life of him, to this day, Dorian can’t recall who called him, or what exactly they said.
His parents had been driving in the rain.
Something about an awards show.
Somethng about a transport truck.
Slippery roads.
Someone wasn’t paying attention.
…They crashed.
They didn’t survive.
No matter how much you think you hate somebody, no matter how manipulative and horrible they were to you, or how free you feel once you’re finally without them… if you loved them even a little, even once, it’s still a punch to the gut when they’re gone completely.
There was a press conference.
A memorial service.
A funeral.
The paparazzi got a lot of good shots of Dorian wearing black and looking devastated.
But he wasn’t devastated. He knew he should be. A normal person would be devastated when their parents die in a car crash, wouldn’t they?
But it was their fault he’d never be normal.
What he felt was numb. A bit broken. Mostly alone.
All the papers reported it as a tragedy. For someone so young to lose his parents.
The media, like the vultures they are, crowded around him, trying to feed off of his misery. Oprah wanted to do a special. He wasn’t even sixteen years old yet and talks of an autobiography were swirling around. He kept getting scripts for darker and darker material, since broken and miserable was apparently how the world wanted to see him.
But through all of it, any sadness they saw was just exhaustion.
Dorian didn’t cry at his parents’ funeral.
Because he’d never believed that they would have cried at his.
I ain’t telling you, you’re going to have to figure it out on your own buddy. You think I’m like her, and my dad? I never really thought that I was, but suppose I look at myself in a different way to others. Thanks man, I appreciate you saying that. I’ve been avoiding Max and I feel like shit for it, but he’s just a kid and I don’t want him to see me like this, you know? I’ll agree to go once, but if I’m not comfortable then I’m not going back. I don’t need a shrink. I’m fine. Like you said, been through worse. I’ll just write it all down and then burn the paper like I usually do.
I just looked it up on Urban Dictionary on my phone and it says it's UK prison slang, and I'm going to back slowly away from you now. 'Course I do. I mean... everybody's a bit like their parents, whether we want to be or not, but you lucked out. I'm sure Max got the steel strength too, and even if he didn't, seeing you will be more important to him than any illusions he had of you being indestructible. Yeah, sure, and I'll just go back to ignoring my problems until I explode and destroy the living room again. Sounds like a great plan. I'm doing this shit because I'm over being a fucking crazy person, and I'm dragging you with me until you admit you're one too.
YOLO » {listen} If the wheel comes off your car, hammer in a nail or two. Before it falls apart, add in more nails and glue.
1. The Motto - Drake ft. Lil Wayne // 2. Rubik's Cube - Dorian Gallagher // 3. Hips Don't Lie - Shakira ft. Wyclef Jean // 4. Model Homes - In Flight Safety // 5. Macarena - Los Del Rio // 6. Tomato in the Rain - Kaiser Chiefs // 7. Take the Right One - Bombay Bicycle Club // 8. With a Little Help from My Friends - The Beatles
Don’t tell me things like that, I might just start to believe it. I love you for you, you div. Which isn’t very okay at all, is it? Yeah, I know she is - she’s gotten through way worse. Several times. I wish I could be more like her. I…skimmed it. It’s about a boy who writes to his favourite author. It starts out with questions for a book report about him, but then they talk about all of the things going on in his life. Hey, maybe you can write to me even though I’m technically not an author nor your favourite, but I could be your shrink and I could just not go to see one. Sounds good to me.
Did you just call me a div? What the hell is a div? I don't like you anymore. ...Wait, are you kidding? You're kidding, right? You're exactly like your mom. And the parts that aren't, you're like your dad. And then you've got some shit that's just you, which is where the annoying bits come in, but your whole family is awesome and I'm not worried about any of you. I'm not writing you letters about my life, and you're not changing the subject to avoid going to a shrink. If I have to go, you have to go. It'll be shitty, but we've both been through worse.
Craigory may actually be the most amusing thing I’ve hear today that’s brilliant haha. Well it actually makes more sense it’s Joanna cause if it was Josephine wouldn’t it be like… Josey? I don’t know that doesn’t sound all that great either ignore that.
….Who was born in the beginning of the 1900 so my point stands. I’ll probably like it when I’m older but it’s just to mhe right now i guess.
He hated me so much for that, but I still think it's hilarious. Joey Potter on Dawson's Creek was named Josephine. Not that I ever watched Dawson's Creek, but you know, I know things and stuff...
You know who's named Dorian? Some creepy dude who literally sold his soul in order to be attractive forever. This is what my parents wanted for me. You should be grateful okay?
Oh, so my mum abandoned our game of hide and seek for your ugly mug? Typical. It’s only because you bought her lunch. Is she alright? Won’t talk to me much about anything to do with her, it’s all just questions about me. I just want my mum to answer me when I ask her how she is, even if she’s shitty because of me. I can…help. Um…Dear Mr. Henshaw. It was my favourite as a kid.
That she did, I've always told you she likes me better than you. Shh, she loves me for me, okay, at least someone around here does. She's as okay as a person can be in this kind of situation. She's stronger than steel, your mom, she'll be fine. You can help by getting your shit together. Did you look over the list of shrinks I found? I want us to go to the same one so we can talk shit about them after. I've never read it, what's it about?
To be honest, I'm just impressed that's actually your name. Sometimes I just make up long versions of people's names and it's not really their name. One time I called my friend Craig Craigory. Like Gregory. He wasn't amused. And did you know Jo's name isn't Josephine? It's Joanna, apparently. So lame. Anyway Katherine's a cool name. It's classy, you're like a Hepburn. Yesss, I love food. You're nice to me.
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