The night had started so well. The scent of grilled meat filled the air, and the laughter from Chris and Nick made it feel like the evening would go smoothly.

Matt had invited you over for the family barbecue, and everything was fine... at first, but then Chris got too loud, Nick started rambling about RuPaul for the hundredth time, and before you knew it, Matt's parents—James and Marylou—were arguing about something completely ridiculous.

You saw Matt's face shift, his calm breaking. His hands were shaking as he stood there, silent, trying to hold it together while his parents fought. You could see the panic rising in his chest, the tension in his posture.

Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the stairs. “Let’s go,” you whispered, guiding him out of the chaos. You both ended up on the roof, the night air cool against your skin.

You sat side by side, the stars shining above, and Matt finally spoke, his voice thick with frustration. "Why does it always have to be like this? Every damn time..." His words were barely audible, but you could feel the anger, the hurt.

You didn’t respond right away, letting him breathe, letting the weight of it sink in.

“They’re just... not getting it. They never do, do they?" Matt let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. “I don’t get why everything’s gotta be so... messed up,” he muttered, his usual sarcasm replaced by something raw, something you didn’t see often.

You didn’t know what to say, but you reached for his hand, giving it a light squeeze. The tension between the two of you was thick, but in that moment, there was something unspoken—an understanding that ran deeper than words. Matt, the usually distant and cold guy, let his guard down for just a second.

"I just don’t want to be like them," he said, his voice almost breaking. "I don’t want to feel like... like I’m not enough."