My Heart Beats For You

Join On A Walk

"I'm shocked." Mr. Rayden's seeping anger resonates through the cold walls of the apartment.

Mother bites her lips, looking away from her pitiful son, who stopped chewing dinner long ago.

"So, your son is gay?" Mr. Rayden asks his wife with a mocking smile.

The wife looks down at the almost empty plate with shocked emotions. She still couldn't digest the food or the identity her son wished to hold.

Gay? Isn't that term associated with weirdos in the world? Why is her son a part of such a community? Dean is not like them. He isn't interested in sexual relationships with other men. He is just confused—yeah, just confused or primarily curious.

Mrs. Rayden's eyes lit up with confidence. "He is not. Rather, he is curious." Looking at Dean, "Right son?"

"I'm done with dinner." Mr. Rayden stood up from his chair.

Dean's teary eyes followed his father's. "Da—"

"Stop." Mr. Rayden warned, pointing his index finger with a firm gaze. "First, you were a terrible son. You managed to turn things around, but now this?!" He clenched his jaw and exclaimed, "Just leave!" He stormed away from the rest of the family in anger.

Ethan gulped down the rice with force and glanced to his left, where he observed Dean's shaky hands. This is a natural response when one is trying to hold back tears or emotions.

Ethan holds his hands. "Dean, maybe—"

"I'm fine, brother." Dean pulls his hand back. "Please excuse me."

Ethan considered trailing the man to his room, but instead, Dean headed toward the exit. Frantic with the thought of Dean abandoning them, Ethan took a step forward to intercept him.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air. Don't follow. Leave me alone for some time."

As Dean leisurely walked down the serene and quiet street, he couldn't help but experience a profound sense of wonder and confusion. Despite the tranquil surroundings, he felt reassured and content in his ability to navigate his way without any impediments or interruptions.

In a sudden outburst of distress, a youth, seemingly on the brink of adulthood, implored for help and embraced Dean with fervor, causing the gentleman to momentarily lose his footing in astonishment.

"What happened?" Dean asked while looking around hastily.

"Help," The boy's voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes. Then his eyes locked with two men who looked to be in their 30s. The grip tightens around Dean's waist.

"Those people!" The boy yells, pointing at them. Dean turns around and looks in that direction.

The boy holds his head and shouts, "They touched me wrongly!" Stepping back, he ducks down with a red, teary face. Looks back at Dean and says, "Please trust me."

Those men took the chance to flee there.

Dean wished to follow them. But he stopped himself when he turned his gaze back to the crying boy. Here, choosing a priority is a must.

With a deep sigh, he kneels in front of the boy. "Did you learn self-defense or any martial arts?"

The boy shook his head, curling himself smaller. "They pulled my pants. He pushed me inside. The other one was holding me."

Dean bites his lips. "You are a brave boy." Patting the boy's head and embracing the shivering boy, his eyes looking at the route taken by those men. Jaws clenched together.

"Let's file a complaint," Dean said, looking at the boy.

The boy stops breathing for a second. With a slight thought, the boy shook his head.