Hidden Play: The Return 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Have you ever lit a sparkler? There's just the smallest rush you get as you flick your thumb over the lighter and hold it to the end of the sparkler. Your pulse gains speed as you wait for the heat to take hold, and once it does, the sparkler comes alive with a fury that can't be stopped.

That's the best way I can describe it, this feeling inside me. It's been weeks since I stood tall, speaking my piece, my full piece, for the first time since moving to this town. Anxiety gnawed at my insides as I played through the what-if game, wondering how long it would be before I caved or broke down after leaving the ski lodge (yes, let's all give a round of applause to Gigi for yet again for bailing me out of a sticky situation and driving hours to bring me home).

The more time that passes, the more confident I feel. Do I still miss Zion? Every second of every, single day. Don't get me wrong; it hurts, too. I dream about him almost every night, the ghost of his touch playing across my skin like a bittersweet symphony of memories. I opened my heart and left myself vulnerable to love. I fell, and I fell hard, but I don't regret it. Now, though, it's time to pick up the pieces. For me.

Gigi pops her head into my room and arches a brow. "Hey, little bro. Five-minute warning before we leave for school. Or, am I even allowed to call you that still – little bro? Or is that too informal for your status now? I tell you what, there's no way I'll start calling you one of these ridiculous names they're coming up with...."

She pulls up her phone, reading aloud some of the more...colorful pet names given to me by my subscribers. She laughs at 'smexy LGBT jock,' cringes at 'sir,' and nearly loses it at 'Daddy.'

"Yea, eff that," she mutters. "I'm sticking with little bro, because that's just...." She shudders, her physical reaction finishing her thought for her.

Before you freak out, let me explain. When I got home from the ski trip, what I anticipated would be a miserable winter break turned out to be the best mental reprieve I could have asked for. Bobby and Momma T proved to be good distractions, and before Bobby left, he got me started on – what he calls – therapeutic therapy writing. Aka blogging.

At first, I only did it as a means to pass the time (well, and to appease the worry of my ex-boyfriend now pseudo-buddy), writing and posting the trials and tribulations of being a gay man in a town bursting with old money, small-minds, and unwavering (highly conservative) beliefs. I got a few views, a handful of hilarious comments, one or two stories from other subscribers sharing their experiences, and a hater or two thrown in as well.

Deplorable shout-out to the trolls who need a virtual, cyber timeout.

Honestly, the haters don't bother me too much. Maybe a month ago, they would have. I'm in a better place now, though, so I let their comments roll off my shoulders. I refuse to let them be overshadowed by all the positive support from my subscribers.... which are growing tenfold by the day.

"Anyway, I'm proud of you," she says. "You've come a long way these past few weeks, and even if it's not the ending you were hoping for, you're making the most of it and coming out stronger. When we were in LA, you had Bobby by your side, holding your hand through the entire process. This time, you're doing it on your own – and kicking ass, I might add."

"Thanks, Gigi. But I can't take all the credit. I honestly couldn't have done it without you."

She squints, trying to detect if there's any sarcasm in my voice, before sighing that infamous sigh of hers that is used specifically to fight off tears.

"I'd do anything for you, Aiden," she says. "I love you, and I never want to see you hurting."

I nod. "I know you would, Gig. And I would do anything for you."