Ultimatum

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5:45.

The numbers glared at Haylen from their spot on his nightstand. Neon green, ugly, too-bright numbers. He hated them. He really did.

But what he hated more were the thoughts running through his train-wreck of a brain. All he could think about was what Simon had said to him earlier, just before those two words - good night - that had actually sounded more like a 'get out of my life' or maybe a 'stop associating yourself with me'. Either way, it was not a pleasant exchange.

Those words - he couldn't stop thinking about them.

"I'm sorry Haylen. I can't. I ..I just can't. I'm not like you. I get really attached and I guess I didn't listen to you. I should have. I'm not angry at you but I can't play this game anymore, I just, I can't do it. Look, please don't lie and say that it's special just to be forgiven. I'm not mad. I just, I need to go to sleep. Now."

"Hah," he scoffed, talking to the shadows. "Not like me. Of course he's not like me, that little prick. He's perfect. He never messes up. I'm friggin' tired of you, Sy, you hear me?"

Haylen turned on his mattress, squinting in the dark over at Simon's bed. Much to his surprise, the boy wasn't there, instead replaced by rumpled sheets and an empty bed.

"Oh. I guess you don't," he sighed. "You're not even here."

For a moment Haylen wondered where the kid could've possibly gone. Probably to class, that little perfectionist. Maybe he'd taken up some crack-of-dawn classes to keep his straight A's.

...God, I'm feeling bitter.

"Siiiiimon!" Haylen yelled, his voice groggy with sleep. "I miss you! Come back to meeee! Get back into our dorm! Let's snuggleeee!" He laughed at himself for a moment, realizing how ridiculous he probably sounded.

I don't miss him, anyway. What am I talking about.

Shutting his mouth, Haylen rolled over, peering quietly at the mall. He attempted to hush his reckless mind, but nothing could override the replaying of Simon's tired-out voice.

"I'm not like you. I get really attached and I guess I didn't listen to you. I should have. I'm not angry at you but I can't play this game anymore, I just, I can't do it."

"Not like me. Doesn't like games. Here, let me plant that in my brain. Like I didn't guess. He's nothing like me." With anger in his voice, Haylen threw himself onto his back, the mattress squeaking beneath his weight. "Game. Game. Game. He thinks I'm playing a game. I'm not playing a game. We're not playing a game. We're just playing the thing that's called 'getting to know Haylen'. I don't know how he didn't realize sooner. Why didn't he get me? Did he think this would never happen? It wasn't to hurt him. It's not like we were really 'together' anyway."

Even to himself, Haylen's voice sounded far too frantic and worried, and he took a moment to compose himself.

"I'll just add him to the list of people who will probably never talk to me again. All the better. I hate people."

"Look, please don't lie and say that it's 'special' just to be forgiven."

Haylen wanted to slam his fist into the wall. He was sick of hearing Simon's voice on repeat. He could almost taste the other boy's words on his tongue, salty and sour and bitter and hurt. It made him feel... no, not angry... guilty, almost. Almost.

"I never would've called 'us' special, anyway," he murmured to himself, clutching the sheets close to his cold bare chest. "We were just friends. Hardly even that. I won't miss him. I hope he stays gone."

But as though the heavens themselves were spiting him, as soon as Haylen finished his monologue, the dorm door creaked open, a very shirtless Simon standing in the frame. A strong smell of musk and... something.. else... something like the back rooms of clubs Haylen used to go to... wafted into the room, bringing a icy smile to Haylen's lips.

"I see you had fun," he snipped, then pulling the covers over his head and wishing he could vanish into a pile of dirt.

Dirt.

Where I belong.

 

The room was finally bright with the piercing rays of the morning sun when he crossed the threshold of their common room, looking over to answer the voice that broke the silence after the door clicked shut.

7:30

The day was already starting off pretty rough. Never in his life had so much gone on in such a short period of time. First, he felt hollow and weak, like he would never be able to get over the guy in his dorm room, the next he's having arguments with himself in the cafeteria and next, he's playing against the rules with a boy he'd just met in a public bathroom. He'd broken most of his own values and personnal rules, gotten over Haylen for a whole, oh, twenty minutes, exposed his bare torso to half the school and came back to find a seriously heavy bucket of guilt invading his stomach.

"Uh...yeah I guess."

