Relentless (phan)

Meeting

   Pockets of sunlight erupt through the holes in my curtains. I've watched it gradually get brighter, dancing shadows fading to nothing. I decide now would be a good time to start getting ready for college. Today is the first day there's one of those induction weeks for Year 11s hoping to get into college.
   Lucky Phil got stuck teaching the fifteen year olds computer editing. There was never anyone interesting when I attended, so I plan to act a bit more excited when I get there, hopefully entertaining  to them. When I was fifteen, everything bored me. I hated everything.
   My wardrobe is almost empty, so I take out the black Muse shirt that I hadn't worn for months. Slipping on the skinnies I wore yesterday, I check the pockets for money that I can give to my mother or father. This is a daily procedure, even though I had no money given to me yesterday.
   I tackle my hair, straightening it quickly and checking for my mousy roots. I decide to buy a new packet of dye on the way home. Usually, with these college introduction things, I stay in the back of my class with my head down so I don't get picked to do something, but this time Mr. Valdez chose me.
   My mother calls me down for breakfast. I rush down the stairs in my Vans and grab a slice of toast, kissing my mum on the forehead. Martyn, my older brother, is sat at the table with his laptop, designing some website for a client.
   He's been working on web-design for four years, since he left college and took it up in university. He left uni last year, and sits in his room on the phone and computer, making websites for organisations and companies.
   When I pass the table, he grins over his coffee mug and waves with his free hand. I flash a smile back, mumbling 'bye' as I shut the door behind me. The ten minute walk to college is the only time I get to myself. I plug in my earphones and delve into my ocean of thoughts.
   The only reason I told only Piper about my sexuality is because she would never tell anyone. I would most definitely be killed if I told my father, or PJ for that matter. He hates any form of crime, and has to own up, even if he accidentally takes one of my pencils. Telling PJ would be certain death.
   It wasn't the thought of dying that scared me. It was that I could never show people my full potential, never get an interesting job, never having stories to tell to my nieces and nephews. I could never do that, not to my brother or parents.
   You probably think, well, why don't you just move to another country? There are enough answers to that. I don't want to leave my family. They'd find me and send me back to England. I have no money to move away. I have no one to go with, nowhere to go.
   I walk through the college gates to the reception, hand in my free day card (a/n: idk haven't been to college) then head to fifteen year olds clumped together a few feet away. I scour the crowd for someone interesting looking, but all of them look like they stepped off a Vogue cover shooting. I stand at the front, facing them.
   "Um, hello?" I say, only audible for the people at the front of me. "Hello?!" the whispers die down, but I can hear things like, 'who still listens to Muse?' and 'what is he wearing?' The kids turn to face me, and I get a death stare from one of the girls wearing a belly top and shorts, like I was interrupting her conversation.
   "Excuse me, sister, but I'd appreciate if you actually listened to me." I make my way through the kids, stopping in front of her. Most of them were shoulder height, widening their eyes. A few whispers burst out across the group. 'no one talks to Eva like that,' and 'that's so rude.' I look down at her, and she shuts up. The perks of being tall, I guess.
   "Did you dye your hair?" A boy in the back says, and I nod. "Isn't that a bit... gay?" I try my best not to look wounded. In the worst of times I look like Bambi when his mum got killed. Not a good look when you're being called out by fifteen year olds.
   "Well, would you rather see a decent looking guy with blue hair, or with boring mousy hair? Blue's so much more interesting." I notice a boy, right at the back of the group, wearing a black eclipse t-shirt.
"Just saying."
   "No one asked for your opinion, faggot," the person I assume is Eva sneers.
   "No one asked for you to exist," he shoots back, eyes boring into her forehead.
   "Faggot."
   "Vain."
   "Really? That all you gotta say? I can think of so much more. Hm, pretty, funny, straight."
