Youngbin had been invisible to everyone but few his whole life. Then came last summer, and he was visible to those that got a kick out of observing the invisible. And then came Alex, and it was impossible to not be seen anymore. Something Youngbin knew would happen when he agreed to all of this. And when Alex was with him, it wasn’t that bad.

But when he wasn’t there? It was like being pushed on a stage without having glanced at the script once. And Alex wasn’t here today. He’d texted him ten minutes before class was starting, » robyn emergency so not gonna be at school today «.

This shouldn’t have been a problem, and at first Youngbin thought that maybe not walking around with Alex would reduce the stares he’d get. But what he hadn’t considered was that Alex was basically a shield for him. Maybe people were staring at him, but with his fake boyfriend by his side, at least nobody approached him. Because what idiot would dare to touch someone that was dear to Alex Hill?

That shield was dropped today, and Youngbin was left vulnerable again, this time with more weak points exposed than ever before. Of course people had used that opportunity already. He’d been tripped up, walked into, had pieces of paper thrown at him- Sure, these were common occasions, but today it was worse. It was a week’s worth of making his life hell stuffed into one day.

And Kaya had noticed this as well. After the lunch break, she wouldn’t leave Youngbin’s side anymore, she’d stand behind him at all times, follow him like a guard dog. Too bad nobody really took her seriously, and in the end there wasn’t anything for her to do except glare at anyone that’d come too close.

Now, on this school day that had been going on for way too long, there was one last hurdle left until Youngbin could return home and hide in the comfort of his own room. He leaned against the cold stone wall next to the large doors to the atrium, patiently waiting for his theatre teacher to come to the rescue and open them up for the class. Kaya had positioned herself in front of him, towering over him the same way Alex did, almost like a human shield protecting him from the sight of the passing students.

Theatre class was usually the highlight of Youngbin’s week. Every thursday afternoon, when most regular classes had come to an end, Youngbin would stand right here next to the atrium and wait for Mister William Davis, a man shorter than some of the youngest students here, as passionate about music as one can be, well meaning, yet painfully oldschool.

To Youngbin’s dismay though, Mister Davis had undergone surgery two or three weeks ago, and thus, theatre class was cancelled. The old man had returned back to school today, and theoretically Youngbin had been waiting for this day since the moment he had read the cancellation notice, but- Well, this day had been draining, exhausting, and it felt like this class wouldn’t give him much joy today.

His heart hurt. He hated this, hated when things that were supposed to be great were ruined because he wasn’t in the mood, wasn’t functioning right. He easily let his passions be soured by just being too exhausted.

“You know, you can just go home. I’ll tell Mister Davis you’re feeling unwell.” As though Kaya had read his mind, she frowned at Youngbin, crossing her arms.

“I can’t just go home and skip school.”

“You’re not skipping. You’re going home because you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m not sick though.”

“In the head you are.”

“Wow.” Youngbin furrowed his brows, though appreciative of his best friend’s worry. “I’ve just had a bad day, not spiralling into clinical depression. I don’t need to go home because of that.”

“You have that face though.” Kaya leaned in a bit closer to Youngbin, examining his expression. She always knew what he was feeling by looking him into the eyes. And then she learned things about Youngbin’s mood that even he didn’t know. “That ‘If one more person talks to me, I might as well break down’ face.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Kaya pressed her lips together. She’d banned Youngbin from school many times before, sending him home when he was having a bad day. Part of Youngbin appreciated it, was glad that she cared, took him seriously, took his mental health seriously. But the other, much larger part of Youngbin just felt guilty.

He was taught to push through. If he was physically sick, and possibly a danger to other students, he’d skip school. Having a bad day was no reason to fall behind on school though. Being tripped up on the stairs and having a pencil hurled at him were no reason to skip the only part of school that Youngbin enjoyed.

Youngbin dodged Kaya’s stare by looking to his feet, and she let out a sigh before leaning on the wall next to him. He could feel disappointment radiating from her.

“I don’t like this,” she then said, her voice lowered, side eyeing the other theatre class students that slowly took their spots around the atrium entrance, many of them throwing stolen glances at Youngbin.

“You think I do?”

Kaya sighed, then inhaled, then hesitated as if to arrange the correct words in her head first.

