LOGINADRIAN'S POV The restaurant hums with the clatter of cutlery and the low murmur of lunchtime conversation, the air thick with the scent of frying grease and stale coffee. Adrian sits at a small, sticky table near the window, William already up and striding toward the counter to order. Adrian thumb flicking rapidly over his phone screen as he scrolls through Instagram account, It’s a memory from six years ago—a "On This Day" prompt featuring a photo of him in high school.He taps the image. It expands, filling the screen with the ghost of a boy who looks nothing like the man sitting here now. The sensory details of that time hit him like a physical blow. The metallic tang of blood in his mouth after a beating in the locker room. The rough scrape of concrete against his cheek as he curled into a ball. The sharp, cutting laughter of his school mate echoing off the tiled walls, slurs like "faggot" and "queer" hanging in the humid air. He remembers the teachers looking away, the isolation
RYDER'S POV Adrian stands at the front of the room, his usually composed posture rigid, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He doesn’t look at the class as he begins to collect the papers, moving down the rows with aggressive efficiency. The air around him practically vibrates with suppressed fury, a direct result of the filth Kai had spewed just while the test was going on. Ryder finishes his final sentence and stands up, approaching the desk. He watches Adrian closely, noting the tightness around the professor’s eyes, the way his fingers white-knuckle the stack of exam sheets. Ryder places his paper on top of the pile. Adrian doesn’t look up. He doesn’t offer a nod or a glance of acknowledgment. He simply scoops up the paper, turns on his heel, and marches out of the hall, the door clicking shut with a final, sharp snap. Ryder stands there for a moment, his hand hovering in the empty air. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. He wants to go after A
ADRIAN'S POV The air in the exam hall hangs heavy, stagnant with the scent of graphite dust and nervous sweat. It is a suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic, aggressive scratching of pens against paper and the occasional, shifting creak of a wooden chair. Professor Adrian paces the narrow aisles between the desks, the heels of his polished oxfords clicking sharply against the linoleum, a metronome for the students’ anxiety. He moves like a predator, his gaze sweeping over the bowed heads, looking for the slightest twitch of dishonesty. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a stark, clinical light over the room. Adrian stops near the back row. Something is off. Kai, usually a slouching mess of arrogance, is sitting rigid, his eyes darting not to his paper, but downward toward his lap. Adrian narrows his eyes, taking a silent step closer. The blue glow of a screen illuminates Kai’s thigh, reflecting sharply against the varnished wood of the desk. He is cheating,
RYDER'S POV Ryder sits on the edge of the beige velvet sofa, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the black charging cable snaking across the floor to the outlet. He told himself yesterday, and the day before that, that he would avoid Adrian. He promised to keep his distance, to stop showing up at the professor’s house like a lost dog looking for a handout. Yet here he is, sitting in the quiet living room, waiting for the red battery icon on his phone to turn green. The silence in the house is heavy, broken only by the low hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic ticking of a clock on the wall. A sharp, wet sound echoes from the hallway—achoo. Ryder’s head snaps up. He knows that sound. Moments later, Adrian shuffles into the living room, clutching a fistful of tissues. His nose is pink, rubbed raw at the tip, and his eyes are watery and glassy. He looks wrecked, smaller than usual in a loose sweater that hangs off one shoulder. He opens his mouth to speak, but another
ADRIAN'S POV The morning light filters through the blinds in sharp, slanted beams, cutting across the bedroom floor, but Adrian doesn’t feel the warmth. He is curled beneath a heavy duvet, shivering violently despite the sweat beading on his forehead. The cold he caught yesterday has settled deep in his chest, a heavy, rattling weight that makes every breath a chore. He sneezes, a harsh, wet sound that tears through the silence, followed immediately by a groan as his body aches in sympathy. William was here earlier to drop a bottle of drugs he got from a pharmacy drop it on the nightstand before heading out to work, a silent routine of care that Adrian usually appreciates but today barely registers through the fog of his fever. Adrian forces himself up, the room spinning slightly as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He grabs the pills, dry-swallowing two with a grimace, and chases them with the lukewarm juice. The taste is acidic and sharp on his tongue, shocking him
RYDER'S POV Ryder’s eyes snap open. The silence of the classroom presses against his eardrums, a heavy, suffocating blanket after the roar of the music. He rips the headphones off, the cord whipping against his chest, and spins in his chair. The plastic seat groans under the sudden movement, the sound sharp in the empty room. Adrian is standing there. He’s just inside the doorway, motionless. His eyes are locked directly onto Ryder, dark and unreadable, piercing through the dim light like he’s trying to carve the answer to a question he hasn’t asked out of Ryder’s skull. The intensity of it makes the hair on Ryder’s arms stand up. It’s a look that strips away the layers of noise and distraction, leaving him raw. Ryder groans, the sound dragging up from his chest. He rubbs a hand over his face, the stubble scratching his palm. His head is swimming, the lingering bass line from the music still thumping against his temples. He must be seeing things again. The lack of sleep, th
RYDER'S POV Professor Adrian stands behind his mahogany desk, the polished wood reflecting the harsh afternoon light. He lifts a hand, his fingers trembling slightly, and adjusts the wire-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. The lenses magnify his eyes, eyes that are currently wid
RYDER'S POV The corridor stretches out before Ryder, a long, polished expanse of linoleum reflecting the fluorescent buzz from overhead. He walks with a loose, rhythmic gait, the kind of stride that comes from years of dominating the ice, his hockey-honed thighs rubbing together against the roug
ADRIAN'S POV The heavy oak door clicks shut, sealing out the noise of the world and plunging the entryway into a heavy, suffocating silence. Adrian stands there for a moment, his back pressed against the cool wood, letting the stillness wash over him. The day has been a marathon of droning lec
RYDER'S POV The silence in the lecture hall is thick enough to choke on, heavy with the dust of chalk and the collective held breath of fifty students. The question—Are you gay?—hangs in the air like smoke, curling around the fluorescent lights. It isn't a whisper. Adrian grips the edges of







