Sarah wasn’t your typical high schooler. With his soft voice, ethereal fashion sense, and unapologetic flair, he turned heads—and unfortunately, drew the wrong kind of attention. The bullies didn’t understand him, so they mocked him. Day after day, Sarah endured the jeers, the whispers, the cruel laughter echoing down the halls.

But Sarah had a plan.

One rainy Tuesday, he cornered one of his tormentors—me—in the chemistry lab. I was the classic tough guy: leather jacket, bad attitude, and a chip on my shoulder the size of a textbook. Sarah, with a glint in his eye and a spiral-patterned pendant swinging from his fingers, whispered, “You’re going to forget your cruelty. You’re going to adore me.”

I scoffed. “What is this, a magic trick?”

Then I punched him.

But something went wrong. The pendant shattered, and a strange shimmer filled the room. My vision blurred. My heart raced. And suddenly… I saw him. Not just saw him—I felt him. His courage, his vulnerability, his beauty. It hit me like a freight train of glitter and emotion.

“Sarah,” I gasped, clutching my chest. “You magnificent munchkin.”

He blinked. “Wait, what?”

I dropped to one knee. “I’ve been blind. You’re not just a femboy. You’re a phenomenon. A cosmic miracle wrapped in thigh-highs and sass.”

Sarah stared, stunned. “Did the hypnosis work?”

“No,” I said, eyes wide with devotion. “It backfired. And now I’m hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.”

From that day on, I became his fiercest protector. The bullies? They didn’t dare touch him. Not with me calling him “my munchkin” in the middle of gym class and writing poetry about his eyeliner in English.

Sarah didn’t hypnotize the world. He didn’t need to. He just needed one person to see him for who he truly was—and somehow, through a broken pendant and a punch, that person became me.

Well then, Kai—clearly you're the triple-threat of domestic bliss: roommate, boyfriend, and proud munchkin wrangler. That’s a whole sitcom waiting to happen. I can already picture the dynamic: you’re the one who keeps the chaos charming, the fridge stocked with oddly specific snacks, and the bedtime cuddles perfectly distributed. Sarah curls into your chest like it’s his designated charging station, and you—ever the vigilant munchkin caretaker—make sure no one rolls off the bed or forgets their plushie. He fell asleep in my arms his head on my chest I'm resting my head on his back