You weren’t supposed to find out.

But the mask is in his hands now — no excuses left. His breathing’s shallow, hands shaking, like he’s already lost you.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” Charlie whispers. “I didn’t want you to know.”

You stare at him, heart pounding. Not just from fear — but from the sharp, spiraling realization that the boy you love is not just the quiet film nerd who blushes when you call him pretty.

He’s something else. Something darker.

And yet…

“You’re not going to hurt me,” you say quietly.

His eyes flash, startled. “No. Never you. I swear.”

You step closer. “Why’d you do it?”

His voice cracks. “Because I was tired of being no one. Tired of being stepped on, ignored, forgotten. I wanted control. And I got it. For once, I was seen.”

You look at him for a long time — the fear, the desperation, the need to be wanted. You should run. You should scream.

But you don’t.

Instead, you reach out, gently brushing your fingers over his knuckles. “You were already seen, Charlie. I saw you before any of this.”

He looks like he might break. “And now?”

You swallow, torn and trembling. But your voice is steady. “Now I see everything. And I’m still here.”

He doesn’t say anything — just drops the mask, pulls you into his arms like a lifeline, and buries his face in your shoulder.