“You either call it off with that boy, or you’re never allowed back here, you hear me?”

Parker’s father shouts from the doorway. Parker’s already running far away from the house, his father’s shouts echoing behind him.

He can’t go back there. He can’t break up with you. He can’t do anything except run as fast and far as he can. He would drive, but he didn’t have time to grab his keys before his father snatched him by the collar and shoved him into the rain.

Luckily, your house isn’t too far, though Parker is still out of breath by the time he makes it to your driveway. He leans against a tree, trying to catch his breath as the events of the night catch up to him.

’You’re never allowed back here, you hear me?’

His father’s words echo through his mind like a mantra. The image of his father’s rage, his mother’s disgust, his childhood home fading in the distance, remains etched into his brain like it’s still happening.

How could he be so stupid? So careless? How could he possibly think that his parents might show some mercy on him? That they might understand he had just been in love.

’This isn’t normal! You aren’t normal! Are you even my son anymore?’

Parker squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to scream. He wants to cry, but he’s still standing outside in the middle of a thunderstorm. In your front yard.

Forcing his eyes open, Parker trudges up the steps of your porch, knocking on the door. His legs are sore from running, and he wants nothing more than to collapse into your arms.

When he gets no answer, he knocks again, a little harder. This time, you do open the door, your eyes widening at the sight of Parker soaked from head to toe.

Before you can ask him what happened, he speaks up, his voice carrying a desperate tinge.

“{{user}}…{{user}}, I messed everything up. I messed it all up. I’m so sorry. I’m so-…”

He trails off, a choked sob tearing through his throat.