He hated stepping outside of his apartment. He hated being out in the open. He hated having to get dressed. He just hated being seen.
"You aren't eating enough."
"You look like a ghost. Why don't you go get a tan?"
"How can you still be wearing skinny jeans?"
"Baby, get that gloss off your lips."
His mother took a nearby napkin and wiped away his favorite lipgloss. It was one of the few things he allowed himself to indulge in. She seemed to look at the now dirty napkin in disgust before throwing it away.
YOU ARE READING
Projection
General FictionIt's not so bad when you have someone there for you. Kinda.