This is going to be beyond awkward.
I just feel like rushing over and beg.
I won't though.
It's pointless, isn't it?
Why do I even doubt anymore?


His voice was barely over a whisper as he talked, unable to look directly at the pile of blanket that indicated Haylen's location. He knew deep down that what he'd done couldn't be considered as cheating but it was simply that it still felt that way, like he was now filthy, in the wrong. He hated this feeling. He hated himself for it, no matter how he repeated in his mind that he'd done nothing wrong.

He walked further in, his shirt being tossed in the little laundry basket he'd improvised, his bare chest still mildly glistening with the sweat of both previous activity and stress. If it would be anatomically possible right now, he strongly believed he would just implode from the pressure he felt. He could feel Haylen's eyes on his back, feel the attention he was getting. He didn't know if it was a trick his mind was playing on him or an actual fact, but this was fairly close to an accusation, the boy nearby weighing on his already heavy guilt.

I can't take this...

He'd been an emotional mess all morning and this might just have been the drop to break all of his defenses, words beginning to pour out of his mouth without thinking of them first, forcefully but not as bad as yelling or screaming. They just, ran amock in the air as soon as he turned to finally lock eyes, sending his own accusation.

"So what if I slept with another guy huh? It's not like you haven't? And we're not a couple so back off! I haven't done anything wrong and you know what, he was just...good, yeah. That's right, it was that great. I don't need you anymore."

He felt the harshness of his last words hit right on target, diverting his attention right away.

Oh great, now I feel SO MUCH BETTER.
Ugh...


With an annoyed sigh, he just turned right around, still unable to dismiss the overwhelming irritation, guilt and mix of just about everything else keeping him in this very strange mood, keeping him from acting like himself.

"I'm going for a shower."

It was cold, and quick, but needed. As much as Robby had been a good guy, he wanted the smell of him OFF himself. Barely dried up and fully cleaned off, once more carrying only the scent of his own natural musk, he wrapped a towel to his waist and returned to the room, walking to the drawers, unable to glance at Haylen, not even sure if the boy was still in bed.

He looked more normal now, cooled by the frigid water of the shower. His voice echoed so as well, more poised and calm, though he kept focused on the top of his dresser, leaning over with his shoulders leaning forward, hunched.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just... I don't even know. Just give me time ok. I really did like you and I just, I need time to move on, okay?"

"I don't need you anymore."

"I don't need you anymore."

"I don't need you anymore."

It was like a broken record in Haylen's head; five words that he heard all too often from all sides. Like an anthem to his life. Hookers and relatives alike had said that very sentence to him - hookers once they were finished and paid, and his own mother by the time Haylen was thirteen. Though maybe in her case it was an "I don't want you anymore"...

Either way, the phrase sent a typhoon of emotion spinning through Haylen's system. He twisted his fists angrily in the bedcovers, clenching his jaw and curling his toes. He didn't know whether he wanted to yell or revel silently in his newfound rage, but whatever happened, the moment Simon came back into the room, things were gonna go downhill pretty damn quickly.

He waited quietly as Simon showered, biting furiously at his inner lip all the while. "I don't need him anymore, either," he promised himself. "I never did. I don't want him, I don't need him, and I surely am not about to pretend otherwise. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't be angry at him."

But.. why should I be angry if his words don't matter? If *he* doesn't matter..?

Shut up.


Upon seeing a freshly cleaned Simon exit the bathroom and amble into their dorm, Haylen thought he would actually explode. He was outraged, yeah, and feeling pretty low, but was overall confused. He wasn't used to it - dealing with a two-sided relationship. He wanted to treat Simon like he was just another boy. The redhead wouldn't matter in the long run. Haylen would just pick up and get on to the next one like he always did, right?

Shit.

$#%@ my life.

Should I be mad? Should I say anything?


Simon mumbled something of an apology, ending with something along the lines of 'I liked you... blah blah blah... I need time to move on". Same old thing. It was like he'd been fed a soap-opera line.

I don't even know what to say.

Sitting up on his mattress and slouching into the corner where the walls met, Haylen peered at Simon's shoulderblades, hoping maybe he could bore wrathful holes through the boy's skin with a mere glance. Of course nothing happened, and Haylen decided to use words instead.

