The Band Project - Intervention

((Forenote: The Band Project is a new series of oneshots I'm doing based on fictional bands I've created. They focus on the past, present and future of the members. This particular piece focuses on the past of two members of the group Three Tin Cans, all of whom have completed character files on my OC Files blog, and has brief mentions and suggestions of eating disorders, sexual abuse, sexual predation and child neglect.))

Prince didn't quite recall why he'd been sat alone in the corner of an under heated internet cafe on the run up to Christmas, hunched over in his too thin coat and staring at the computer screen blankly. The screen displayed some article about a hurricane hitting some place he'd never heard of.  He wasn't really sure why he'd opened  it. It was just something to look at, something to do. He was about 17, probably crying, and hopefully somewhere his father wouldn't come looking for him. Although, to be totally honest, Prince's father was more than used to him disappearing for hours without giving any indication over where he might be going. Sometimes, he looked for him or tried  to call him repeatedly, and other times he just gave him a bitterly disappointed look the next time he saw him in the house. It was normal for Prince to be away from home and avoiding his family. Occasionally the girl from college who thought he was anorexic would let him sleep on her sofa as well, so lord only knew when Mr Osbaldeston would see his youngest son next.

Prince didn't look away from the screen when the 12-year-old boy entered the cafe. He just took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and clicked over to a chat site to see if either of his friends were on. He missed the ratty, dirty clothes the boy had on and the way he glanced  around in a mix of excitement and anxiety as he ordered a drink, found he couldn't afford it and went to sit down, but then, all of this only really drew the attention of the person serving him, who asked if he was okay but otherwise left him.

Neither of his online friends were on, so Prince started looking at pictures of pugs. Dogs were his favourite animal, and he loved pugs most of all. Their squished up faces were adorable. He sat there, considering asking his father for a dog for Christmas. That or a new phone. But then again, he probably wouldn't get anything expensive. His birthday had only been two days ago and he'd gotten a drum kit he never intended to use. He didn't even know how to play the drums but he did know something that big didn't come cheap. As harsh as his father was, Prince was pretty sure all the old man wanted from his children was a smile at least once a year  instead  of three perpetually scowling and mentally unstable boys. Father always tried to get his sons to smile again. It wasn't going to happen any time soon.

He started looking up how to get a pug and about these new smartphone things. And how pricey they were, just in case his dad might say yes.

"You don't look like you do in the photos."

Prince paused, cup halfway to his lips, and glanced to the side. A very close and very young voice had said that, and had sounded afraid. A much older voice responded.

"Oh, don't I? I'm sorry. You look exactly like in the photos. Very cute."
"You said you were 14. You said you were 14, but you're not. How old are you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Listen, I'm sorry I lied. I just didn't want to scare you. I know children can be easily frightened, especially those that are vulnerable."
"Uh...yeah..."
Prince turned his head to look. Nobody else was paying them any heed. He figured they were quiet enough that from the back corner of the shop the assistant couldn't hear a word they were saying, and that the business man on his laptop just really didn't care what was going on around him. It was pretty empty. The 12-year-old boy had been joined by a much older man with greasy hair who was currently leering lecherously across the table at  him. It seemed pretty clear to Prince that he'd somehow managed to convince the boy to meet up with him after an online chat and was probably some kind of sexual predator. The man glanced around and Prince quickly turned his attention back to his computer.

"Listen." The  man muttered, dropping his voice low enough that Prince had to strain to hear. "I think we should get going. I can show you around, show you all the best spots around here. This is my home city, after all, I know where everything is."
"I'm not sure I want to any more."
"Nonsense. You've made it all the way out here, you can't just sit inside sulking." He reached across the table and took the boy's hand. Their voices dropped lower and Prince closed his web pages. He watched the man get up out of the corner of his eye. The man was holding the boy's hand and the boy was following, looking confused and uncertain. Afraid, even. Prince got up, paid what he owed and  followed at  a distance.

