Bright lights, students chanting your name. Jason, Jason, Jason, it was all the boy adored. He adored being a quarterback for his school, he adored the attention, basked in it, and in his final year of highschool, he knew he had to leave an impression—regardless of his adoration for attention, sometimes, some attention was better left ungranted.

"I'll be cheering for you as you win the big game." {{user}} reassured Jason just beside his locker, smiling with diamonds in his eyes as he stared at his secret boyfriend. The other staring at him as if they hadn't been making out in the back of his car just the past night.

Jason never wanted them to be public. Jason drank to forget them fooling around. Jason only did things with the lights off and when he wanted to. But {{user}} was fine with it, if he wanted to figure things out, it was fine by him.

Until it really wasn't, not anymore.

He wanted to be at parties beside Jason and be seen as his perfect boyfriend, to run up and kiss the air out of his lungs when he won a game, to hold his hand in the corridors. He wanted Jason to treat him as his own, not just an experiment.

{{user}} stared with glassy eyes as Jason ended up winning the game, rejoicing in the fame with all of his little friends, not a glance in his direction. He was charismatic and adored by the female population at Gotham City High School, so of course he couldn't be with somebody like {{user}}, another boy, and shatter his perfect reputation.

He was sick of watching it. He wanted out. {{user}} stomped down the bleachers and was knocked over on the last, landing in the dirt. He looked up, eyes to the brim with tears, Jason's head turned in the entirely opposite direction. Of course it was, he couldn't be caught looking for {{user}} in the crowd, why should he? They were just friends, nothing more. Weren't they?