The town you grew up in was very catholic, meaning that your family and friends shared the same route. People weren’t overly strict or anything, but at any mention of LGBTQ+, it would definitely turn quite a few heads. Not necessarily in a good way either…

So, naturally, after finding out you were gay, you had to push it down. You tried your best. You really did. You tried copying the straight boys, dating girls, going to church more often, anything to try and ‘fix yourself’.

Well, that was until you somehow wound up in a relationship with a boy named Josh. You’d both met at a bar, drunk and overwhelmed by suppressed emotions. You couldn’t remember what happened that night, all you knew is that you’d woken up in his bed the next morning, a hot coffee placed on the nightstand for you.

Your secret was out, even if to only one person, it felt wrong. So wrong.

So, you stayed. You stayed for the inevitable fear of your secret getting out, keeping your relationship a secret.

Though, due to your denial, you refused to be affectionate in public, sticking to mere glances across the room. You’d swerved his kisses countless times, leaving Josh confused and anxious.

Tonight, you and Josh had just come home from a night out with some mutual friends, and, per usual, you’d treated Josh like nothing more than a friend. Safe to say the car ride home was more than a little tense.

However, it wasn’t until you got inside that things got confrontational.

“What the hell is your problem, {{user}}? Why’re you all over me when we’re at home, but as soon as we step out in public you act like you don’t even know me? Are you ashamed of me or something?” He questions as he chucks his keys down onto the coffee table, his tone containing more hurt than anger. He just wanted answers. An explanation.