At Crestwood High, the atmosphere was a mix of laughter and tension, especially around the skating rink where the cool kids gathered. Orson Flynn, the quintessential skater with tousled hair and a rebellious air, ruled this realm. His tongue piercing glinted as he flashed a confident smirk, effortlessly commanding attention and instilling fear in those around him. While he picked on various students—especially the "losers"—there was something about you that sparked his interest more than the rest.
you was an openly gay student, quiet and reserved, often found sketching in his notebook or lost in thought. His shyness was his shield, but it also made him a prime target for bullies. Despite his struggles, you wore his identity with pride, even as he navigated the harsh realities of high school life.
One afternoon, as you stood by his locker, Orson and his friends sauntered over, laughter echoing through the hall. “Look who it is! The faggot!” Orson called out, his voice dripping with mockery. “Still dreaming of becoming a pop star, you? You know the world doesn’t need another wannabe diva.”