“I honestly… feel like maybe this wasn’t… you know, the right time to… I don’t know how to phrase this without-”

“Hey, Lee!” Kaya was cut off by the scratchy voice coming from a pair of thin lips plastered on a pink face. With his hands in his pockets, Leo took long slow steps through the hallway, slowing them down further as he passed the two friends. Youngbin instinctively lowered his head, like he’d done plenty of times today. “What’s it like sucking Alex’ cock?”

There were quite a few moments in Youngbin’s life where he had wanted to die, and this was one of those moments, except this time, he had an equally strong desire to drag Leo Harris with him into hell. But it was easiest to say nothing. Like every time, no matter how much a scream was hammering inside of his chest, begging to be let out.

“Hey, what the hell do you think gives you the right to talk to him like this?” Where Youngbin could hold back, Kaya couldn’t. “Who do you think you are?”

“Ugh, you’re annoying.” Leo spit on the floor, uncomfortably close to Kaya’s shoes.

“Is that all you can say? Is answering me too hard for your pea brain to comprehend?”

“Nobody likes you, Rivers. Go talk to your fag friend.” He spit on the floor again, louder this time, then picked up the pace as he continued to stroll down the hallway.

“Wow! You’ve got the quick-wittedness of a ten year old, asshole!” Kaya groaned, moved her feet back from the two puddles of spit.

She rarely did this. Speaking out, getting loud, defending Youngbin and herself. She’d learned to stay quiet and avoid trouble, just like Youngbin, but unlike him, she still had some sense of self worth, of dignity, and sometimes it’d just come out. And at times, he was thankful for that. This time he wasn’t really.

He could feel the eyes on him. Like spears piercing him from all sides. He heard a whisper, or at least he thought he did. Did someone say his name? Alex’ name? If only Kaya had been quiet, had ignored Leo the way she’d always do. Maybe then people wouldn’t stare. Maybe then it’d be easier to breathe.

Youngbin didn’t look up when a familiar voice greeted him and the students around him. He knew Mister Davis’ old rough voice, and he was glad to hear it, but he didn’t dare to look up and endure all these eyes on him.

“Excuse my belatedness,” the old man said as he unlocked the door to the atrium. “There is plenty to do today and I do not intend to waste a single second.”

He then went on to waste many seconds, hurrying towards the school’s stage with his briefcase clamped under his arm, sitting down on the usual chair he always occupied, and starting to dig through dozens of loose papers he stored in his bag.

Mister Davis was always the same. Every Thursday afternoon was the same. Theatre class was the same. Youngbin’s chest felt a little lighter as he stepped into this familiar place, the atrium with its high ceiling, maroon seats, and the stage at the very back of the room. Everything was the same, and that brought him a little bit of peace.

The atrium of Sirius Miller High School was certainly a highlight. It had been renovated two years ago with the prize money that the school choir had brought back from a competition about four years ago. And though the town of Rosebury had a theatre closer to the city centre, it was in the midst of renovations itself, ever since the Miller High atrium was done.

This place had quite a big capacity. Miller High was the biggest school in town after all, and the one with the most budget, or rather the most willingness to spend said budget on the arts. Aside from the theatre club, there was an (award winning) school choir, a school band, a painting club that held a themed charity exhibition every year with moderately big success, a cheerleading club (despite the school being unable to fill their regular sports team), and a relatively new K-pop cover dance club that had formed sometime early this summer by a couple of freshmen.

Miller High had everything an artistically gifted kid could wish for. Except for maybe healthy relationships with the other student and a mental health counsellor. Both of which Youngbin seriously needed.

Youngbin walked up to the one seat he’d always be sat at, second row, slightly off centre, more to the left. A seat from which he’d always be able to see Mister Davis once he’d climb onto the stage to start the lesson, yet wouldn’t be deadcenter. And Kaya sat next to him, to the right, like she always did.

The two sank further into the surprisingly soft seats at the same time. Mister Davis was still digging through his bag, and it’d take a little while for him to find today's plans, a structured timetable that he’d always write down in detail yet lose in the midst of his million other structured timetables.

“Sorry about Leo just now,” Kaya murmured.

“All good. I’d just prefer if you- Didn’t try to provoke him?”

“Well, you see-” She furrowed her brows, blowing a stray stand of coily hair out of her face. “I get that ‘don’t react’ approach but I feel like- I’m sick of this guy trampling all over you. Ignoring him is obviously not going to help. It never has. And now, because of Alex, everything’s gonna get worse.”

