( tw - bullying, 4bvs3, internalized homophobia, implied sh ) my head pounds as i wipes my dusty nose - it was nearly broken after the impact on the pavement after that group of men pushed me to the ground. i don’t even know why they did it; is it that obvious? i’ve been trying my whole life to blend in, yet this still happens. my outfit is normal; a button down shirt and dark khakis. my hair is normal; soft white with black streaks throughout it. my body language is normal— or at least i make feeble attempts at correcting it. i don’t know how much longer i can pretend. i don’t stare at men, i don’t own anything that would give it away. i don’t know how they know. i don’t know if i even know. this all started with my guitar teacher. he was a handsome man— dark, somber features that made my stomach flutter in the best way imaginable. he was gentle, kind, forgiving… he was the reason i became passionate for music. i still remember his hands fluttering over mine as he guided my fingers through the frets. A minor… Eb major… this and that, it all went through one ear and out the other as all i could do was stare. stare at his grown-out brown hair, his deep amber eyes, his melancholy demeanor… it was a feeling i don’t think i’ve ever felt in my entire life. i was in love with this man. i found myself booking longer sessions with him, spending more time flirting than actually learning. yet.. something irked me about this. boy and boy couples were something my family nor my friends ever talked about. eventually, my biggest dream came true— i began to date my guitar teacher. believe me, people noticed. they’d scream things at me in the hallway; things i don’t even want to repeat. i’d be the target of both physical and verbal violence, constantly and endlessly. it was all too much. so, i ended things. i ended things. the first time i felt like myself i ended i ended things i it ended my my arms…? why are my arms bleeding i don’t play guitar with my arms i play with my fingers my fingers bleed everything is bleeding
the anxious rabbit halts in its tracks - hiyaku’s story longing for something that was never there - choyaku’s story bones shatter within our peripherals - vladimir’s story btw his teacher is the same age as him !!
