antidote

1. Antidote

The sky has gone from black blue to ebony when Helios finishes his thesis. His body hurts from staying sat for so long. A sigh escapes his lips, relieved but still anxious. His head is buzzing, he gets up dizzily to slips himself into bed. The comforting city sounds soothing and drifting him to sleep.

'Helios,' He hears, still asleep. 'Wake up' His eyes open slowly, unaware of his surroundings he sits quickly and sees his roommate in front of him, a concerned look on his face. 'What?' he says, his voice deep and rasp. 'You're late, it's half past 9.' Jamie replies, an amused look on his face. 'You're kidding?' He is now awake and up, 'No man, I just came back from breakfast, thought you'd be awake by now. You really need to stop spending your nights studying.' Jamie leaves without another word. Helios groans and runs a hand through his messy black hair as he feels his breath quicken.

He hates being late, it makes him so anxious especially when he just finished his thesis and now has to wait for the analysis. If he fails he will not make it. After everything he has been through with his family, he just wants them to be proud of him. His transition did not go well, he started taking testosterone at sixteen. His father hurt him physically for months and his mother stopped talking to him. Everything he does is to make his parents forgive him for being trans. To prove them that he is still worth it. They used religion as an excuse, saying that God did not make him a girl for him to be changing his body. He didn't expect them to understand or support him but they put him through hell for two years after he came out. When he left home he never came back.

Helios still doesn't know if he believes in God. Why would he believe in something that was used against him, he has prayed so many times that he was just too young for wanting to be like a boy so, he forced himself into being feminine and then he would cry himself to sleep every night. It was a long process until he was satisfied with his appearance. His face had always been very masculine with a sharp jaw, long nose and thin lips with tired blue eyes. He has a mullet and fluffy jet black hair. Girls and gays love it. When he thought he was okay with his gender identity and his attraction towards girls he also realised he liked boys.

He studies history and philosophy at UCL. His biggest achievement was to get in with a scholarship. Even that wasn't enough for his parents, like come on Helios Cunningham got into the 8th best university in the whole world and it's not enough because he's trans? He will never be enough for them. So, leaving America was the best thing he ever did. It's weird that he has a British accent, it's not as noticeable as if he were British but it's still something he's quite proud of. People can't tell that he is American, they usually think he is from a European country, which he thanks God for. It's not that he is ashamed of being American, but he wishes he were British.

***

Standing in front of his closet, still sleepy he finally grabs clothes. He opts for a pair of brown corduroy pants and a beige cream button down with a black leather jacket. He isn't too much of an extravagant person, he likes simple clothes. It is now mid September and he feels autumn arrive slowly, the air is getting colder and the summer rain will soon be replaced by the autumn rainstorms. He grabs his bag and laptop then heads quickly downstairs, it's ten. Obviously the cafeteria is closed already, he rolls his eyes and goes outside of the campus and begins walking. He goes to his favourite café downtown where he knows no student go at. It's where the old people go, mostly because it's near a nursing home and the only stores there are a library and a record store. It's usually quiet and the ambiance is perfect. It feels like this street is stuck in time, like it stopped on the 3rd of December 1975.

He enters the small café as the smell of coffee with the familiar wood and leather undertone make a smile form on his lips. If he could describe it, he would say this feels like coming home but he has no idea what home feels like. He sits at the back, in the booth no one uses because it is faced to the window but there is only one seat. It was made for lonely people and his hearts breaks a little when he imagines an old lady sitting here alone after losing the love of her life. Old people hurting make him immensely sad, they are so sweet. Most of them. Some are real assholes but it's like everyone else in this world.