Beating Hearts (A Story Of Transitions)

Jaden pulled his hair back up into a ponytail, yanked on a shirt, and put on his boxers. He sauntered up to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag. The cold autumn air pricked at his ears and fingers. Nothing felt... right. His hands didn't look like his own, and the sounds of the girl sleeping in the next room sounded distant. He took another drag and walked towards the liquor cabinet. He was going to need something stronger to think about this properly.

Jude pried off his binder, the purple and green bruises dotting his ribcage throbbing painfully. His fingers skimmed over each mark, left there from wearing the binder for too long. He stared at his chest, at the red marks and stark lines where seams and elastic had been just seconds before. The pain in his ribs and chest, the constricted feeling in his lungs, and the shape of his body became too much. He placed his face in his hands, each ragged breath laced with a sob.

Tears leaking from his eyes and ragged sobs emitting from his chest, Maxwell William Davis did all his mind could process at the time.
He ran.

A narrative of the lives of several friend groups, how they mixed, and how they found happiness.