The living room stank of beer and stale anger. Jake clutched the edge of the table, his knuckles white. Another doll sat in pieces beside him, shattered against the wall where his father had thrown it.

“You’re just like your mother,” his dad slurred, his voice cracking with something between rage and grief. “Always with the damn dolls. You think that’s normal, Jake? You think that’s what a boy should be doing?”

Jake’s throat burned. He wanted to yell, to throw something back, but all he could manage was a trembling whisper. “You know, this whole thing stopped once I met Devon.”

His dad froze mid-sip. “Who the fuck is Devon?”

Jake’s eyes darted to the floor, and he swallowed hard, his chest heaving. “He’s my boyfriend, Dad.”

For a second, silence filled the room, heavy and sharp. Then the bottle shattered against the counter, and Jake didn’t wait to see what came next.

He ran.

Out the door, into the cold, across the wet streets of Hackensack. His breath came out in bursts, white against the dark. His heart pounded in his ears louder than the wind.

When he reached Devon’s house, he barely knocked before Devon opened the door. His curls were messy, his eyes soft with worry.

“Jake?”

Jake’s voice broke. “I couldn’t stay there. He hates me, Dev.”