Point out errors you come across please :)
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Guilt. That was a tricky concept wasn't it? Guilt is usually defined as that heavy weight inside one's stomach when they realize they've done something terrible that has made other's suffer at the expense of your own selfishness. Guilt was the distinguishing factor between right and wrong wasn't it? If you did something bad, you'd feel guilt when you wouldn't if you had done the right thing.

That was what Keith had thought, but who knew what guilt meant to him at this point since he sat in a police station with handcuffs on his hands as he whistled to himself. He didn't feel guilty for stealing the stuff he had taken, so did that make it right? He didn't care either way; he was doing something that he wanted to do and to regret doing these things would be like regretting trying to live.

He sat next to a giant, burly man with an ugly scar going across his face that was wearing camouflage pants with tan boots and an old wife beater shirt. Keith's whistling stopped slowly as he lifted his purple eyes to look up at the man's brown ones that were staring at him with such intensity that he looked away almost immediately and pursed his lips in worry.

Then he slowly looked back up, "So," he drew out the 'o' as his eyes trailed down the man's outfit as he noticed blood on his knuckles. "What's up with your style?" He asked without thinking much about the fact that this man could have probably beaten him to a pulp in a second if they weren't both in handcuffs.

The man breathed out slowly making Keith's skin crawl, "Paintball," his voice sounded like he smoked a pack a day and his breath definitely supported that thought. The man's brown eyes wandered over Keith's body slowly, "What's with the Marilyn Manson getup?" He scoffed.

Keith looked down at his clothes in response. He was wearing black torn jeans, an MCR shirt and had eyeliner on; he was trying new things, what do you expect? "Oh, my parents call it a phase, but I actually kind of like it y'know," Keith laughed slightly as he raised his cuffed hands into the air, "I'm here for shoplifting how about you?"

"Someone cheated in paintball, so I taught him a lesson or two," the man smiled triumphantly as if beating the hell out of someone was perfectly normal for him.

Keith smiled in admiration, "Sweet," he nodded before he sat up. "I hate cheaters who think they can get away with whatever they want. They deserve cold, hard justice to be served to them by a man like you!" He stated. He was a brown noser at heart and since he often came to the San Antonio police station, it didn't hurt to suck up to criminals. Right?

The man seemed to be very pleased with this as he smirked slightly, "Cheaters deserve the death penalty, especially those who cheat on their significant others."

Okay maybe this guy was a bit out there, but hey, Keith shouldn't judge others for their personal beliefs. They should be judged by their actions, but by that logic, this guy failed at both. Yikes. "I hate those types of people, I had a boyfriend that cheated on me the last time I had cancer; what a fucker he was."

The man raised a nonexistent eyebrow, "You're gay?" He asked in a disgusting voice.

Keith looked at him with a bleak face, "Even a blind man could tell I'm gay buddy, I mean I give off the gay vibes you get me?" Keith used his hands to talk as he fought against the restrictions of the handcuffs. "Being gay isn't a problem for you is it, discount Louis Armstrong?"

The man stared at Keith in confusion as he narrowed his eyes slightly, "Gay isn't a problem, but who is Louis Armstrong, and did you kill the guy who cheated on you?"

"Nah, I catfished the motherfucker," Keith leaned back in his seat and sighed deeply as he remembered how he made his ex drive two hours away to a cracker barrel out in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes it was fun serving revenge on a fake Instagram. "And Louis Armstrong is just a joke, kind of like the Marilyn Manson one you said a few minutes ago."

"I would've gutted him and sent his body parts to the guy he cheated on you with," The man stated nonchalantly.

Keith swallowed down his nervousness and sat up straight before he nudged the guy, "I like your style, want to give me your number in case I need someone to hide a dead body?" He joked.

"I don't like boys like you."

"Okay then, not what I meant but that's fine."

The two of them sat in silence as the receptionist stared at Keith with his beady eyes. He was named Jeremy; he was a skinny guy that definitely didn't fit in with any of the gorgeous police officers that walked around the office with paperwork or criminals they've got to make reports about. He was maybe about two inches taller than Keith and paler than the light side of the moon; if Keith didn't know his name, he would have mistaken him as Casper the friendly ghost or some stupid shit. He had greased back blonde hair and dark brown, almost black eyes that screamed murder. He hated Keith and the feeling was mutual.

The front doors to the police station were nearly busted down as a tall woman in heels shuffled inside wearing her disgusting Prada shades, a pink blouse, a pencil skirt, and black heels she definitely didn't need. She was blonde and wore too much makeup for her own good, but the moment Keith saw her, he felt himself trying to hide behind the big guy before she could see him.