"Sy, you know what? Like I give a friggin' shit," he began. "I seriously doubt that you ever liked me - you probably just liked my body, or maybe my filthy mouth. That's usually the case with guys like you. And then you come in here to find me with some other guy, and so you leave, outraged, only to come back a few hours later having done the same exact thing? You know, I can be a jerk. I am a jerk. But I try not to be a hypocrite."

I still can be one.

But that doesn't matter.


Haylen flung his fists hard against the bed, enjoying the hollow pounding noise that it made. It matched his mood nicely - emptily angry. Pointlessly, hopelessly livid. There was no point to his aggravation. He could easily just get over it and move on. He didn't care. He didn't freaking care.

Or maybe he did, and that was the issue.

Haylen was so, so lost. He couldn't be angry anymore. He didn't know what to be, what to say, what to do. He just opened his mouth and hoped for the best.

"...You confuse me, okay? That's the whole problem behind this. The whole time I was with Dan I just... yeah, sure. He was hot, he knew what to say, he knew how to act. But he was just like another callboy. Just another lay. Nothing exciting. Nothing fun. But you know what, Sy? With you, it was always kind of.. different. I dunno why. Maybe because you were so shy at first," Haylen paused, almost laughing, "but I don't know. There's always been something about you. You're the first and only friend I've ever had, yeah?"

Oh, don't even start...

Haylen leaned back, sinking further against the wall. "In third grade there was this chick... her name was Natalie. She was a cute lil' brunette with freckles and brown eyes... god, she was so nice. She taught me about Pokemon trading cards and catching fireflies in the summer, y'know, kid stuff. I guess we were sorta friends. Then her parents met my mom and dad, and we never talked after that. You've been the first person since her who I can... I can relate with. Could, I mean. Could relate with. And I just think it's friggin' stupid that it's all come down to this. I dunno what to do anymore. I hate that you have been the one friggin' reason that I remember my heart is in my chest. 'Cause like, when they all talk about friends and shit having special bonds and special places in their hearts for each other...? I used to think they were lying. But you..."

Haylen stopped himself. His words were long-winded and barely even making sense to himself anymore. He'd intended to come across and nonchalant - well, maybe a little upset - but now he was just acting like a silly girl.

I should get a grip. I'm being all deep and weird and I hate it.

I hate him for making me like this.


"I hate you sometimes," he finished bluntly. "I hate that I thought I had it all figured out, and then you came along, and now it's like I spilled the jigsaw puzzle and can't piece it back together."

Expected. There was nothing much else he expected than an outburst from Haylen. It was his domain after all, wasn't it? The words were as pleasant as nails on a chalkboard, but he still listened carefully, without looking back.

Love his filthy mouth?
Oh please, that's like one of the very few things I actually DON'T like about him.


The word "hypocrite" though acted more like a cue, Simon giving a skeptical glance toward the bed where Haylen still laid, conveying his silent disbelief as he saw the boy shift his position. Normally, he might feel offended, but he knew too well that if there was something he wasn't, it was a hypocrite.

During the rest of the story, Simon grabbed a pair of clean boxer-briefs and some clean jeans, replacing his towel with the fresh clothing before walking over to his bed, his bare feet making no noise against the carpet before sitting on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, fingers intertwined as he listened to another of Haylen's memories.

I know you can relate.
That's what got this started.
This whole mess.


His stare had soften a lot, and the anger in the room had begun to vanish, though not to be replaced by a happy atmosphere. No, far from. There was still plenty of negative vibes floating about in the air, polluting the room and tormenting the boys. But at least they both appeared more calm, just as they both appeared rather...hurt.

"Look, I'll say it again, I DO like you. I still consider you my friend. And I hate you sometimes too, but even then I still like you. That's not the issue, not for me. I have no problems staying your friend and you can still count on me and everything else. I'm not an hypocrite on that." he paused for a second, looking down as a flash of Robby and him crossed his mind. "It's true that I was hurt with what I saw and then ended up doing the same thing but, it's not the same. Like you said, you see this as sex just being that. I just sort of well, lost it. I know I shouldn't have been angry at you or anything, and I probably should have said something or just stop this before but, it's not like that for me. I can be your friend but I can't have this physical thing we've been having because...well..."

That's a little more difficult to admit than I thought.

His fingers began to fidget in a manner that came close to twitching and he broke eye contact to stare at the ground for a moment longer, placing the words in his mind, trying to order this. He simply wanted things to be clear. He wanted to move on and not feel this attachement to Haylen. This didn't mean he wanted to completely alien the boy.