   "Shut the fuck up!" he lunges forward, grabbing her by the hair. "I'm not gay!"
   "You might as well as kill yourself now, before the police do it for you," Eva says, struggling to stand up straight. I do nothing but stand there. No physical contact with the children.
   " Okay, lets stop this. I'm not allowed to touch any of you, so end this." I say, placing myself between them. "Eva, go to the nurse. You guys come with me."
   I direct Eva to the nurse we have during this week, then take the group to the library. It's rented out for this week, meaning no one else can use it. "Take a seat at a computer, choose someone to work with. This week, you chose computer editing."
   "No shit," someone mumbles.
   "Yeah, so I can edit my selfies!" Someone shouts from the back of the room. The entirety of the group chuckles. Only the boy with the eclipse shirt keeps a straight face. It's then I notice he's sat by himself, one group deliberately in a three. I smile at him and he manages to lift one side of his mouth.
   "So in your pairs, I want you to work out how to make this person," I hold up a picture of Sarah Michelle Gellar, and another of a park, "look like she's here. Off you go."
    I hover over the boy's seat and watch intently as he expertly cuts out Sarah and blends her into the background. He looks up at me, blinking his brown eyes as he draws a deep breath.
    "Is that okay sorry if it's not I'm really bad at this I have to go sorry," he says, running for the door. No one looks up from their screens, until someone points out that he's not there.
   "Hey, has the faggot gone?"
   "Ding dong, the faggot's dead!"
   "Damn, I hate him. Why doesn't he just kill himself?"
    "Yeah," the group choruses, and I try to manage to keep a stern face.
    "Okay, I'm going to go find him, you guys carry on working." I say, pulling the door open. I recall that they were each given a 'map' of the college, so they know where everything is. The first place I suspect is the bathroom.
   I push on the door and fall through. Only one cubicle is locked. I knock on the door of it, knuckles rapping on the hard plastic. "Who's in there?" I demand, stopping knocking for a minute. I hear a grunt, followed by speech barely audible.
   "Leave me alone," I hear his voice from in the cubicle, and scraping across the floor.
   "Let me talk to you. Open the door."
   "No."
   "Open the door," I press myself against the door, pushing it with every muscle I have. "Just unlock it and talk to me."
   I hear rustling and the lock being moved. Before I can get out of the way, he opens the door. I fall backwards, landing on top of him and his bag. "I'm going to get my friend to watch over the rest of the group. You come with me."
   Whipping out my phone, I send a text to PJ, telling him to watch the kids in the library. He sends a thumbs up emoji back, and I take the boy to the empty conference room. He sits down in a seat, and I sit next to him.
   "Are you okay? What's your name?" I ask, leaning my chin in my hand.
   "Dan," he mumbles, "Do I look okay? You don't even know me, you know nothing about me."
   "Well, all the better. You know I could tell no one about this, then. Do you want to know a secret of mine, so you can trust me?"
   He nods, "I won't tell a soul."
   "I'm gay." I whisper. Even though I barely know this boy, I feel completely comfortable telling him my biggest secret. His eyes widen in horror.
   "But... Can't you get killed?" He hisses back, shifting in his seat. "That's the only reason I told no one- oops."
   "Are you?"
   "No. Yes. I don't know. Yes." He finalises his answer. "I'm gay. But I don't want to be killed. I want to run away, somewhere I can be safe, able to kiss any boy or man I want to. Why is England so unaccepting of sexuality?"
   I shrug. "Dan, why do people bully you if they 'know' you're not gay?"
   "I don't know. I'm different; I like Muse, I actually read stuff. Like, with pages. People don't like me. I just think I'm one of the inevitable anomalies everyone hates." he says, pulling on his jumper sleeves. I don't even attempt to think what's on his wrists, under the sleeves and wristbands.
   "Hey, if you want to talk to me, I'm happy to give you my phone number, or Twitter account." I say, scratching a few loops on a piece of paper with the pen. I reach out for his wrist. "I know what it feels like. I've been through it." He takes the paper from my grip, stuffing it in his pocket.
   "Thanks."
•
Extra long chapter for you guys! *long chapter dance*

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