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He had been a model, a superstar on the runway. A pretty face in the magazines. But when the cameras were off and the lights were dimmed...he was just another person trying to keep himself sane in the world. And like the best of them, he had gone about it all the wrong way.

First it was just a glass of wine here and there. Then slowly he worked himself up to liquors; finally, he no longer cared what liquid had gone into his body so long as it numbed him from the criticism that came each and every night. Every time he showed his face outside his home.

Too thin. Too fat. Too dark. Too tall. Too quiet. Too calm.

When the ******** would it ever end?

But he had been warned. Told by other models and agents that the press loved nothing more than to make a fool out of a king. And he certainly was a king. They compared him to Michaelango's David... Told him that he was a male Pygmalion in a modern world. And he had soaked it all up. Though, like many others...soon the sweet scent of alcohol did nothing for him. The numbness that had always been a warm blanket grew cold and heartless. Bottles upon bottles no longer did it for him; created that hazy illusion of safety and security.

Finally he took the next step.

It was just one pill. One pill to help him sleep. One pill to relax him before his next job. Next thing he knew...it was three or four pills. He needed something to calm him before the runway and the cameras. The model needed something to make him smile before all those snide and stuck up reporters. Suddenly his sparkle and shine was back. Everyone loved him... Newbies and teenage boys wanted to be in his position; he was hanging off the arm of a beautiful female model every other week.

And still he wanted more.

Suddenly, three and four pills were not enough. The little red and blue caps became blended and blurred in his eyes. Purple was the prized color; handfuls of pills went down his throat as he laughed gleefully at himself. His eyes no longer sparkled but had a dangerous sheen to them. His hands shook but he kept them tucked behind his back. His muscles twitched but what his pills could not fix a good night in bed with anyone could...male or female.

Finally, his big night came. He was up for an award. Too anxious and nervous to even make the red carpet, the model did it. He took the whole bottle. Other models called it the gateway to heaven. Such a haze and a daze of feelings and emotions that was different for each person. His was a most wondrous journey.

Little animals came up and spoke to him. Everything was warm and fuzzy feeling. Clouds sung and birds gossiped but the most amazing thing was that no one could understand him. His language was pure and true; a language not heard by many for eons.

Though everyone else called it babbling.

And when they called his name and he walked to the stage; it was the most magnificent...most wonderful experience in his lifetime. Twenty-five years old and to be winning such an award! But then...what a sad and strange fate....

He could not understand anyone when he got up to the stage. Everyone and everything began to spin slowly out of control. He felt nauseous...sick from his head down to his toes. His legs gave out underneath of him even as his arms flew out to try and grasp the podium. Instead of trying to help him, they only laughed. Laughed at his folly and his fate. On live television, no one cared whether he lived or died.


She shook him gently even as she checked the IVs in his arm. Her smile was like that of an angel's; her hair was a golden halo around her. The nurse was dressed in a basic white uniform even though his eyes believed it to be a gown of pure light. Laughing softly, she wiped the sweat away from his brow.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Your dream should be ending by now."

Indeed, the drugs were out of his system. He knew because not in his wildest hallucinations had he ever seen someone as beauteous as her. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he knew that he would never be in front of the camera again. Nodding slowly, he swallowed even as she leaned down to kiss him.

"Good," she whispered softly. "Because I want to make sure that you come home to my castle."

Soft and pliable lips kissed his dry and parched mouth even as the sun began to set. The night would be for sleeping and clearing out the past even as the next sunrise would be for a new beginning. His new beginning.

The End.