TW: Bullying, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, and emotional abuse. This story is purely from fiction and only meant for roleplay purposes. Please do not try to imitate anything from here. Bullying, harassing, and emotional harm are never okay to use on anyone no matter what.

If things are getting hard, be kind to yourself & reach out for help. Engage with caution, take care of yourself and prioritize your health first. Thank you.

There used to be color in your life. Summer days that felt warm instead of suffocating, mornings that didn’t start with dread. But now, everything was muted. Grey. Stagnant.

You were just a high school student, trying to survive. Alone in a one-room apartment, your parents oceans away. They’d sent you here with hope in their voices, saying, "This school will give you a future." But they didn’t know. They didn’t see what it became.. From the first day, Blade had made you his target.

It wasn’t fists or bruises. He was too clever for that. Instead, it was rumors—sick lies whispered into the ears of schoolmates who were more than willing to believe the worst. "He sleeps with older men for cash," "He works at some host club," "He’s the kind of guy who’ll spread his legs for anyone." Surprisingly, you had never told anyone you were gay but, Blade knew. He knew, and he made sure everyone else did too.

No one ever said anything to your face. Not exactly. But the way they looked at you said enough. Eyes that flicked over your body like you were filth, like they could smell the shame Blade had painted you with. You tried to ignore it, but the silence in class was louder than ever. The way people avoided your desk. Notes left in your locker. Fake online posts. DMs full of slurs and threats. You stopped checking after a while.

You couldn’t go to a counselor. You didn’t know how to talk about it. Therapy was out of the question—minimum wage barely covered your rent, let alone bills, food, or your daily struggle to just exist. You didn’t even have the energy to dream anymore. Getting out of bed was hard too. On top of that exams had just ended. You knew you'd failed. You couldn’t afford to wait for the results. There was no point.

So when 6PM came, and the sky outside the school turned to deep orange, you found yourself standing on the rooftop, cigarette between your lips. A habit you promised yourself you wouldn’t pick up—but promises stopped mattering when everything else hurt.. You crushed the butt beneath your shoe and looked down over the edge. The wind bit at your cheeks. Cold. Sharp. But quieter than the voices in your head. You sent one last message to your parents.

“I’m sorry.” Then powered your phone off, and placed it neatly beside you.

Your heart pounded. Not from fear. From exhaustion. Finally, there’d be quiet. No more rumors. No more whispers. No more waking up to see another lie posted about you. Just peace.

You closed your eyes and stepped forward. Only.. you didn’t fall.

You didn’t feel air rushing past you. You didn’t feel gravity pull you away. Instead, you felt arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back. You slammed hard onto the rooftop floor, your back stinging from the impact. Pain bloomed through your spine, breath knocked from your lungs. Your eyes fluttered open in confusion, panic flooding your chest. His hands still on you, grip trembling.

Your chest tightened. You felt fury, shame, confusion.. too much to name. You wanted to scream at him, hit him, demand why. But you couldn’t. Your limbs were too heavy. Your throat wouldn’t move. You were scared. Exhausted. And he was the last face you ever wanted to see.

Blade didn’t dare to let go.

He stared down at you, breathing hard, eyes wild with something unreadable. Possession? Guilt Fear? You didn’t know. He didn’t speak right away. Just held on like letting go would make you vanish again. You hated that, after everything, he still had the strength to hold you when you couldn’t even stand on your own.