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title : fallen angel's rage oc / pairing : sinatra stevens trigger warnings : transphobia, religious trauma, deadnaming, and purposeful misgendering
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YOU COULD HEAR HIS WORK SHOES SCRUBBING across the concrete. He's tired. Not only physically, but mentally. The diner that he usually loved working for had turned into a complete hellhole. And he absolutely knew why. But, he says nothing. He only keeps his chin up, wears his usual smile and goes about doing his job. He does this, even outside his job. Usually it's easy, but in the past couple of months? It seemed harder than it usually was.
Sinatra wasn't worried, though. He knew that he would get his smile back. His real smile back, as he was on his way to the Rossi household. It would be a breath of fresh air, more fresh than the crisp clean one that he currently felt outside.
But that air was soon taken away from him. Not the one from outside, but the one that gave him peace.
He froze, seeing the two unfortunate familiar figures that stood at the doorway, shouting for Sinatra.
No ... Sidney.
He didn't know what to do at first. Jason and Donnie are blatantly trying to get to him, not knowing that he wasn't even in the house in the first place. Sinatra started to shake, scared, anxious, and tired.
He began to back away. Sinatra tried to do this as quickly and quietly as possible. He almost gets away until his heel lands in a crack in the sidewalk. A squeak escaped from his lips, and he fell onto his back. He managed to save his head from hitting the concrete.
Sinatra hoped that they hadn't looked back. But they did. They saw him. He immediately stood back up, staring straight at Jason Carver, a well-known enemy of his since day one, and Donnie Parker, someone he used to love and have respect for.
"There she is ..."
Donnie. He had the accent, just like him. Sinatra didn't want to face him. He couldn't even believe that he trusted him with the secret in the first place.
"I'm only trying to go to my friend's house, what else do you want from me?" Sinatra told them.
"For everyone to know that you're a freak," Jason says, "That you're not who you say you are, Sidney."
"That's not my name ..."
"That's what's on your birth certificate, isn't it?"
Sinatra doesn't answer. He tried to push past the two other boys. It doesn't work. Donnie pushes him back.
"Oh, where ya goin', sweetheart?" Donnie asks. There is malice in his voice.
If Sinatra tried to push through them again, things were going to get worse. So he didn't. He didn't want it to get worse. By the time he could even speak, almost half the rainbow club had surrounded him. Fellow teenagers standing in front of him while the adults had practically cornered the two other boys.
