below the surface

closet for one

cyrus goodman, where would one begin on cyrus goodman. he was a studious, reserved, happy kid. not to mention, openly gay.

all the girls at school had an assumption, they didn't mind it. no one really looked at him any differently in school. they asked for help with homework, favors, and conversations just as they always had. he was picked on at first, because he had been the only one. now, many people liked cyrus. he had so many likeable qualities they radiated off of him, warming the hearts of those who got the privelege of knowing him.

this wasn't the case at home, though.

truth is, cyrus' dad hated him. he had a mountain of former stepmoms, and even more of his dads former girlfriends who had all left. cyrus telling the school lead to his dad knowing. cyrus had always known what his dad would say, the obscene jokes, the harassment; but he stopped caring. he wanted to make his dad proud, but he refused to shove himself into a 4x4 closet to appease to his father's homophobic, disgusting expectations.

it started as small, unintelligeble remarks at the dinner table, to the occasional verbal abuse for about an hour. still, none of this had made cyrus regret the choice he had made, because he liked who he was. that was enough for him.

today had gotten heated. his dad had had it up to here with cyrus, though cyrus did nothing but be gay. the tension still lingered in the air even after dinner. cyrus was about to make a bold move and go to the kitchen.

he opened his door and peeked out, stepping out quietly. his dad looking at him, infuriated as he shot cyrus a hateful look.

"what do you want?", his dad asked in a rough, ruthless voice.

"i just came to get water.", cyrus uttered under his breath, avoiding any and all eye contact. he had grabbed a cup from the shelf and held it beneath the water dispenser in the fridge.

he heard footsteps behind him, and coarse breathing. his heart had stopped, he lost all sense of what he had been doing. cyrus retracted the glass, setting it on the counter beside the fridge without turning around. standing still, hoping he would hear the footsteps fade into a puddle of nothingness behind him.

"look at me.", his father said lowly, in an assertive tone.

cyrus had still been in his own world, petrified of the man standing behind him. his dad had every possible advantage. he was older, taller, heavier; if anything happened in that kitchen, cyrus was screwed.

"i said, look at me.", his dad reiterated, this time in a harsher, more agressive tone.

cyrus' breaths became shallow and rapid. his dad grabbed his shoulder and turned cyrus to face him.

"you won't talk to me like that EVER again in my fucking house do you hear me?!", he screamed, mere inches away from cyrus' face. normally, cyrus would nod, and retreat back into his room, but something in him made him push back. he didn't know if it was the volume, the fear, or the adrenaline, maybe even a cocktail of all three. he used every bit of strength he could muster up, shoving his dad back towards the kitchen table. his father's face filled with rage. it was red, tense, and had tension written all over it.

"you son of a bitch!", his father yelled before swinging at his son. cyrus recoiled in pain, not letting out a noise. it didn't matter how mad he was at his dad, or vice versa. he never thought his dad would hit him. instead of fighting back, he saw his dad, breathing heavily, not making another move or swinging again. cyrus had grabbed the water behind him, ice from the ice maker now sat patially melted.

"i-i'm just going to go in my room.", he spoke softly, directing his gaze, again, away from his father. he began walking to his room. he knew he was going to break down. cyrus goodman was strong enough for a lot of things, but this...this was not one of those things. his own dad hit him.

he placed the glass of water on this bedside table, then curling up in his blanket. his lip quivered, and his eyes were begging for cyrus to let the water flow. he had grabbed his phone, headphones already connected, and turned on his music. he wanted to answer and texts, or whatever, before he cried himself to sleep. he knew he wouldn't be in the mood for it tomorrow.

[instagram: tj kippen (@34tjk34) has requested to follow you.]

cyrus tapped the notification, not sure of who tj kippen even was. as soon as he saw who, he shuddered. why did the most popular, hottest guy in the school just ask to follow him? they'd never even talked before.

cyrus let out quiet whimpers, and allowed the tears to flow freely. now he knew what it meant to want to be straight.

all he hoped for was for it to just be a phase.