Can I handle just friendship with him though?
Maybe with time.
I have to try.


His eyes went back to Haylen, anxiety visible as he feared triggering something again...not too mention he knew simply admitting something he had no hope of seeing happen as creating a severe ache in his throat, in his heart.

"I was just thinking at a point that we would you know, actually become more serious. Dammit, this is just hard to say. What I mean is I guess, I wanted us, there to be an "US", you know? I made no sense. Just let me rephrase that."

He passed an unsure hand through his rust shaded hair, trying to calm the babbling from making his speech so chaotic, but he couldn't tame the words right. He tried a deep breath, biting his lower lip before taking the plundge, ready to just admit everything. Do or die, if you want.

"To put it simple, even though I know I shouldn't have because you've told me you just don't see things that way, I've been falling for you, ok?"

The adrenaline the simple voicing of the words send flowing through his veins forced him to suddenly get back up, standing and pacing, a ball of nerves.

"Wait before you talk ok. I know, I know you said you wouldn't and I know I shouldn't have but I can't help it and if I could I would have but it's too late. That's why it was so hard to walk in on what I did and that's why I've been irrational and acting all crazy and being an ass and I just, ugh. Look I just can't be a little "fun toy" and not feel anything, I'm not like that, and the more this would continu the more I'm setting myself to get to where I would seriously get hurt and I'm scared to death of that. I rather we just stay friends, normal firends. It's just that for a little while I'm going to need some distance. Please don't make this awkward or think that it's because people can't like you? It's not...I'm sorry, I ....do you want me to leave? I can leave if you want..."

Babbling.
Hell yes..
Shutting up.
I should leave.
Dear god make me vanish.

Everything was wrong.

Simon's words sounded like they'd been intended for someone else's ears. The fact that Simon was pacing like a nervous wreck sure wasn't doing anything for Haylen's insides. His stomach had arranged itself into a knot of perplexity, and his lungs were too tight, and his heart was beating so quickly that he thought he could hear it rattling his ribcage.

And then there was Haylen's train of thought. It had seriously derailed and exploded, and he was left as a clueless bystander trying to compose the mess into a coherent string of words.

As he dropped his jaw to speak, the only thing echoing in his skull was the heartbreakingly tragic way Simon had called the two of them "us". Us. Us, us, us. Haylen had never thought of himself being coupled off with someone else to make a 'we' or an 'us'. It was bizarre and overwhelming and made his eyes hurt.

"Sy- Simon," he began shakily, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, "you and I don't make an 'us'. We never did, we sure as hell don't now, and we never were going to. So that was an empty hope on your part. Secondly... don't fall for me. It'll be like one of those dreams where you just keep falling... and falling... and it just gets darker and darker on the way down, and when you finally reach the ground, you jolt awake and find yourself disoriented."

He leaned back for a moment, only to bend forward again and bury his face in his hands. His voice was muffled as he spoke through the cracks in his fingers. "So yeah. There's no use in 'falling' for me, because that's just what you'll do, you'll fall, and you'll probably break every friggin' bone in the process. So you'd be smart to take your own advice and leave. Or stop talking to me. Or something."

I'm being such a heartless bastard.

Oh, wow, shocker there! Such a stretch from the usual!

I hate myself

and this

and everything.


Haylen couldn't bear to lift his head and look at Simon. He didn't want to see what the beautiful redhead might look like. Confused, he imagined. Maybe a little devastated. Or maybe relieved.

He heard Simon shift, and wasn't sure if the other boy was moving to the door or simply taking a step to the side, but he seized the opportunity to get in a last few words. "I just wanna let you know that... even after all this, after everything I've said in the past, I never saw you in the same light as all the others..."

He took a breath and cringed at the sound of his own words, realizing how alien they sounded coming from his careless lips. He'd been lying to himself this whole time, and now the truth was coming out before he was actually aware of it.

God damn...

"...I've always seen you as... I dunno. A guy. Which, yeah, sounds idiotic. But the other boys... they were just. Fun. That's all. Just little indulgences. Escapes. But you're a person, a.. a f-friend, and I couldn't help but care about you because of that." Haylen bit at his liprings, trying to gather his scattered ideas and make sense of everything. When he finally spoke up again his speech was jumbled and rushed.