“You know it’s not Alex’ fault that I’m-” Ah, yes. The block again. That thing in his head that prevented him from saying the word. Luckily, he didn’t have to say much more for Kaya to understand.

“It’s not his fault that you’re gay, but it is his fault that you’re out to the whole school now.”

“That’s not anyone’s fault,” Youngbin almost hissed, and maybe he sounded a little too agitated, but it didn’t seem to bother Kaya much, “but it was my decision.”

Technically, Alex was the reason Youngbin was out. But it wasn’t his fault. Alex had proposed an idea, and Youngbin had agreed, on his own volition. If this was anyone’s fault, it was Youngbin’s for agreeing. And perhaps he had agreed a little too fast.

“You don’t need to protect him, you know. I don’t like this guy. And it’s not like he cares about that.”

Surprisingly enough, Alex did kind of care about that, at least that’s what it had seemed like so far. Because Alex actually cared about a lot more than he looked like. But Youngbin wouldn’t say that. He wasn’t going to say anything, actually. He didn’t quite feel like it, discussing this topic further with Kaya. And she knew. So, she gave up, leaned back in her seat, pulled out her phone to aimlessly stare at the clock on its display.

In the two seats in front of them, a boy had settled. Youngbin didn’t know him by name, he didn’t usually talk much, would usually take over tech and lighting in the theatre club. He never sat in the seat in front of Youngbin. Someone else did, usually. So why was he there?

He kept turning his head slightly, never fully facing Youngbin, just throwing a quick glance at him every now and then. Youngbin saw this, and ignored it. As always. But after a minute of half turning his head, he’d finally twist around fully.

“Sorry,” he said, and Youngbin realised that he had never heard this boy’s voice before, “but do you want to be a girl?”

“...What?”

“Are you a boy that’s actually a girl?”

“Are you-” Youngbin blinked at the boy, then looked around him to make sure he was actually the one being talked with. “Are you asking me if I’m trans?”

“Yeah. Because I heard that you kissed Alex Hill. Someone said that you might be a girl now.” The boy said this with a completely straight face, like he’d hear this every day. ‘Someone said’. So the rumours had started. Fantastic.

“Who said that?”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. Someone in my chemistry class. Or math. I don’t know. Are you a girl now, or…?”

“I’m- No? I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

“Why’d you kiss Alex, then?”

“Because-” A part of Youngbin was filled with anxiety. This was his confirmation that he was being gossiped about. Right here, right now. Another part was almost amused about the fact that this random boy would rather assume Youngbin was a girl instead of even toying with the idea of two men kissing.

“People are gay, my guy,” Kaya answered for him. “They kiss because they’re boyfriends.”

The boy blinked, slowly, looked at Youngbin, then at Kaya, then at Youngbin again. Something in his brain seemed to rattle. Then, he nodded.

“Okay. That’s cool. I didn’t know Alex kissed boys.” Neither did Youngbin, up until exactly a week ago. “That’s totally fine though. It’s also fine if you were a girl, by the way.”

“Th-Thanks?” Youngbin squinted as the boy got up from his seat without another word, walking over to his small friend group at the far right side of the room instead, who all seemed to excitedly await a report, though he just shrugged as he sat down. At least the guy wasn’t being homophobic. Or transphobic, for that matter.

As though she had waited for the boy to leave her seat, another girl now sat down in the row in front of Youngbin and Kaya. She always sat there. Her name was Wanda, she played Juliet in last year’s play. She’d been pretty nice to him during the last school year, the two had even met up once or twice to practise together. Youngbin knew that her parents had an ungodly amount of money, her stepfather was a German lawyer with a “Von” in his last name, so clearly he was a big deal.

Maybe that lawyer father thing had protected her a little from the ridicule that Youngbin had to endure after the play. She wasn’t completely spared, and Youngbin couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. And it probably was, because Wanda hadn’t talked to him ever since the play, just looked at him weird plenty of times. Like she was doing today. Weirder than usual.

It wasn’t subtle. She kept turning around, fully turning her body towards Youngbin, looking at him, then turning back again. She was talking to her friend, another girl that always sat down next to her, though Youngbin couldn’t hear what they were saying. He much preferred the side eyeing from the boy that had sat there before her.

But, Youngbin tried to ignore it. He tried to not listen in on the whispers coming from in front of him, tried to evade the look Wanda gave him every ten seconds. As always. That’d always be the strategy.

