The weight of whispers

I knew all along what I signed up for when I had to be confident about myself. I still don't understand why people find it difficult to accept us. I believe there would be a time when we would walk freely without judgemental eyes, I hope I witness that day soon. I know there are others like me, but still hiding in their shadows, all seeking validation from the public.I clenched my books against my chest as I strode down the hall, pretending not to notice the eyes that lingered on me.“Why would a cute boy do this to himself?” I heard someone in the crowd say. My stomach fluttered. I had to lower the book against my belly as if to hide the flutter in it, and tuck the strands of wig behind my ear.I had to look straight as I strode. One of the students stuck his foot out, this made me trip. I stumbled as I launched forward. As usual, laughter rolled across the hall. I just had to keep going, ignoring their voices. I needed to rest my head on my bed. Today was hell of a stressful one.

There was a party held for freshers, and honestly, this is the most excited I’d been in a long time here. Even though I never really felt welcomed. I loved a lively place and I wouldn't be absent myself. Noise, lights, people dancing off-beat — yes, count me in. The room was empty when I was getting dressed. Sebastian was nowhere in sight — probably off with his noisy friends, or with some girl stuck to his lips, or maybe on the other side of the world for all I cared. No, scratch that, I barely gave a damn.Tonight was for me. Just me. I'll prove it to them.I had ordered the gown from Temu, and for once in my life, an online order came out exactly like the picture. It fit my body so perfectly I swear the designer must have known my measurements from the womb. I didn’t even need to adjust anything; it hugged my waist and sat on me like it was made just because I existed, and that’s exactly the kind of love I needed.My hair? Inspired by the Kardashians. Yes, the Kardashians. And th

I sat on my chair, glaring at the homework Mrs. Shapeson gave us, my head already burning. The words stared back at me, refusing to make any sense.“I better grow some new brain cells,” I muttered, exhaling deeply. I needed to clear my head right now and annoyingly, the first thing that came to my mind was Sebastian. Hell no!Immediately, I shrugged the thought of him and leaned back onto my chair.“I’ll just have to believe the horror I saw was truly a dare,” I told myself.Calling it a horror felt dramatic, but honestly, Sebastian being that character? God help me, that was frightening enough. I slammed my pen on the desk in frustration as I stood up, and grabbed my phone. And then my face brightened.Isaiah.Just thinking about him made my chest feel lighter. Actually, I've known him for just a few days, but my body felt like it had known him for years.“I should call him,” I said with a soft giggle as I bounced onto the bed, then I grabbed my pillow and hugged it like a lonely i

I jolted upright the moment cold water sprinkled my face, my body reacted before my mind caught up. My eyes flew open as my chest heaved. For a split second, everything was enveloped with light—and then I thought I saw Sebastian. His face, sharp and unreadable, hovered in my vision like a ghost. Then it cleared.It was Isiah.I gave in a deep sigh. Why is Sebastian still messing with my head? No—actually, what is wrong with me?“Are you okay?” Isiah asked, worry cutting through his voice as he bent over me. He stretched out his hand to me, waiting.“I think so,” I muttered, gripping his hand and pulling myself up. My head throbbed, but I stayed on my feet.A boy’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Lucas! Isiah! Mr. Clark wants you in his office. Now!”And just like that, he disappeared.Mr. Clark was the dorm officer. If It was I and Isiah that were hurt, this would’ve been brushed aside. But Maxwell and Tristan? That was a different story. My stomach tightened as we started walking. I

Sebastian’s POVI’m gay. No one knows. Not my parents. Not my closest friends—Tristan, Maxwell, and Layla. No one. And it has to stay that way.If my parents ever found out, my life would end quietly but completely. No screaming. No drama. Just restrictions, prayers, and shame wrapped in the name of love. My mother believes people like me are possessed. She says homosexuality is a demon that sneaks in when faith is weak. According to her, our wealth, our comfort, the life we live now, those are rewards from God. Proof that righteousness pays. And she guards that belief like it’s the foundation of everything we have built.She wouldn’t hesitate to destroy me just to keep that foundation standing.Growing up, I knew something about me was different long before I had the words for it. Whenever my eyes landed on a shirtless guy—at the pool, on the field, even in passing—my thoughts slipped somewhere dangerous. My chest tightened. My stomach flipped. I’d look away fast, pretending nothing h