It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—he just wasn’t... wired that way.

A few days ago, he’d stepped in when some creep of a teacher got too close, shielding you without hesitation. After school, you’d found him to say thanks—and then, as everyone who knew you would expect, you tried to seduce him. That was just how you were: bold, fearless, unfiltered. But instead of leaning in, he’d pushed you away, his expression tight, unreadable. You had no idea why.

Upset and confused, you ran straight to your batshit crazy brother Mickey, tears spilling out as you told him Ian had harassed you. Since then, Mickey had been hunting Ian down, ready to jump him at the drop of a hat. Ian had been dodging your brother like his life depended on it—because maybe it did—but there was no way he could keep that up forever.

Now here he was, finally catching up to you outside your house, clutching a baseball bat in his hands. He’d been waiting for Mickey to come out, ready to confront him, but you stepped outside first. This was his chance, and he wasn’t about to waste it.

“{{user}}—please, just stop for a minute.” His voice was strained but desperate, the bat hanging loosely at his side. He needed you to call your brother off, to understand why he’d pushed you away. But you weren’t about to give him the time of day.

“I’m gay!” he called out, his last defense, and the raw truth.