Because You're Young

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   Pure black; grey velvet sheets pouring through the window from outside's dawn. Pierrot's eyes blinked carefully open, and peered around the room, which seemed oblivous to the fact it was morning, as everything in it was still coated in darkness. Quietly peeling off his covers so as not to disturb Serious Moonlight, his no-nonsense-before-noon room-mate. Well, frankly, Serious was no-nonsense at all, really, thought Pierrot. Slinking out into the hallway, Pierrot relaxed. He loved this time of day. It was his time. No one was up, and therefore no one could see him. Walking to the loo, he pondered his role in this new house. He never was sure if he was afraid of everyone, and he didn't talk to them because of it, or if they were afraid of him and that was why they didn't talk to him. Either way, he was shy, and no one liked him at all. He wasn't...unlikable, he thought, just very, very quiet, and odd. He rarely even talked to himself!

   The leader of the house, Dave, had found the timid mime underneath a bridge, makeup smeared and taking refuge from the sleet and rain. He had taken Pierrot home saying, "I know who you are!" over and over again. Then he went on about how he kept 'finding' pieces of his personality that ran off, and he was collecting them all so they wouldn't terrorise anyone else. Pierrot had just kept quiet and nodded, thoroughly confused. He must have been the latest 'persona' Dave had thought he found. However, Dave's decision was obviously his own, as the others...well, they hadn't exactly taken a shine to him.

   Ziggy Stardust, a peculiar Martian, and Hunky Dory, a sweet, kind tranvestite still shrieked and ran when Pierrot entered a room, though the latter was the nicest in the house. The outcast, now in the bathroom, looked in the mirror at his short, bright red hair, and pale, delicate face. Patting in a thick, white, talc-y powder, he began to assemble the mime's mask he wore daily. He had first entered the house with the makeup on, and he'd noticed that if he went without it, he would look just like everyone else---literally, which he thought strange. And, he realised, he may be mistaken for the Duke, a crack-addicted, short-tempered miserable man, since they had similar hair and similar permanently sad expressions. So, Pierrot put on makeup every day now, and made sure no one saw him without it.

   Now finished, he scuttled back to his shared room. He drew back an instant as his eyes adjusted, then picked out a creamy white shirt with a tall, ruffled collar, grey trousers, and a small, conical hat with one green and one blue puff on it, placed askew on his gelled hair. Smiling at his choice, he realised it was the first time he would be wearing anything but his French full miming costume.

   Silently racing down the carpeted stairs, beaming broadly, he vaulted into a flip down the last few steps and landed as softly as a bee on a flower. Clowns and mimes have to be nimble, he mused, settling on the couch like a hunched up bird. He flipped on the telly, left it on mute, and waited for the day to start, staring blankly at the moving pictures.



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   "Dave! Dave, dang it, listen to me!"

   Pierrot snapped out of sleep, jumping off the couch in his alarm. Glancing around the room quickly, he saw a red-haired man in a glittering  leotard yelling up the stairs. Recognising Ziggy, Pierrot zoomed behind the couch and watched from the hidden shadows.

   "Dave, someone needs to make food, because I am not! I don't want to ruin my outfit, and I don't feel like it," the Martian slipped into whining. At that, Thomas, or Majour Tom as he was called, slid down the banister, and rolled his eyes at Ziggy.

   Flicking Ziggy's forehead, Thomas scoffed,"You're such a downer, you know that? I'll make something for you, 'Your Highness'!" Just then, a slight poofing noise sounded just behind Pierrot. Pierrot leaped backwards, nearly knocking into the television set as King of the Goblins, Jareth, strode past the painfully shy mute.

   "Pardon me, you twits," The king smirked,"But I am the only 'Highness' here," He threw out a leg at Pierrot, cowering beside him. "Out of my way, you little spider,"

   A door shut down the hall, and Glass Spider came down, glaring at Jareth. "Nothing wrong with spiders, you rat. And just because we don't like him doesn't mean you have to insult him," Pierrot straightened up a bit, happy that someone stuck up for him.

   Pierrot crept around the side table, skirted behind Ziggy so the star wouldn't shriek at him, and bounded desperately up the stairs. He had forgotten how quickly the ground level filled up with people. Backing down the hallway, afraid someone would come up the stair and yell at him for something, (he was constantly blamed for most things that happened in the house, from stolen makeup to broken studio equipment,) his back hit something soft and warm. Eyes wide, he turned to see Hunky Dory staring at him, mirrored expressions and open mouth. Dory took a deep breath, but before he could utter a sound, the whitefaced man clamped a small hand over his mouth. "Please don't scream again," the mime whispered, so softly and low that one could barely hear it.

   Dory's face relaxed, yet his eyes grew wider still. Grappling with Pierrot's hand, he tore it off his mouth. "You...you can talk? Far out..." he muttered, almost to himself.

