Under the Same Sky

Dancing On My Own

Song- Dancing on my Own (Scott Callum)

Accepting the fact that you like guys is tough. Working and studying everyday while being bullied, just to make something of yourself...to be more than a nobody...is tougher. But having the person you did it all for leave you for a girl? That's the toughest.

Somebody said you got a new friend.

We met when I was six and he was eight. I was the little dork with glasses that were too large for my face, the height of a toddler and the build of a matchstick. Xavier was the opposite of what I was. He was tall for his age with floppy, dark hair that contrasted my blonde locks, strikingly blue eyes that were polar opposites to my brown ones, and olive toned skin that was in no way like my own, pale skin.

He saved me once, when the bullies decided that they had nothing better to do than to beat the crap out of my six year old self. He was a whirlwind of fury, punching and kicking with no other thought than to teach the five bullies who were ten years old a lesson. He was God in the eyes of my six year old self.

We became friends after that, even though we didn't go to the same school. His father was a big-shot CEO and I was a nobody orphan who was living in the local orphanage. I attended the public school where I got my ass handed to me on a daily basis and he attended a rich people's school where he was a King among them. But every afternoon we would meet and he would clean up my wounds, help me with my homework and God help any of the bullies who picked on me at school if Xavier got his hands on them.

But does she love you better than I can?

I was fifteen when he kissed me. We were in his room. I was sitting on his desk and he was standing in front of me, between my legs as he disinfected a cut on the side of my head. He had changed since we first met. At eighteen years old, he had changed but still managed to remain the same. He was taller, much taller at six feet. He wasn't slim, but he was toned with lean muscles.

I was still a walking matchstick with barely any muscle on my body and definitely not a six pack like he had. I still got picked on, but he was teaching me to fight back. He never wanted to, claiming that he'd always be around to beat the shit out of whoever was harassing me. Recently, he had to take up a position in his father's company and that drastically reduced our time together. I came home with a black eye and a busted lip recently and as pissed as he was, he cleaned it up and agreed to teach me to fight. My short stature and lack of build was making it difficult, but the orphanage didn't have enough money to feed me as much as he wanted.

"I don't like when those punks think it's okay to hit you." He growled out under his breath, his words laced with anger, but his touch was still gentle as he cleaned my head.

I looked away from his blue eyes that seemed to see through my mental walls and get into my thoughts.

The fight today wasn't because I was a random victim they were after. It was because of Xavier.

"It's fine. They got the wrong idea about us and beat me because of it." I murmured, staring at the large oak tree outside his window.

"Evan, look at me." He spoke in a gruff but gentle voice that I knew was reserved for me, but I kept my gaze locked on that tree, feeling my eyes water. "Ev,"

I felt his finger under my chin and he turned my head so I was staring directly into those eyes that unnerved and unraveled me.

"What happened?" he asked and I sighed, choosing to stare at his hands instead of his face.