Author's note: Hope you like this! Read author's note below by the way. I feel accomplished! I finally transcribed the Musician's song on piano! I know there are notes but I just wanted to see if I could do it...and I did! HWEHWE! :D

Even in the midst of flowing time,
Look, listlessness dances round and round.
I can't even see my heart,
As it withdraws from me, I don't care.

-Bad Apple opening.

The dark dirty streets of London held an overwhelming and eerie silence. Truth be told, it was not deathly silence - no - there was sound. The sound of rubbish bins clattering, constant meows from furry lithe creatures, whose eyes glowed in an odd fashion.

Footsteps resounded in the awfully quiet street. The splashing of puddles being stepped on echoed. Down the moon illuminated cobbled road, was a small figure. Skinny, although it wore the most baggiest of clothing. Perhaps due to the fact that it had no money except for a few nicked coins from flashy noblemen that had passed during the day.

By the faint silhouette, the figure ought to be a male - a boy - no older than the age of 12. Unruly shoulder-length red-brown hair was tied up in a mid-high ponytail. Grime and blood made his hair darker than it should be.
His eyes were like metal; hard and cold. Emotions didn't slip at least one bit from those mercury orbs. They were shut like a gate.
And just like that, it was obvious he too, was covered in masks and walls; walls high and thick.

"That bastard..." The boy cursed lowly, but by no means inaudibly. A scowl visible on his features. His hands were in his pocket as he kicked astray rocks on the ground. Head held down, he continued to walk.

But where?

Meters away was a place filled with brightness and laughter. Gold and red stood out as they decorated the giant main circus tent. There were people crowded in that one area that it made the boy sick - and perhaps paranoid.
Although, if it weren't for a certain disfigurement, then he'd be like the rest. Oblivious and naïve to things that go around daily. With loving and spoiling parents that will shroud you in such, that when out in the real world, it is completely different from your expectations.

But that wasn't the case for him. He had been abandoned and left to the horrors of the streets at a very tender age of...he didn't know. No one in fact knew.
It would remain a mystery of the past. Because even if he did know, it wouldn't change anything in the present.
It wouldn't change the looks thrown at him or the snide comments or the insults or the daily beatings! It wouldn't change a thing.

Step by step did he go, up the slight hill and past the crowds. He kept going, barely brushing anyone's shoulders as he went.
He was like a shadow, no one noticing him as they continued to talk and laugh. Finally, the auburn-haired boy made it to the tent.

A sudden noise of skin being hit rang out. "WHAT WAS THAT FO-"
He was stopped by the Ringleader who grasped his hair and tugged. The other stumbled in the grip but then steadied himself to claw at his hand in order to break free. The older let out a pained hiss and curse.

"RED...You brat!" The man yelled as punched the younger in the face. 'Red' spat out blood and now had an aching bruise on his face.

"Fuck you!" Red shouted as he swung his fist at Cosimo. The ringleader scowled as he got hit. He then moved to grab Red and was about to throw him to the ground, but he realised the time. Cosimo let out a growl.

"You're lucky. Get ready you freak." He spat at the child. The latter wiped the blood that dripped from the corner of his mouth and then snarled.

"Bloody git."

oOoOoOo

There he was, performing for a large crowd. Awe's and gasps erupted as he did each trick. Although, it was the same. Everything was the same.
It was always like this. After every country, city, town...
He had always so the same reaction. As good as it might be; how was he supposed to grin and smile?
His face ached of forcing an amused and cheerful expression as he juggled at least 10 balls while standing on one leg atop of 3 big different sized balls.

As difficult as it sounds; it was quite easy for Red. This was nothing!

oOoOoOo

The performance ended like always, and then off Red went, to his tent. It was the same as all of them - perhaps a bit smaller.
The floor was of dirt, but everything he needed was there.
He walked up to the dresser and placed both hands in the desk.
He looked into the mirror and saw himself. Clown makeup was painted over his face. And though clown makeup wasn't that attractive, it somehow looked good on Red.

Red gave a smile - if not forced - and he stared at the expression. A frown quickly tore its way to his features.
The smile never reached his eyes. It never did.
His eyes cast down to his trembling arms and hands.

It was so lonely. He felt alone.
He wanted someone to accept him. To not beat him, insult him, run away... He wanted to feel like every other kid. The same feeling of a parent's love. Perhaps a lover - though he didn't dwell on that.