   "Yes, but please, don't tell anyone, I don't want to have to talk to them..." Pierrot trailed off, sadly, face pinched with worry. Not waiting for Dory's reply, he whisked away to his room, and shut his door.

   "Uhm...hey, buddy..." came a confused voice from the centre of the bedroom. Whipping around to search for the voice, Pierrot saw Serious Moonlight standing there, staring at him, in only a towel and hairspray bottle in his hand. "Listen. This may be our room, but, uh...ship out for a few minutes, yeah? Jesus," he shot, walking over to a floor length mirror. Squeaking near-silently in embarassment, Pierrot ran out of the room, leapt down the stairs, and was stopped by the Thin White Duke.

   "Where ya goin', kid?" Snapped the tense man, grinning cruelly. "Got somewhere to be? Why the rush?" Duke grabbed Pierrot's arm in an iron vise. Shoving him onto the floor, Duke laughed. Pierrot whimpered and struggled to get up. A hand appeared in his line of vision, then. Tracing up the arm to a smiling face, he saw Hunky Dory standing above him. Dory grabbed Pierrot's hand and gently pulled him up. Flashing a sad smile at the long haired man, he blindly bolted out of the chaotic house and collapsed on the lawn.

   Gazing at the sky, a tear glided down his face, leaving a track in his makeup. He had started off his day in a good mood...then everyone woke up, and everything spiraled down from there. A woman jogging by in the street gave him a peculiar look, then glanced up at the house; understanding and disgust passed across her face. Maybe he should move out, he surmised. No one liked him, if they knew he existed, and the house was chaotic, scared him, and no one else in the world obviously liked it. Since he moved in, he hadn't been able to find a new local fair to work in when they found out what his address was. They all probably thought he was crazy. What's new, he realised, everyone thought so.



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   Pierrot shut the door to his room and slumped down onto the woolly carpet, pondering the lousy day he'd had. After the stressful morning, he had had to wait until late afternoon, when everyone would be napping, out of the house, or absorbed in what they were doing in order for him to sneak back into the house without being noticed. Even so, he had run into Serious Moonlight again, which made Pierrot's face flare pink under his streaked makeup, as he didn't want to have to confront him about the awkward encounter of earlier that day. Pierrot peeled himself reluctantly off the floor then, and scuffled through the empty corridor to the washroom, and, grabbing a hand towel, began to wearily rub and scrape the makeup off of his drawn face. He was just done with everything. He knew his makeup wouldn't make a whit of difference, but he felt, today, that with it on, he was just pulling off a farce. Face scrubbed clean, he shambled to his bedchamber. Picking up a small acoustic guitar that sat proudly in the corner, he began to strum a few different chords and hum, kicking his legs against the edge of the bed.

   Gaining confidence, probably out of sheer boredom and the fact that the house was silent, he strummed ever louder and even began to sing. "Psychodelicate..." He trailed off and cleared his throat, trying again. "Psychodelicate girl, come out to play! Little metal-faced boy, don't stay away..."


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   "Because you're young...You'll meet a stranger some night!" He frowned, caught in the emotion of the song. "Because you're young...What could be nicer for you? And it makes me sad..." Pierrot looked down, at his still-swinging feet. "So I'll dance my life away...A million dreams! A million scars..." Trailing off with a long note, Pierrot set the guitar down, elated that he had come up with a song on the spot and that his voice has sounded alright. He used to sing a bit, in between his miming acts, so he knew some how to sing, and a few chords. He had forgotten how nice it was. Getting up from the bed, Pierrot turned to the door and froze in his footsteps. Almost everyone in the house was standing right outside his door, faces in various stages of shock and wonder.

   "Well, I didn't right know you could talk, let bloody well alone sing!" Came Jareth's haughty voice, tinged with shock.

   Just then, Ziggy pushed through the crowd. "I...I think you have a pretty voice. And you're handsome without that makeup. You just are creepy," He said matter-of-factly, as if it was supposed to be an apology.

   Pierrot's eyes teared up. "Thank you, Ziggy..." he whispered.

   "Oh, c'mon, you!" Dory piped up, crushing his new friend in a hug. "I'm so, so sorry I was afraid of you, I...I suppose I just assumed,"

   Jareth waved his hand. "Don't anyone forget he still is creepy," he scoffed, lips curled in disgust.

   Ziggy squealed, "Jare! Don't be mean. You know you love him!" Ziggy then bounded over and crushed Jareth in a hug, eyes gleaming. With that, most of the boys filed to their respective rooms, not wanting to be the next victim to Ziggy's hugs and or advances.

   Dory took Pierrot by the hand. "Come, now. I want you to tell me everything about you. You first, then me,"

   Startled, the quiet mime looked up into the blonde's glittering eyes. "Well, if we're to be friends, we should know about each other!" The hippie grinned.

   Pierrot drew a deep breath. "Well...The first thing I ever remember..."


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