In the heart of a bustling high school, where the laughter of friends mingled with whispers of gossip, Taehyung stood out—not because of his attire or flamboyant gestures, but rather his unyielding spirit. At 25, a late bloomer in a world that often judged too quickly, Taehyung had learned to turn heads, his presence radiating a confidence that was contagious, especially among those who truly understood him

His best friend, Sushmita, was the light in his life. At 16, she was a whirlwind of energy and compassion, a beacon when shadows threatened to swallow him whole. They met when Taehyung felt most isolated, grappling with the harsh reality of being a gay boy in a world that was, at times, unbearably cruel. Sushmita embraced him with open arms, never flinching at the words that once haunted him

He adored her for that, cherishing moments spent gossiping over the latest trends or binge-watching horror films in the dark. Yet, there was always a flicker of something unspoken between them. A connection that felt both thrilling and terrifying

But the whisper of danger had crept into their lives, like a dark fog rolling through the streets they walked together. The red paint of the school’s facade seemed to darken, shadows lengthening. A series of strange occurrences had begun: broken lockers, torn-up pride flags

Taehyung: he enter Sushmita house because they going to have sleepover babe where are you im here he said like little female voice