Ignoring worked for another minute, until Mister Davis finally climbed up the small flight of stairs to the stage, waddling to the centre with some crumpled pieces of paper in hands. No more staring. Class was starting, after a little while too long.

“I apologise for my absence in the last few weeks,” he exclaimed, and most students would stop their chattering now. “I hope you used this free time to thoroughly study the roles and scripts and begin to brainstorm for this year's play. If I may say so myself, I am quite excited to see how you will give this classic tale a unique- but hopefully appropriate- twist.”

‘Appropriate’ was a broad term. To Mister Davis especially, who wouldn’t even deem an onstage kiss between two 18 year olds appropriate.

“Now, for Midsummer Night’s Dream we have a plethora of roles of, well, equal importance. I would like to begin the assignment of roles in the coming weeks, so that we can use the winter to further work on our scripts and-”

Youngbin did not zone out. He was giving his very best to look at Mister Davis pacing on stage, waving his papers, explaining away. It was just that what he was saying got lost within whispers coming from right in front of Youngbin. And finally, Wanda turned around, this time for longer than just a second or two. And instead, she stared Youngbin down until he’d react. Raising his eyebrows, he leaned forward a little.

“Are you gay?”

Of course that’s the thing she’d ask, her voice lowered. Youngbin hesitated, then nodded, and Wanda’s face twisted slightly.

“We literally kissed, though.”

“We- no, that was a stage kiss. We didn’t actually-”

“I can’t believe this. That’s kind of gross.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t have a problem with gay people but I don’t really wanna kiss them.”

“Well- I mean they don’t really want to kiss you either, so-” Wanda smacked her lips at that remark, rapidly turning around again as if she was so offended by the knowledge that men not attracted to women didn’t want to kiss women. Youngbin blinked, then leaned back again, before Wanda turned around one last time to whisper, more aggressively this time:

“I never actually thought you were hot, by the way, so don’t think that.”

“Why the hell would I think tha-” Youngbin couldn’t finish his question when his classmate’s back was already once again facing him. She whispered something to her friend, who then glanced at Youngbin with murder on her mind. The only response Youngbin could think to give was a shrug, then he shot a look over to Kaya, who had watched the debacle with an amused, yet slightly confused grin on her face.

“What?” Youngbin could only whisper, and Kaya answered with a vague gesture that really could’ve meant anything.

Mister Davis had talked, and talked, and talked, and Youngbin had really tried so hard to follow him the whole time. And yet, he needed instructions from Kaya on what the hell he was supposed to do once the old man had stopped talking.

And what followed for the whole lesson was one of Youngbin’s less liked parts of getting ready for a school play. Looking through scripts, dialogues, scenes, and brainstorming what the students could change to make it more quirky and fun and embarrassing to perform in front of other students.

It wasn’t like he didn’t kind of enjoy altering classics to be more unique, it was just that ‘workshopping ideas in small groups and presenting it to the group later’ was a tough approach, because all ideas were completely different and hardly compatible with each other. It was such a difficult process to try and satisfy everyone.

As always, Youngbin would simply share ideas with Kaya, so arbitrary and vague that nobody would really disagree, and then Kaya would nod, and try to listen to what other groups were discussing, and then simply repeat that. Both knew that the ideas they’d actually like wouldn’t go very far, and so they had stopped actually trying to propose anything meaningful.

Their strategy worked, as it always did, and when Kaya presented their results, including but not limited to “We could make costumes that reflect current fashion trends” and “Maybe we can sing a well known pop song”, they were met with nodding and half hearted agreements. Fantastic. The two had done their work and could let the rest figure out the specifics.

In a few weeks, they’d start casting the roles, and then finally they’d get to the interesting stuff. Except that this time, Youngbin wasn’t quite sure if he was going for a role at all. He had hoped that he wouldn’t have to think about this problem for another while, but of course hoping to run from your problems will always make you run directly into them.

The lesson had concluded, and Kaya stretched in her seat, sinking deeper into it when most other students had already fled the scene. She sighed, her eyes looking like they were about to fall shut forever.

“Who decided that the latest afternoon classes should take place in the school’s cosiest chairs?” She wiggled a bit, and actually closed her eyes for a second. “One day I want to break in here and have a sleepover.”