"Keith!" Her brown eyes locked onto the short teen and she nearly busted into tears as she rushed into the station to hug her son tightly, and against his will. She pulled away and began to shower his pale skin in pink lipstick as she kissed him repeatedly, "I thought my little boy was done for this time, oh my gosh why do you worry me so!"

"Why so dramatic?" Keith grumbled as he managed to get away from his mother to see his father walking inside in his black suit and black hair ruffled. Where Keith got his short genetics was a mystery since they weren't his birth parents.

Close behind his father was his blonde sister who looked annoyed by the fact she had been dragged all the way out here for another Keith related problem. "You can't keep doing these things when you're as sick as you are darling," His mother whined as she stroked his black mullet and tried to keep her tears at bay, "What if your liver acted up when you were out in that dangerous world? My little model wouldn't have anyone to help him!"

How disgusting. She only cared about her son's career and his appearance, what an amazing mother. "Sandra, let the boy go and get those cuffs off of him!" Frederick barked as he looked at the receptionist and pulled out his bulging wallet for cash to pay off the bail for his son.

Sandra reluctantly released her son and ran off to fetch an officer while Keith's sister frowned at him with her arms crossed over her chest. She was in her tennis uniform still meaning that her lessons were cut short because of his stupid antics. Vivian was a year younger than him but she was big in the modeling industry just like him and aimed to become a famous tennis player, she was halfway there. She looked exactly like her mother apart from her brown eyes she got from her weasel looking father. She mouthed the words 'Nice going dipshit' to him and rolled her eyes when Keith shrugged.

"Hey, you should grow a luscious mustache you know," Keith told the creepy man he had been sitting next to him while an officer took the cuffs off of him as his mother cried. "I think it'd take away from your menacing look and totally get you a girl... or guy. Whatever you're into," Keith winked as he walked over to stand next to his sister who was the only person in the family he could stand.

"What's he here for? Murder?" Vivian asked as she popped a bubble with the bubblegum she started to chew.

Keith laughed slightly, "Maybe next time he'll be in for murder, but sadly, no," Keith bit his bottom lip and frowned as he watched his parents fill out paperwork, "He beat up someone who cheated during a game of paintball."

"Hardcore," Vivian smirked as she nudged her older brother.

She wasn't all that bad despite her hardass look. She was someone that Keith could talk to for hours on end about boys and stupid people they had to work with on set or even about the lame gossip in his 'friend' group he stuck around with solely because they gave him excitement in his life that he couldn't get enough of. She wore polos and khaki shorts most of the time especially when she has to spend time with their parents in public, but at home when she wasn't practicing tennis, Vivian enjoyed wearing pajama pants and an old ripped T-shirt with her blonde hair in a bun and no makeup on her face.

"Totally hardcore," Keith agreed as he giggled next to her.

"We're getting really tired of seeing your kid here," Jeremy began as he ran a hand through his slicked back hair, "We can't keep his record clean once he's eighteen you know."

Frederick pursed his lips as he signed paperwork without much haste, "Just take the money and shut up about it already," He barked.

Sandra rolled her eyes before she looked at greasy Casper, "I apologize for my husband, he's having a bad day at the studio and we know we have to get his act straightened out, but you wouldn't understand what it meant to have a job and two kids to look after, would you?" She asked with a cringe worthy laugh.

Jeremy stared at Sandra with annoyance before he reached behind the counter and pulled out a pamphlet, "The chief wants your son to be enrolled into this program, it's supposed to help kids with issues like his," he handed the colorful thing to Keith's mother who looked it over slowly before opening it.

"Oh my, what a cheap price for a year worth of this?" Sandra gasped out loud as if she couldn't believe her eyes which she probably couldn't since she never used money when the price was below seventy dollars. "This actually seems like a good thing to put Keith into, honey," Sandra said with excitement.

Keith frowned, "What is it?"

"A support group for kids suffering from illnesses and everyday things," Sandra smiled at Keith.

Keith felt disgust creep up his body as he cringed, "There's no way I'm going to any support group to talk about my fucked up life with other fucked up kids," He growled before crossing his arms over his chest.

Vivian raised a blonde eyebrow as she stared at her mother in surprise. Sandra had never ever shown any interest in helping Keith through this the troubles he was having with trying to deal with getting cancer for the second time in a row. She only showed an interest if it could boost his career or fix a problem with his appearance.

Sandra shrugged as she pulled out her phone and texted the number provided on the pamphlet, "I wasn't asking what you wanted Keith, I'm the adult so I decide what's best for you."

Keith felt infuriated as his nails dug into his arms. He was pissed. Sandra always did this, she acted like she cared one moment, but when something interested her she became cold towards Keith and pursued only her selfish interests rather than listening to what Keith wanted. "Keith," Vivian smiled gently as she placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "You know how mom is, there's no reason to try to argue with her you know."