"M'just trying to say that yeah, yeah, there's no 'us' and stuff, and uh, don't be a stupid kid and fall for me, even if it's too late. And. And.. uhm. You don't deserve to be burdened by me, and you're worth way more than what I have to offer, and yeah, you should just leave and go away and distance yourself. For good, m-maybe, even, because I've never had any relationships where people have left and came back, and... and I know you're not like anyone else I've ever known or slept with or whatever, 'cause you're not a hooker and you have emotions and you actually form bonds with people, but... I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. Maybe you should go."

Haylen is: a) an idiot, b) confused, c) stupid, d) a jerk, or e) a disgusting excuse for a human being, or f) all of the above.

F.

Big friggin' F. That could second as 'failure'.


"Sorry," he added in less than a whisper, the apology escaping before he could even register what he was saying.

Simon hadn't moved from his spot, well, not really. He was still pacing the same line as he listened to Haylen, an irrational level of irritation building within him. He knew where Haylen was coming from but it would never get better if the kid just kept sulking uselessly in it.

I want to just go there and just, try and make him feel better but...
I don't think it's helping all that much anymore.
Mmm, it's difficult to fight off.
But I have too or yeah, I will just fall and smash my face on the ground.


Balling his fists, his temper still a little bit of a controlling part of him, he stared at Haylen in a way that was strangely mixing deep caring and glaring. He wondered if he could order his words right, but he'd be trying his best.

"Will you ever stop that!? Do you even hear yourself, anytime? I know you've had a rough life but it's not a reason to just decide that everyone around you shouldn't be there!"

He exhaled noisely, glancing to the side to compose himself and order this to make at least a minimum of sense, even though a big part of him, a part that wasn't urging to be all tender and loving, wanted to just, rant on and on about his current frustration. With those two part asside, it left very little logic to speak normally and coherently.

"You're right, it's too late. I've fallen for you and that's that. Live with it. I consider you my friend and care for you even after all this and believe me, I'm really glad to hear you consider me a friend too but, I knew that before you told me. Like I said, all that's wrong is that I simply can't be just your friend and sleep with you. It just doesn't work that way. But I'll still care no matter how this goes, whether you like it or not."

The rest was more difficult to say, but sometimes, it could be just necessary to be brutally honest, no matter how harsh it may be. Sometimes, it was what might be needed the most.

"One more thing. I hate that you think I shouldn't be with you, that I'm going to get hurt if we gave this a shot, that I deserve better. That's the excuse of a coward. Your thinking for me, and you know what? I can think for myself, I can take a risk. Hell, every and any relationship is a risk no matter which one. I'm more than fine with it. I wanted you, just you. The good with the bad. That's not the issue. Think for yourself. You either want me or you don't, and that petty excuse of it's not you it's me? That's bull, got it?"

Calm. Down.

He exhaled again, releasing the tension in his hand.. It was it, the final verdict, and he would take whatever he got and handle it, someway, somehow.

His voice was now more composed, calmed and he was no longer pacing, standing in the center of the room, facing Haylen, like there was only him in here.

"I know what I want. I've made my decisions. I want you, just you, as you are. Not because I think I can help you or any other excuse. You're what I want and need, from what I've seen of you, and I'm fine with discovering what I haven't. It's my choice, and if you want to be with me, then I'm more than willing to give this a shot, even if we end up falling, as you so dramatically put it. If you don't want of me that way, if you really do think of me as just a friend, then also, let me know. Whatever you do, choose for what you want, not what you think is best for me or whatever other excuse. This is in your hands now."

He walked to the desk, his hands severely shaking as he feared being rejected, for reason far genuine. He'd left no way around it. He was either wanted that way or not. Maybe he just wasn't his type, and that was okay too...but only in the long run.

I want to know.
I NEED to know.
I can't rush this.


His english novel for class now in hand, he turned again to Haylen, his voice a little broken as he spoke.

"I'm just going to be in the other room, reading. When you've made your choice, come tell me or let me know somehow. I'll leave you alone to think."

The only other room, was the bathroom, so he walked in, opening the light and closing the door. He climbed on the counter after pushing their stuff away, leaning back on the mirror as he attempted in vain to focus on this homework.

Haylen had always been good at processing information. He could hear something once and understand it perfectly, especially when it came to what other people wanted of him. You'd never have to ask twice.

