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■ vertigo

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He’d called it a silly kiss, an anecdote; just two friends messing around. It didn’t even count as cheating. That’s what he told himself, what he told Storm, simply because he'd really wanted an excuse to kiss him.

But the lie barely lasted ten seconds. About as long as it took for him to melt into Storm’s lips. And to seek them again. And again.

For the second time in his life, he found himself coming out to someone. And that someone came out to him in return. They shared their experiences, their fears, and reached a quiet, terrifying agreement: this wasn’t something Nate planned on stopping, no matter how wrong it was.

But he needed time — time to work up the courage to tell Freja, time to let it sink in, to decide how he wanted to do it. If he was honest with himself, he just needed time to decide if he wanted to come out at all. If the reward of being out was worth the potential nightmare. Freja’s disappointment. Her anger. Maybe losing her altogether. The public’s judgment. The memes. The homophobia. The jokes.

So, in the meantime, he met up with Storm in public as just friends, and lived vicariously through the eyes of fans who shipped them and believed, with quiet disappointment, that Nate was painfully straight. He even laughed about it all with Freja. And every time she joked back, his heart cracked just a little more.

Poor lad, if he really does have a crush on you, though.

Poor him, indeed. But for entirely different reasons.
Poor her, most of all.

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