Chapter 16

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5' 8"-5' 9"

Even while drunk, Noah felt awkward telling that story. Awkward and uncomfortable. However, Ethan shared his problems, so it seemed unfair not to share back. Noah took a deep breath, sighed, and started telling the story in a quiet voice.

"I wasn't popular back in school," he mumbled in a constrained manner, trying to guess at the same time whether he should've just told Ethan the facts and shut his mouth instead of telling the whole story and its background. "Puberty hit me hard," it was still possible to see some of it left, "I knew I wasn't super handsome, but my grandmother used to tell me that beauty is like a nice sign: it can attract a person to come inside and take a look, but it would never make the person stay if there was nothing interesting inside," Morgan never doubted her opinion until recently, "And... I did believe that beauty wasn't the most important thing and that I could always impress a person with my personal traits, not my face or figure," Noah said, feeling embarrassed with his own naivety. "This stupid faith led to..."

"It's not stupid at all," Ethan interrupted Noah rudely, "Beauty is subjective, short-lived, and can be taken away easily," he knapped, "Why would you need a partner who could leave you if you got old, gained some weight, or got an injury of some sort? Can love really be so shallow? It's such an embracive feeling; it can push people to do different, sometimes reckless things. It can make people forget their egoism. It can even make people sacrifice themselves. Such a strong feeling just can't work on a beauty concept. Respect, however, plays a far more important role, which then leads to an appreciation of a person's advantages and character traits. I mean those you've mentioned. Nobody will respect you for your eyes, lean stomach, and snatched butt. Would they want to fuck you for that? Of course. But will they love you? Doubtful."

Ethan turned out to be an idealistic person.

"Back when I was in school, a guy told me that only fourteen-year-old girls and ugly people believe that," Noah said and laughed.

"So who do you think I can be then? A fourteen-year-old girl? Or an ugly guy?" Ethan asked curiously.

"Ah...Um..." Noah was confused, "No, that's not what I meant," he said, shaking his head, "You're clearly not fourteen. And you're definitely not ugly!"

"But I look like a girl, right?" you could tell Ethan was smiling from his eyes.

"Oh! Not, you don't... I mean... You're a guy. But... Well, I mean... Ugh! If you identify yourself as a girl, then... I'll respect that! And... Um..."

'What the hell am I saying!'

"I identify as a male," Ethan said and sighed. He was clearly laughing at Noah's attempt to clarify himself.

"Oh, okay, good," Morgan felt so awkward he was about to cry. When did he forget how to communicate?

"Do you think it's good?" Ethan was definitely mocking him now.

"Y-yes... I mean, since I'm into guys..." Noah choked on his words when he understood he was saying too much. Damn wine!

What if Ethan was actually a girl? And what if he was thinking about transitioning? What would happen to Noah's feelings then?

Morgan froze for a second.

'Maybe I'm not so gay after all?'

Noah's alcohol-addled brain was finally so confused that the guy grunted in pain.

"Okay... I mean... It's... It's not that simple!"

"Oh, yes, definitely," Ethan smirked, taking the phone to his ear, "Ethan Thomson's listening. Sorry, but he's busy. Right now and in general. No, he's not going to step on you. I can, though. Text me your address so I can come, and I'll be stepping on you till you slip into a coma. Haha!... He hung up," Ethan hissed and put the phone on the table, its screen facing down. It seemed that this chit-chatting with Morgan's admirers didn't amuse him anymore. "So, we lost the original topic of our conversation. You were saying about your beliefs that beauty wasn't the most important thing in the world," he reminded Noah.

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