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winnie was gay.

very gay, actually.

and it was odd that when he told people this, they asked him, 'so you're a lesbian?'

maybe it was because winnie seemed like such a feminine name. but actually, the small boy liked it very much. winnie the pooh happened to be one of his favorite cartoons, and he thought the name itself was cute.

he was one of the few people who actually liked to hear his name being called. he appreciated his parents for this.

and that was it.

his parents had left winnie at a very, very young age. he couldn't remember a blink of them. he couldn't even remember what age he was when they left.

he was born, and they left directly after. for all he knows.

and the cruel thing was, that while winnie grew up, he realized he had no where to live.

as a baby, people cooed and pitied over him. he was fed and taken into homes to rest and eat and clean up, he accumulated spare clothing and shoes, and carried them everywhere with him.

but winnie never had anywhere permanent to stay. the longest he stayed in someone's home was a week. the couple then had to leave for vacation, and the boy had never seen then again. his hope for loving parents had flattened.

and it was crazy, really. winnie was an exceptionally cute boy. his messy tan locks were growing down to his shoulders, as he hadn't had money to get a haircut, or even a comb for that matter. he had a small, petite figure, though he was well curved. his eyes glowed with a puppy brown mixed with a touch of gold, narrowing as he smiled. a big, toothy grin, with slightly yellow teeth. his button nose was scattered with light freckles, and his voice was a small, shy tinkle. his laugh warmed your insides, as if you just gulped down a cup of hot chocolate. when he was sad, you were sad.

everybody loved him. everybody loved seeing him, hearing him laugh, watching the red spread across his cheeks occasionally.

but no one seemed to love him enough to take him in.

everyone knew that winnie slept against a certain tree in the town park, so often to where it was nicknamed the honey tree.

because of winnie the pooh, get it?

the boy was alone.

except for one, small light.

winnie was in school.

this was really how winnie was remaining alive. the school lunch was small, but as the boy's stomach was shrinking every day, about the size of a walnut, it was more than enough for him.

the boy was in school by some miracle, and he never missed a single day. he payed attention, got outstanding grades, used school to the best of his ability.

you see, the boy wanted to be a singer.

winnie deeply wanted to go to college. every fiber in his body ached for the stabilization and support of a full, maybe even with a bit extra, scholarship. so he could pay for all his expenses, have money for food, clothes, extra, maybe even get a job and buy a car..

he'd have to take driver's ED first, though.

winnie attended all talent shows and musical gatherings that he could. everyone expected to see him, and adored his angelic vocal chords, his occasional raspy rock yells.

all more of a reason to take him in, to be caring for the boy who was most likely going to become a huge celebrity in the future. but oh well.

at school, winnie was applying for as many colleges as he could. even if the weren't performing arts related. hopefully his straight As would persuade the others to consider him.

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