Keith frowned as he relaxed slightly, she was right and he hated it. For once in his life he wanted to find his true self and not the identity his parents forced him to take on as a stupid model in their company. He had cancer for the second time now, who knew what could happen to him this time around or if it would ever end. There could be a third time he had this, or possibly a fourth. It could be a never ending cycle for him and that thought scared him every time, so instead of spending his life like how his parents wanted him to, he went out and did reckless things to feel like he was different from his public identity. He wanted to be free.

"Fine," he sighed before he stuffed his hands into his pockets roughly. He wanted to go home already and relax in his room to play video games, watch TV, and eat for the rest of the day. "Can I have my phone back now?" He raised his purple gaze to the receptionist and stepped closer to him with his hand held out.

"Well I guess I have to give it to you don't I, kid?" Jeremy plopped Keith's smartphone into his hand and scowled as he watched the teen walk away.

The very first thing Keith did was check his texts to find his 'friends' talking in the group chat he was in with them;

Guy #1: srry bt Keith getting arrsted wuz his fault OK?

Girl w/pigtails: I thought it wuz rlly cool tho XD

That one guy: wutevs...

Keith cringed slightly as he read the texts; did they not know how to speak like normal people? Keith never took time to put their real names into his contacts just like everyone else he ever texted, they were just going to move on from their friendship eventually once they realized Keith wasn't as cool as his career made him see; he was boring and bland. That's why he was trying new things.

"Emo kids again?" Vivian asked as she peeked over at his phone.

"Yeah," Keith mumbled as he locked his phone.

The ride home was nothing less than annoying as Sandra raved about this 'Scott's Sunshine Support Group' she enrolled Keith into for the next day. It was a place where they turned kids with fucked up issues into an honorary citizen with only positivity to spread to the world around them so it was basically like a pray the gay away camp, but for teens who have mental or emotional issues that was year round.

Keith was not looking forward to it; all he could imagine was seeing emotional jackasses there who would whine about their daddy issues or even how they were self-conscious over their body image; stuff Keith couldn't give two shits about. They were probably all special snowflakes who acted like the world was out to get them, you know the modern day teen.

Once they arrived to his house Keith went straight to his room before he locked his door and collapsed onto his bed with a sense of dread. It was already night time and he held no motivation to leave the room unless it was to go sit in the private garden outside of his room where he enjoyed spending his time at when he wasn't raising hell on the streets with his 'emo' friends who would cry over My Chemical Romance or another emo band.

Keith loved the feeling he got when he was around those three delinquents that often got him into trouble; he felt like he was alive. He hated falling into the social norms where he would wear the fashion any rich boy his age would wear, he didn't want to date girls, he didn't want to post douchebag selfies, and he didn't want to have people recognize him on the streets. He wanted to be a normal teen boy again from back before he got his cancer and before people started following him on social media just because he was attractive and famous; he wanted to have a normal family with parents that actually loved him for him, not the amount of cash he gives them.

He sat up in his large bed and stared out his window into the beautifully lit garden outside. His room was rather plain for someone like him; he had no decorations at all aside from a TV and game system and a mirror on top of his dresser where he had his makeup at for when he had to make public appearances. Slowly he pushed himself off of the mattress and walked over to the glass door that separated his room from the outside before he twisted the handle and stepped outside to be greeted by the sounds of nature.

The garden wasn't anything special to a normal person; there were lights, flowers, bushes, insects, dirt, more dirt, and a large pond in the middle. Most would say the best feature of Keith's little garden was the fact that the roses were so vibrant compared to the ones you'd find in a store but to Keith, the pond was the best feature especially at night. In the pond were koi fish he had raised since he was a ten year old, there were orange, white, red, even salmon colored koi. They were his favorite fish and he had made the pond a suitable place for his fish with the appropriate plants in it along with small minnows. He could sit there and talk to the pond as if it were a person for hours, he knew all there was to know about koi and the little critters were his life. Aside from that detail, the other feature about the pond he loved were the star's reflection on its surface.

It was as if one could see each individual star in the pond as he koi swam by making the surface ripple. Keith loved the stars; he would often find himself looking to them for guidance during his worst moments in life. Keith looked down at his fish and sighed deeply as he dipped his hand into the pond before giggling at the feeling of the fish nibbling at his hand thinking it was food.

Perhaps there could be people at that support group that could like Keith for his interests rather than his public identity.

That would be better than any wish he had ever made on a star.

This chapter was much shorter than Lance's because there wasn't much to elaborate on aside from the fact Keith has cancer (again) and that he was being a rebel so he could find his place in society.

Any questions? Leave them in the comments and I'll get back to you ASAP, and leave constructive criticism please so I know how to improve this :)