Kieran's inner turmoil grew as he sat alone in the room he shared with Hardin. It wasn't the solitude that made him feel empty; it was the weight of haunting thoughts that plagued his mind. In just a matter of weeks, his father would return from the Philippines to Bangkok, and Kieran couldn't help but worry about the consequences.
How was his father doing now? And more importantly, how were Kieran and Hardin holding up? Kieran couldn't shake off the feeling that the truth would eventually come to light, as secrets have a way of unraveling. If his father were to discover that he was living in Hardin's apartment, Kieran feared the wrath and harm that awaited him. It felt as though he was trapped in an inescapable predicament, a scenario that seemed to offer no viable solution.
Kieran was aware that his father was already informed about his enrollment in university, with his mother telling him that Kieran was living in a condominium. His mother had made great efforts to shield him, but deep down, Kieran knew that it was only a matter of time before his father uncovered the truth.
As Ayne, Pharm, and Hardin entered the classroom that day, Kieran's absence weighed heavily on him. He sat alone, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm his racing thoughts. The last thing he wanted was for his father to develop animosity towards Hardin, especially if the reason behind it was Kieran's own secret. The fear of the potential consequences haunted him, leaving him feeling helpless and uncertain. I don't want dad to hate, Hardin, if the reason is me he whispered.
Kieran held himself tightly, tears streaming down his face in silent despair. The weight of his emotions constricted his chest as he contemplated a future where he and Hardin might be forced apart. The only option, should Hardin choose to stay, seemed to be Kieran sacrificing his own happiness for the sake of their peace, and the peace of those around them.
The thought of his father accepting their relationship felt like an insurmountable hurdle, and he couldn't fathom gaining tolerance or acceptance from those who lacked empathy. The words "tolerance" and "acceptance" seemed like distant dreams, leaving Kieran feeling utterly hopeless in his quest for understanding and validation.
Kieran yearned for a future filled with happiness and acceptance, but the obstacles he faced, such as his father's disapproval and the prevailing prejudice in society, had eroded his hope. As he contemplated the plight of LGBTQ+ individuals in countries where homosexuality and same-sex relationships were outlawed, his heart grew heavy with despair.
The relentless persecution in places like Chechnya, where individuals were subjected to torture, fatal beatings, and other gruesome acts of violence, served as a stark reminder of the inhumanity faced by the community.
Overwhelmed by his emotions, Kieran found himself silently shedding tears, plagued by the unanswerable question: Why was it so difficult for his father to accept and embrace him for who he truly was?
Kieran tenderly dried his tear-stained cheeks and stood up. He had made a decision to return to Saem Choi, his hometown, tomorrow. He hoped that if his father returned home, he would find him there and avoid any uncomfortable questions. But for now, at one o'clock in the afternoon, he needed to find a place to distract himself from his troubling thoughts. A plan began to take shape in his mind. He stepped out of the room and left the house, intending to dine at a renowned restaurant near the university and wait for Hardin to join him.
Twenty minutes had elapsed, and now Kieran stood at the entrance of the restaurant. A broad smile formed on his lips, but it quickly faded as he caught sight of something unexpected. His eyes softened at the corners, filled with mixed emotions. Why couldn't he move forward? He found himself rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from the scene before him. There, in front of him, stood Hardin, accompanied by a stunning woman. Kieran didn't recognize her, but he could see that Hardin appeared genuinely happy in her presence.
Kieran felt a tightness in his chest, a sensation that seemed to squeeze his heart with every beat. Why? Why did each pulse bring forth a pain that consumed his entire being in that moment?
His gaze fixated on Hardin gently wiping the forehead of the woman, a sight that crushed him from within. Tears welled up, falling one by one, as he struggled to accept the reality before him.
It couldn't be true, he thought, desperately denying what he saw. It felt as though his chest had been pierced tenfold, each stab piercing his soul. And yet, despite the agony, he remained rooted, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene unraveling before him. Why was it so hard to turn his back on them? Why did he find himself unable to walk away?
What if Hardin's claim of having a girlfriend wasn't a joke? What if the woman by Hardin's side was the one he referred to? Kieran's tears continued to flow unabated. With a heavy heart, he mustered the strength to turn his back, only to be met with the sound of their cheerful laughter. Every step he took felt slow and laborious. How many hours would it take to reach home? He felt a profound weakness, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. His heart bore a deep wound, draining him of all strength.
What Kieran needed at that moment was someone to lend him support. He wiped his tear-streaked cheeks with the back of his hands. Kieran felt a pang of guilt for hoping that Hardin would be the one to comfort him, knowing that Hardin was the cause of his tears.
As he walked, Kieran slouched forward, weighed down by his emotions. However, when he paused and straightened his posture, Kieran was taken aback. A mixture of shock and fear washed over his face and settled in his chest. Who wouldn't be afraid, especially if you see the person who often hurt you again.