Prince wasn't sure how long he followed for or how he was never noticed by the man, and ten years later he didn't remember what made him so sure the man was going to do something to the boy then and there. Perhaps it was the way the man had stopped walking, the way his hands were positioned on the boy's body, the look in his eye. Either way, the 17-year-old chose his moment to start running.
"Tyler!" He yelled, using the first name to come  to mind. "Where have you been? What have I told you about going off with strangers?" The man had moved away from the boy, and Prince clamped a hand on the confused boy's shoulders. "I'm sorry about my brother." Prince told the man, giving the most sheepish smile he could.
"You two are brothers?" The man asked, clearly not believing it. After all, the tall, skinny brunette and the tiny blond with the wet eyes looked nothing alike.
"Yup! I came up here with him. He said he wanted to go somewhere, the museum and the cathedral and the Beatles tour, he loves the Beatles, and we were going to the museum, weren't we, Tyler? But then you ran off."
The man narrowed his eyes at the boy. "I thought  you said your name was Franklyn."
"Sorry I lied." Franklyn replied instantly as he moved to cling to his apparent elder brother's skinny frame like a baby monkey. "I thought the name made me sound more grown up." He looked up at Prince for  a moment. "I'm sorry for running off, Matt. But I don't want to go to the cathedral. It sounds boring. That's what you and mum wanted to do. This place sucks. I want to go home."
Prince smiled at him, and then at the man. "And what were you doing with my little brother exactly?"
The man hesitated, then smiled. "The boy was lost. I was helping  him find his family. I'm so glad we found you."
The brunette nodded once more and took the  blond's arm, leading him away quickly. He brought him to some shops and then turned, raising  an eyebrow at the boy.
"Franklyn, was it?"
Franklyn looked at the floor. "Thanks..."
"No problem. Not like I could let him rape you or whatever gross thing he was planning on doing."
The younger boy stiffened. "I didn't think he was gonna do that!"
"Seemed pretty clear to me he was a paedophile. You meet  him online?"
"Mm."
"You can't  just agree to meet people you've only spoken to a few times online.  Seriously, they start talking about meeting up when they know you're a little kid, that's a  huge warning sign, alarm bells everywhere, aooga, aooga!"
Franklyn laughed. "Okay. I'll bear that in mind. Have you ever met up with someone then?"
"I don't trust people I meet online. I don't trust anyone. I have,  like, two friends online, and according to them they're 15 and 12 but I've known  them for years and still don't totally trust them." He frowned, a thought occurring to him. "Franklyn, how old are you?"
"12. I'm not a little  kid, by the way."
"Jeez, I thought you were 7."
"Hey!"
"You don't talk a lot with someone called Nitrogue and someone called Bony Drake on a chat site, do you?"
"...Are you Prince? Because I know Dylan's younger  than you but older than me and also I've seen a picture of him and he has these gross sores on his face like one of Moses' plagues and he's ginger and he's always in hospital-"
"Yes. Yes, I'm Prince."
"Bony Drake."
"Yeah."
"Why Bony Drake?"
"Why not?"
Franklyn shrugged. "You're shivering."
"It's cold. You're shivering too."
"Not as bad as you."
Prince shrugged now.
"Why are you here?" The blond asked him after a moment.
"I've lived in Liverpool my whole life."
"I'm from Manchester. I think that man could tell you were from here. From your accent."
"Probably. He probably knew I knew what he was up to though."
"Are there really museums and cathedrals here?"
"You can see the cathedral from here. Look." He pointed and watched Franklyn's little eyes widen in awe at the sight of the distant architecture.
"Wow. Will you take me?"
"...To the cathedral?"
"Yeah! I've never been to a cathedral before. Or a museum!"
"I thought you said you didn't want to-"
"I was acting. I've never been. Please? What's it like? What is a cathedral?"
"It's like a big fancy church-"
"I wanna go to the fancy church!"
He was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Prince knew he had to say no, but it was surprisingly difficult. And maybe even a 12-year-old boy could find  the cathedral interior fascinating. He wasn't paying for  a guided tour though, no way.
"Okay."
"And then a museum, or...what else is there to do here? The tour?"
"I'm not paying to go on the Beatles tour. Screw you."
"We're definitely going to the cathedral though."
"Yup...but if Dylan ever comes here, I'll have to show him as well."
"Yeah!" And then he slowly stopped bouncing and started  scowling. "We need to get lunch. You need to buy me lunch."
"I don't need  to buy you anything!"
"But there's a McDonald's over there and I'm hungry."
"Buy it yourself."
"I don't have any more money on me."
"Then starve." Prince started walking on towards the cathedral, and Franklyn whined and pulled his arm.
"Please?" He pleaded, giving him his best puppy dog eyes. "I didn't eat today or yesterday. That man paid my train fare and I'm completely broke and my family's never around so this is, like, my only chance to get a proper meal and be with another human being. And I thought you were nice. And I'm hungry!"
Prince sighed as a weird mix of guilt and compassion stabbed him in the chest and checked his wallet. "I don't have much money, and I usually use it at internet cafes."
"But you can afford a burger."
"...Okay. But just a burger."
"Yay!" Franklyn ran into the fast food building and Prince pulled a face of disgust as he approached the building. It smelled and was too colourful and made him feel nauseous and he didn't understand why anyone would ever willingly put that crap into their bodies, but Franklyn was happy. Franklyn looked like this was the best day of his young life as his friend bought him a Happy Meal and he discovered the toy and got excited about all the things he and his friend would do together before he had to get home. And for some strange reason, Prince liked seeing the little idiot smiling. He liked seeing the boy happy, especially since he knew about his terrible home life. Seeing him genuinely smiling and genuinely happy made Prince feel inexplicably...good.

Perhaps this was why his father wanted him to smile again.