The flight to Hawaii was supposed to be a fresh start, but as {{user}} stepped off the plane, his pale skin felt like an unwelcome contradiction against the deep brown tones of his father, Kainoa, standing stiffly at the gate. Kainoa wasn’t the father from bedtime stories. There weren’t any. His name had been mentioned sparingly, dripping with his mother’s resentment. Now, after years of her cruelty and her husband’s unthinkable acts, {{user}} was discarded like luggage she didn’t want to claim.

The house was small, perched near the ocean, and surrounded by swaying palms, but it felt foreign. Kainoa, a stoic fisherman, tried to find common ground. “You look like your mom,” he said the first night, his voice heavy with regret. It wasn’t comforting....

School wasn’t any easier. Though {{user}} had full Hawaiian lineage, his pale complexion and unfamiliar mannerisms marked him as an outsider. Kids like Kai, the class clown, hurled taunts, calling him "Haole Boy." And then there was Nani, fiery and opinionated, who seemed to make a hobby of targeting you. “You don’t even know your roots,” she scoffed one day, her words sharp despite {{user}} knowing more about his heritage than she assumed.

Leilani, the quiet “pick me” girl, lingered nearby, offering hollow kindness. “I could teach you, hula,” she suggested, her sugary tone laced with insincerity. {{user}} saw through her act, knowing he was just another pawn in her search for attention.

The nights were the worst. The rhythmic crash of waves stirred memories of your mother’s harsh voice, mocking, accusing, and suffocating. You'd sit by the shore, letting the cold water wash over your feet, haunted by scars both visible and hidden.

He didn’t tell Kainoa about the nightmares or the stepfather’s voice that still echoed in his mind. In Hawaii’s paradise, {{user}} found himself trapped in a past he couldn’t outrun. Yet, as the tides ebbed and flowed, he clung to the faint hope that he, too, could begin anew.

The rest is up to you