Charlie

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Walking down the hallways of Xavier School for boys, I wasn't only filled with the cold, dread feeling but also with the horrible, primal sounds of Homophobia. Those horrendous noises are one of the many reason that teens like me are still way inside the closet.

I don't know if I should be glad or horrified that I wasn't the one who's being tormented by them homophobes, but I knew one thing: I pity that poor, little boy who's being bullied by them.

Charlie Evans, the resident-and the only 'out'-queer was currently getting his daily dose of bullying-across my locker no less. What a way to start my day.

His chestnut hair was messy and his uniform's an OCD's nightmare. His lips were busted and his eyes bruised. He was awfully quiet as he was being bullied by the typical homophobic jock clique.

Me, being the pacifistic golden boy I am, finally intervened as I had enough of their bullshit.

"I think that's enough," I boomed as I closed my locker door shut. The jocks turned my way with threatening looks. I quirked an eyebrow and they, albeit grudgingly, left Charlie alone. I ain't that popular here, but I am a prefect so they have to suck it up.

I approached Charlie, who was cowering as silent tears stained his face. "Are you okay?"

To my surprise, his head snapped up to me with angry helplessness. "I don't like to be tricked. I may come across as the puny fag, but I also have feelings. So just leave me alone!"

With that said, he dashed away towards the music hall, which is his solace in this hell hole. I didn't blame him for his reaction. He's been through many hardships to the point that even the most genuine act of kindness seemed suspicious to him.

I sighed as the bell shrilled. I guess I'll just have to deal with him after I deal with trigonometric functions.

...

The music hall was awfully eerie-except for the haunting bittersweet melody of a cello playing. I followed the notes, and it led me to the farthest music studio in the hall. The door was slightly ajar, so I sneaked a peek inside through the small gap.

Charlie was there, sitting on a stool with a cello in between his legs. He was facing to me, eyes closed, as he played a sad, melodious piece. He played magnificently, as if the strings and the bow were extensions of his arms. He looked serene, angelic even.

When the last note was played, I slipped inside and applauded him. He jumped in surprise and looked at me in panic.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" I shot back.

The anger from earlier flashed back in his eyes again. "Because you wouldn't want to be caught befriending the queer fag."

I flinched when he said that. It had hit me where I live. I was still inside the closet because of what he had said. I have a proverbial fear of being shut out and left alone. I guess being closeted is better than being a loner.

I'm such a disgusting piece of shit.

I pushed back my glasses and shrugged my lean shoulders. "You know? Me saving you earlier should tell you something."

He glared at me. "All it tells me is that you have something hidden under your sleeves, Prefect Anthony Cole."

I opened my mouth to answer him, but he cut me off with a flick of his bow. "I get it. You're doing this out of pity, right?" he asked irately. "I want none of it. I may be smaller than the rest of you, but I am way dauntless than all of you. I did a brave thing of coming out and endured all the humiliation, but I still trod on and lived my life."

He let out a bitter chuckle. "I guess I am more dignified than all of you. At least I did something that I could be proud of all my life. What about you? You're just standing there, playing some stupid pass-the-fucking-ball game and act as the uncivilised Neanderthals you are."

I strode forward and sat on the piano bench beside him. I ran a hand through my blonde hair and leaned in closer to him. "I'm not here to-"

He cut me off again. I noticed that he was silently crying. "Why do you always do this? Just because you're what the society deemed as 'normal', doesn't give you the right to bully people like me. All the gay community ever did was being ourselves, and what did you all do? You all called us abominations! Have you ever stop and think that we also have feelings? That we are humans too?"

He was bawling and I immediately wrapped him in my arms. He was bawling and I was suddenly overwhelmed with self-shame. This boy, who's much frailer looking than me, faced the horrible, homophobic wrath of the school every day, but still lived on. And then here I am, everyone's golden boy, afraid of taking risks to be myself.

I have never felt so ashamed of myself.

I put my fingers on his chin and forced him to look at me. His brown orbs were filled with tears. He looked angelic in my eyes then. A sad angel.

"I'm going to do something, so don't freak out, yeah?" Without waiting for his response, I leaned in and put my lips over his. It was only a soft kiss, but it felt oh so right.

When I pulled away, Charlie was looking at me in confusion.

"Wh-why did you do that, Anthony?"

I grinned softly at him. "To let you know that Narnia just lost a resident."

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