Red felt his legs give out. His knees hit the ground, but no sign of pain was shown directly.
His grasp on the dresser was strong - white knuckles proving that.
It was though the wooden furniture was his lifeline.

It hurt a lot. His heart. It was filled with such loathing and desperation that even such an odd rotund man couldn't even comprehend it.
Not even that 'man' could believe such a person existed!

But Red very much existed. His existence maybe small...probably insignificant, but it was there. For God knows what reason.

That was another thing Red dwelled on:

Why had he existed?

He got up from the floor and walked up to the bed. Then, he collapsed on to the bed with pure exhaustion, from both the performance and thinking. He turned around so that his back was to the bed. Eyes closed and was slowly on the brink of sleep.

At these moments, Red just wanted to fall into sweet oblivion. But sweet oblivion was something he could never - have – get. It was something that only children from higher ranks could get. And he could admit it:

He was jealous.

Jealousy…It was an odd feeling. It was one of the feelings he'd have the most and that wasn't a good thing. Nor were the feelings of loathing, despair, anger, disgust, and self-hate.

Why could he only feel negative things?

It was like he could never grasp the positive feelings. No matter how much he wanted –needed- them.

Before he could think of anything else, his mind went blank. It was a black abyss of nothingness and emptiness. Although, it was peaceful. Well, at least more peaceful than his life could ever get.

Sleep…It was very important for Red. It was a time where he could forget everything, his past worries and the horrible memories.

oOo0o0oOo

"Is he dead…?"

"Why aren't you crying? Wasn't he your friend?"

"I'm so sad that I could die."

"But it seems my tears have all dried up…"

"DON'T DRAG ME IN THIS! I AM NOT ALLEN! I'M RED!

A PATHETIC DEMON-SPAWN WHO DOESN'T DESERVE ANYTHING!"

oOo0o0oOo

Nine years.

Nine years did he spend in the circus – and ongoing. The same routine would happen every day. Wake up, get ready, eat, practice, eat, practice, get beaten, eat, practice, jobs, practice, eat, sleep.

Long right?

But it was the same. It was so similar every time, it was frightening. It was like the day repeated, but Red knew it didn't! It was like going through the same Hell over and over again.

Why isn't his mind broken?

It is.

It has been broken from the beginning. Ever since 'God' decided he'd put him into existence. It was 'fate' to begin with. And there was nothing he could do. He didn't have the tools to make his own path. His own 'road'. Red couldn't 'Keep moving Forward'- as that foolish, old and crazy clown said to him once.

Once again, the trail of thoughts had been brought back to 'that clown'. That stupid clown; Mana Walker

That 'idiot' – as Red liked to call him – got himself killed by an accident. Although it wasn't Red's problem, since he wasn't there, he couldn't feel but pity – and slightly envious – that he died.

Mana had tried to make him open up, but Red never budged. Too fallen and confined, that he couldn't break the chains and destroy the walls.

So in the end, Red lost that chance.

Which brought him to the present. Still a clown, but with less beatings now that he was stronger and could fight back better.

But there was something. Something that he felt when he gazed at the sunset. The dark sky filled with stars…and the sunrise. The feeling of longing and want.

But what was it?

It was what they called freedom.

But what exactly was freedom? What was it to Red? All he'd ever really known was to survive. Not once had freedom crossed his mind. But who was to blame him? He had to survive. That was the first priority for everyone who lived on the street.

Maybe…

Maybe he could travel by himself? He could use the all his safely earned money. It wasn't much, but it would do.

He could even get money along the way. Maybe a few thousand would do?

If he was going to do this, then he'd have to pack and head to the Casino.

'Screw this. I'm leaving this damned place.'

Author's note: Did you like it? Review, favourite and follow please! Pairings if you must, and help me think of a title! I don't like this title! DX
This will sound...not like me but, I won't accept Poker Pair because, well. I want to use a different pairing. I also want a pairing that'll help poor angsty Allen, so, no one from the Noah's side. I am NOT doing Yullen. That's final. I already had to cancel out my most favourite pairing, so don't even suggest Yullen. I don't think it's bad or anything but please, just no. Not this fic.

LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER! Can we at least get 15 reviews before next chapter that I will work on. (sorry for the spacing, I did this on my phone.)