It was Nuea again, and his five friends confronted Kieran, their gazes filled with hostility. Kieran couldn't help but wonder about their intentions. Did Nuea no longer want to have anything to do with him? What sinister scheme did Nuea have in mind this time? Despite the fear gnawing at his chest and the trembling of his body, Kieran managed to hide his emotions. He was already wounded by what he had discovered earlier, and now Nuea and his companions seemed intent on causing him more pain. Did Kieran deserve this torment? As he questioned his own existence, he couldn't help but wonder why death didn't seem like a more appealing option.
"We're just having a bit of fun bashing queers, aren't we?" Nuea sneered.
"Yeah, exactly!" the other guy chimed in. "They're the most repulsive creatures on Earth."
Kieran locked eyes with them, seeing nothing but pure hatred directed toward him and others like him. He mustered the courage to speak, his voice barely a whisper. "P'Nuea," he began.
"Oh? I've told you a thousand times, you'll never please me," Nuea retorted dismissively.
"Why is it so difficult for you to accept me? Why is it so hard for you and, Dad?" Kieran's voice trembled as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Do you know why? Because we are who we are. Kieran, please don't call him 'Dad.' You know he never treated you like a son," Neua sneered.
Kieran shook his head. "So you're saying God finds joy in my suffering or even my death? That doesn't sound like a merciful God, Neua."
They burst into laughter, a mocking sound. "And what about you, Kieran? Do you believe God shows no mercy to people like you?" the other person taunted, spitting in Kieran's face.
"Let's go," Neua muttered, his fist clenched. "Let's get out of here."
"Run," Nuea mumbled clenching his fist. “Run, run.”
Kieran didn't know what to do. How can he run if he loses his strength? If he runs he knows they will chase him. But when they came closer and surrounded him, he pushed a man behind him with all his strength because of the force of his push on the man, the man fell down.
Kieran seized the opportunity to escape, his determination propelling him forward, though he was forced to move cautiously. Their laughter echoed in his ears as he struggled to catch his breath. Suddenly, he halted and spun around, only to find that Nuea and his companions were hot on his heels.
With just a mere ten steps, a ball struck Kieran's back, thrown with great force. It felt as if he had plunged headfirst into concrete, but luckily, he shielded his face with his hands, preventing any potential scratches. He got scrapes on his hands. He didn't want to stand up anymore, especially since Kieran knew they were already surrounding him.
In a matter of moments, Kieran found himself being trampled by them. The pain of their kicks and punches reverberated through his entire body. Helpless and alone, he had no choice but to endure the agony.
Eventually, they ceased their assault, and the man whom Kieran had pushed earlier seized him by the collar. One blow struck Kieran's face, followed by two more in quick succession. His body went limp, and blood streamed from his battered face. Kieran coughed up blood, his breath labored. Then, another blow landed...
"Enough," Nuea scolded.
The man halted abruptly, his body tense and frustration evident on his face. He harbored an intense desire to strike Kieran. "You despicable person. I wish to deliver a blow that resonates with your actions. Why don't you consider making the world a better place and cease to exist? Just vanish, vanish!" He was the individual who had scorned Kieran when he was just eleven, claiming that being gay was a sickness.
"Enough, young man." Neua scolded again. "See you later. I have to walk him home.”
They made their way, moving further away from the scene. Nuea crouched down, extending a helping hand to assist Kieran in standing up. With a supportive gesture, Nuea wrapped his arm around Kieran. "Don't bother informing your father. Unfortunately, it seems he wouldn't give it any consideration anyway."
Nuea's observation held truth, knowing that Kieran's father's indifference would remain unchanged even if he were informed. They proceeded at a leisurely pace, Nuea displaying a tender demeanor as he accompanied Kieran on the journey back home. The only complication lay in Nuea's homophobic tendencies. Upon reaching their destination, Nuea guided Kieran indoors and gently laid him down on the extended sofa.
After about an hour, Kieran got up slowly even though his whole body hurt, and his wounds were painful. He slowly climbed up. When he reached the room he undressed and winced in pain. He let out a deep sigh when he successfully took off his shorts and shirt.
Kieran stepped into the bathroom, seeking solace in the cascading water that embraced his head and body. With closed eyes, he allowed the water, mingling with his tears and blood, to stream down his cheeks. Frustration overwhelmed him, and he unleashed his anger by striking the wall with a forceful punch. Numbness enveloped him, and he repeated the act, oblivious to the pain that should have seared through his fingers now stained with his own blood.
Yet, he found no intention of ceasing his assault on the unforgiving barrier. It was as if the pain he inflicted upon himself served as a desperate outlet for the torment that consumed his soul. Eventually, the violent outburst subsided, leaving him drained and broken. He sank to the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his trembling body, as he surrendered to heart-wrenching sobs that echoed through the empty room.
One phrase sank in his mind Senior will take care of Junior but where is Hardin now? Hardin had fun with a beautiful lady. Nothing was left for Kieran. The world has blown up to him. Poor Kieran, poor Kieran.