Aiden [Book Two]

5

When the Lewis family moved into their new house, the adults allowed their son to pick his bedroom.

They hoped allowing him to choose between the double rooms, one with an ensuite, and one without, would help his recovery.

On moving day, the boy naturally drifted to the sky-blue bathroom attached to his room. The painted walls and white decor soothed his racing mind, and despite the large mirror, he felt more comfortable than living in Croydon.

As the tiny broken boy slept, his parents painted the bedroom walls in a pacifying forest green. Aiden half-heartedly picked the colour from a magazine as they drove in the car.

At the time, he didn't have the strength to care; but the choice proved reassuring. It helped a fragile teenager rebuild his life.

The posters on the walls, piles of comic books, and art supplies provided comfort. But not today.

From the moment he woke, Aiden was agitated and stressed.

He woke long before Nathan and paced the bedroom floor, unable to lie still, and afraid to wake the elder. The boy felt drained by his sleepless night, wanting only to melt into the brunette's arms, but it was impossible.

He couldn't keep the endless thoughts from suffocating and overwhelming him.

When he glanced at his phone early that morning, his heart plummeted and anxiety skyrocketed. That message wasn't the only one.

The calls that both boys brushed off weren't just accidental calls, cold callers, or pranks. They were more sinister and menacing than that. Silencing the phone was a huge mistake.

For hours, it rang repeatedly without a sound. Tonnes of messages piled up, waiting for their unsuspecting victim. Suddenly, Aiden found himself back in Croydon, surrounded by vile voices spewing hatred.

Who was calling him? How and where did they get his number? Why?

The orange-haired boy hurt no one. Despite everything he'd seen and been through, the pain he suffered, there was still only kindness in his heart. So why did they hate him?

Nathan woke, ready for his first school day in over two weeks, expecting his boyfriend to be happy and playful. Instead, there was a nervous wreck in his place.

At no point did Aiden disclose the text messages or countless phone calls that built up overnight. Keeping them a secret from his boyfriend and parents, he deleted all traces of the homophobia, and hoped it was a one-off thing.

His promise to his parents rang through his mind, but the boy pushed it away. Aiden couldn't show the messages and disappoint them again. He couldn't let Nathan see what a spineless loser he was, because then Nathan would leave.

No. The orange-haired boy kept everything quiet, simply nodding when asked if he was okay.

With quiet concern, the older boy observed the other entering the bathroom for the third time to check his face.

Almost like a compulsive obsession, Aiden needed to look in the mirror, ensuring every inch of his lifelong scar was hidden. He turned his head constantly, poking and prodding at his cheek, making sure the makeup stood strong, and nothing became obviously exposed.

It wasn't unnatural for the smaller boy to go through phases of intense concern about his looks. Nathan had seen countless moments, but none as significant as this in weeks. Probably not since showing the scar to his friends.

Seeing Aiden so unsettled after weeks of peace was difficult. He could hardly stand still, constantly wringing his fingers together as he wandered around.