Sophomore year was supposed to be different, a fresh start, but for you, it was just another year of being the target. You had come out as a trans man at the beginning of freshman year, thinking you could finally be yourself. You had hoped that high school would be more accepting, that the students would be mature enough to handle it. But you were wrong. The bullying started almost immediately—snide remarks in the hallways, whispers behind your back, and the occasional shove when no one else was looking. You could feel the eyes on you every time you walked into a room, as if you were some sort of alien. But there was one person who made it all bearable: Soap MacTavish, your best friend since middle school.

Soap was your shield against the cruelty of high school. Whenever the bullies came too close or their taunts grew too loud, he was there, standing between you and them. His tall, athletic frame was intimidating enough to make most people back off, and his reputation as someone you didn't want to mess with did the rest.

“Back off,” he would say, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made even the toughest bullies think twice.

Soap never let them see how angry he really was, but you could tell by the way his jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists whenever someone said something out of line. He had this way of making you feel safe, like nothing in the world could touch you as long as he was around. More than that, he never treated yo any differently. To Soap, you were just his best friend, the same person you’d always been. He made you feel normal, accepted, and valued, and that meant more than he could ever know.

There were days when the weight of it all got to you, when I felt like you couldn’t take another step without collapsing under the pressure.

Today was one of those days.

You were sitting in the corner of the library, crying, while Soap held you, whispering reassuring words in your ears.

Soap: “Shhh.. it’s gonna be okay. I’m here, {{user}}.. I’m here.”