The Last Flameling of Solnis

Damage

In a single chime, a good thing is ruined.

     Wow. What a way to ask the burning question. And from a best friend no less. Was I to expect this if ever anyone found me out? I mean the people of Black Hills are supposed to be astute and enlightened. The apples that fall from their trees are supposed to stick close to their roots.

     And faggot is just a word, right? It's just one of those ignorant, preprogrammed responses to a thing that drifts further away from a biased, societal norm.

     By that logic, it should be easy to reject. It shouldn't hurt, but it's the same as going on vacation with my mom and dad and hearing a racist white man call my father a nigger for taking a restaurant parking space he felt entitled too.

     There's a desire to do damage as he grips his steering wheel even though we've taken that word back. Even though the fear of being seated next to us after such an assault probably sent that man to a different restaurant completely.

     And mom, always the one to temper dad's common rage, grabs his arm and reminds him to breathe as the racist coward has already driven away.

     I feel as angry as my dad did. And just as unable to act. I stare at Dustin's iMessage unsure how to respond. Then those three agonizing dots roll in a wave underneath his message leaving me on edge as my phone continues it's cryptic buzz. The notifications come from all over—Instagram, Facebook, Twitter.

     'Wtf is this?'

     His message, his demand of the truth, comes abruptly. The sound of the chime is an accusation that makes me jump. Attached to his message is a video. A screen recording of a poppin' Instagram Live.

     'They sayin' it's you...' His words chime above as I watch myself fold over to maintain composure in Fever's alleyway. Everyone can see Keon's figure talking me down from a red flame that would've ravaged them all. And then he comforts me with his lips, the dim light of the alley giving us cover all too late as my flame dies out.

     I find discomfort filing itself under tensing muscles as I playback the video. Each dirty comment that rolls up the screen is a careless assault on my pride. My invaded privacy is reduced to scandalous entertainment for what I thought were my friends and admirers. 

     'I can't believe Shi is gay!' MutedBlues cries followed up with broken heart emojis.

     'Dis nigga fruity af! Get the strap! LMAO!' Hittawitdastick chimes in with water gun emojis as if he isn't from this peaceful, rich suburb like the rest of us.

     'It's tryna burn down Fever for me. Can somebody explain that?' Cara_dawn points with a flame emoji that surely opens up another world of questions in people's mind.

     'Nigga a demon too!" Mr I wanna be from the streets so bad adds.

     I know some of these people well. We've all gone to Black Hills Academy since daycare days. We might as well be one big extended family. They'd never treat me like this in person. They wouldn't have nearly the same energy face to face. But still I get shaken up by their lies.

     'This why him and Celeste broke up?' MutedBlues chimes in again and I feel the guilt of her name welling in my chest.

     'The tea is he raped her cuz he dl. That's why they not together.' Another person named blueeyeddoll comments another inflammatory lie that's like the final nail in my reputations coffin.

    I check the top of the video to see who hosted the live. Their username is unfamiliar. _Lo_Lo. I search them on Instagram and see an empty account that follows a lot of BHA and BHU students. They don't even have a profile picture, but they have the power to ruin my life and hide behind anonymity.