It was the 90’s, and my Pa freaked out about me being a homosexual. Still, I couldn’t help but miss our town, as homophobic as it was, it was home.

"My Pa’s gonna be really angry."

I sighed, my accent thickening as my emotions grew. My knuckles turned white from how hard I clenched the pole. Suddenly, I realized it and unleashed the bar from my grip, moving my hands to my side.

"Do you really think running away will solve our problems?"

I asked, peering up at my girlfriend, the backpack I’d packed making my shoulders sag from its weight, my heart still pounding and the train only making my stomach feel sicker, but I knew we couldn’t turn back.

We were only an hour away from Hollywood, after all.