Start: May 2024
A texting/irl book about non famous Justin, and famous Zayn.
Justin is a 21 year old openly gay man man who lives in a small town working at a cafe. One day the love of his life, Zayn Malik, who doesn't until then know Justin exists...
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@justinbieber: God saved me I'm not gay anymore @miastarling _________________________________
@miastarling: love you babygirl
@gabriellamiller: that's been my biggest wish since I met you 😩
@maxlucas: Nah don't kill my dreams like that Jay I still have hope
@willnotsmith: don't make me jealous y'all too close are you gonna start posting your showering together videos
@miastarling: that's the only way you'll ever see a woman naked 😘 @willnotsmith
@justinbieber: I've asked you too shower with me plenty of times baby, you're so boring we've only done it like 5 times smh @willnotsmith
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I spend my days in a haze, drowning myself in work, hanging out with friends, and clinging to the simple comfort of Ingrid's company. Anything to keep my mind from wandering back to him. From wandering back to Zayn. I avoid social media like a disease, terrified of seeing his face plastered all over my feed, smiling in photos where he looks like he's moved on, while I'm stuck here, spiraling.
I've tried to understand him. Tried to reason with how he thinks. I know it's not easy for him to suddenly tell the world that he's dating guy. The scrutiny, the whispers, it's a lot, I get that. Coming out being not a public person is hard, coming out when you're Zayn Malik, is way harder. But I can't keep pretending I'm okay with being a second choice. The way he parades around with her, the way they go home together. It's killing me. The thought of them, together, doing things that should be ours, it's a wound that never closes. I try to push it from my mind, but it festers there, gnawing at me. It should be me he's with. I hate him for it. And yet, I love him so much it's a physical ache, like my chest is being crushed under the weight of it all.
Lately, I've been trying to open myself up, trying to flirt back when other guys show interest. It's been years of fending off their advances, but now, I think maybe it's time. Some of them are persistent, and part of me wonders if it would be easier just to let go. But when I try, my flirting comes out all wrong, babbling about whatever weird fact has caught my latest obsession, or it of course goes into something sexual that I don't even want. Mia says I should just get it over with, find someone to fuck, and then move on. But I don't think I can bear it. The idea of someone else touching me, makes me nauseous.
It's almost closing time at the café, just me and Mia left behind the counter. The last few customers, a couple of couples and two singles are scattered around, absorbed in their phones or whispering quietly to each other. The bell above the door jingles, and in walks Anthony, the guy who's been flirting with me for years. Mia catches my eye and nudges me toward the register before I can react.