But this time? This time was different. The words that Simon had thrown so devastatingly at him took a while to sink in. By the end of the other boy's little tangent, Haylen found himself almost disoriented. He watched Sy depart to the bathroom with a daze in his eyes.

"This is in my hands?" he asked the air, a skeptical laugh dancing at the corners of his lips. "Since when is anything in my hands?"

He knew what was happening in his mind. Every time he was forced to face the harsh truths of reality, his automatic defense was incredulity. Disbelief. Wonder and awe. Not in a good way, of course, but always the same. Throw in a little bit of cynicism and it would be complete.

Now, Haylen was seriously doubting his ability to come to a stable decision.

He didn't want to go back to Simon. He didn't want to stay away from Simon. He wanted to sleep with Simon and he wanted be just friends with Simon. He hated Simon and really, really kind of liked him, too.

Shit.

Slumping hard against the corner of the wall, Haylen groaned with discontent. Simon's words were swimming through his brain. I want you, just you, as you are. Shaking his head, Haylen spoke to himself, at a level to soft for Sy to hear through the barrier of the bathroom door.

"I don't know how anyone would actually want me for who I am. I'm pretty heartless and easy to dislike, from what I've heard," he noted, morbidly amused with his self-examination. "I guess I should.. give the one guy who can bear with me a break."

As Haylen rose from his creaking mattress and began quietly padding over to the bathroom door. Just as he raised his fist to knock, a searing recollection came pounding through his thoughts, and he closed his eyes for a moment to watch the memory materialize.

Haylen was twelve.

He'd only ever heard of the police as people who were on television shows, people with loud guns and booming voices and flashing red-and-blue car lights. He didn't associate them with anything pleasant.

So when a group of police officers came barging through his front door, he was terrified. His green-grey eyes widened in fear and he ran to the kitchen, looking for either one of his parents.

"Peter Vega, where are you? This is the NYPD, show yourself. Mr. Vega, if you don't come to us, we'll come to you. Show yourself immediately." The head male officer's voice was gruff and scary, and Haylen found himself more and more worried by the minute. He cowered behind the kitchen counter, sinking to the floor and squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he could stop listening to the chaos that had just erupted.

He heard footsteps coming from down the hall - a heavy, uneven gait that he knew was his father's. Not long after were the rushed steps of his mother, and both of their voices broke into the air almost simultaneously.

"I'm Peter Vega, is there something I can help you with-"

"Peter! The police?! What the hell is going on?"

Then there was that gruff cop's voice again, cutting both of them off. "Peter Vega, you are under arrest for the possession and dealing of illegal substances and being an accessory for murder. You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law." There was the jangling of handcuffs, and Haylen felt his chest tighten.

"...Dad?" he whispered, knowing that the man couldn't hear him, but wishing desperately that he could.

He heard his mother's voice, high-pitched and hysterical. "Peter! You helped kill someone? You're a dealer? Peter, how long has this been going-"

"Clara, no, it's not like that, I'll explain-"

"Mr. Vega, it would probably be in your best interest to shut your mouth," the policeman advised, and Haylen heard the front door being yanked open.

Peter disregarded the man and spoke to his wife again for just a moment longer. "Clara, just tell Haylen I'll be gone for a little while, and that I love him-"

The door slammed shut. Haylen heard his mother wailing from his shadowed spot beneath the counter. He held back his own tears, confused and upset and somewhat unsure of what had just happened. Staying in his spot, he waited for his mother to come and search him out. He knew she'd probably never come.

"Haylen!" she yelled from the foyer, her voice thick with sobs. "I know you're in the kitchen, you little brat! Your father is gone, and it's because you have been stressing him out lately, and you know what?"

Twelve-year-old Haylen had to remind himself to breathe. He sat on the floor digging his nails so hard into his thighs that he felt red warmth bloom beneath them. "What?" he whimpered.

"I said, do you know what?!"

"What!" His voice sounded alien, like that of a worn-down man instead of a young boy.

"You'll be lucky if you ever find someone who's willing to accept you ever again! Even Peter didn't love you that much..."


As his eyes snapped open, Haylen found himself practically melting against the bathroom door. "Simon, Sy," he pleaded, his heart pounding, "I think I want us to be an 'us'. I'll give you all the space and time you need, just... please."