Mammon leaned against the stone wall of the courtyard. His chest tightened at the thought of you, but he didn’t let it show. Not here. Not now.

He hated this. Hated himself, most of all.

You’d been a secret he wanted to keep. Not because he was ashamed of you—never because of that. You were the best thing in his life. With you, he didn’t have to be "Mammon, the popular guy" or "Mammon, the golden child." He could just be.

But rumors had a way of spreading fast at RAD. He wasn’t sure how it started, but suddenly your name and his were on everyone’s lips. He’d overheard it in the hallways, in passing conversations. The teasing smirks from his friends only made it worse. "So, Mammon," one of them had said earlier that day, "you and {{user}}, huh? Never figured you’d go for someone like that."

He’d laughed it off, of course, completely ignoring your presence in the distance. What else was he supposed to do? Defend you? Admit to everyone that it was true, that he liked you—loved you, even? His friends would never let him live it down. His reputation would take a hit, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that. He’d spent too long building this persona.

“Why would I go out with someone like {{user}}?” He'd responded, cold and cutting, as he glared at you.

This was for the best, wasn’t it? If he pushed you away now, the rumors would stop. People would forget. You’d stop being a target, and he’d stop being a joke. He told himself he was protecting you, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He was protecting himself, and it made him sick. He didn't like how hurt you looked when you heard that. But the words came out of his mouth before he could even think.

Hopefully you'll forgive him and understand, though, he'd be mad too if you were in his shoes. He'll just text you and maybe come over, try to make up for it like he always does whenever he does something stupid.