“You’re gonna have that sleepover without me.” Youngbin stood up, stretching as well before grabbing his bag and trying to figure out how to squeeze past Kaya. “I’d rather not stay here any longer than I have to.”

“That’s news to me.” Kaya continued to not move, and Youngbin decided to simply climb over her legs. “You love chatting up teachers after class.”

“I don’t love doing that, I do it to make sure I’m not falling behind and can do tasks for extra credit in case I-”

“Mister Lee, may I have a quick chat with you?”

“Don’t stay any longer than you have to,” Kaya murmured as Mister Davis called out, and only now she pulled her legs to herself so that Youngbin could walk out easier. “See you tomorrow.”

Youngbin just sighed, threw his bag over his shoulder and nodded to Mister Davis, who had sat down at his usual seat to stuff all of his well thought out (and later ignored) plans into his briefcase.

“Can I help?” Youngbin stood up straight before his teacher, and anxiety started to creep up into his chest. Chances were he knew- No, why would a teacher care much about his students relationships, or sexuality…?Well, there were enough teachers that did care a little too much about their students' private lives. And he had heard of cases where children were outed to their parents by their teachers.

But Mister Davis wasn’t like that, right? Even if he wasn’t, there were still chances that teachers worried about who Youngbin was dating. Perhaps he was worried, or was going to warn Youngbin of Alex’ bad influence on him, or-

“I’d be willing to promise you a larger role again this year.” Mister Davis had lowered his voice, looking around to make sure no students were around anymore. “You wouldn’t have to audition, if there’s a role you’d be particularly interested in I can make sure you get that.”

Youngbin blinked at him, processed for a while. This wasn’t what he expected, it wasn’t even close to any conversation that he had made up in his head prior.

“In all honesty,” Mister Davis continued, “I had already envisioned you as Lysander. Though, of course, you may choose whichever role you please. I have received many compliments last year, you’ve been praised to the heavens.”

Praised? How curious that Youngbin barely saw any of that praise. If anything, it was the exact opposite.

“We do invite members of the Rosebury Cultural and Artistic Committee to the play every year, and with this being your last year, Mister Lee, you might be given some excellent opportunities for your career after school.”

Youngbin cleared his throat in an attempt to remove the lump that had formed there. ‘Excellent’ may have been an overstatement, but the thought of being watched by people who knew what they had to look for, who had already praised him it seemed like-

If only it was only those people that watched him. If only it was only some committee that came to watch Youngbin perform. But it wasn’t just them.

He saw himself again, filmed from multiple angles, multiple phones, but the same scene, over and over again. He saw himself perform, kiss someone, fall on his knees, weep and die on stage, and along with that he saw captions and comments and edits.

Youngbin saw that performance he was so proud of in front of his inner eyes again, and wasn’t so proud anymore. Unflattering pictures taken of him mid performance, clips of him with added music ridiculing him, his role, his lines.

The truth was, Youngbin hated seeing himself, and seeing himself be made fun of for doing something he was passionate about was even worse.

So, Youngbin inhaled, and without truly being able to control what was coming out of his mouth, he said: “I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flickered in Mister Davis' eyes. “That’s- How come? You’ve done a fantastic job last time.”

“I- It wasn’t a very good experience for me. I’ve been made fun of a lot, and I think it took the passion away from me.” Youngbin didn’t mean to say this. He didn’t mean to open up at all, but here he was, in the empty atrium, saying what he had been dragging behind him since last summer. These people had taken the joy out of acting.

“Made fun of you? I’ve only heard good feedback from parents, teachers, everyone I spoke to that attended the play-”

“I was recorded by some students, actually. And it was shared around, and-”

“But recording during the performance wasn’t allowed. We had explicitly said so at the beginning.”

“That’s-” Youngbin inhaled, holding his breath for a second. He bit his lower lip as he suppressed a sigh. “It doesn’t really matter if it’s allowed or not, people still did it. I’ve been- I haven’t- I just don’t want this to happen again. So, I’m genuinely sorry to disappoint you, Mister Davis, I don’t think I’m willing to take a larger role again this year. I’d prefer to stay behind the scenes as much as possible.”

The old man looked at Youngbin, his face bewildered, as though the thought of teenagers making fun of someone was the most impossible thing he had ever heard. Then, he pressed his thin lips together and slowly nodded.

“I wasn’t aware of any of this happening. I respect your wishes, but I’m hoping that you may change your mind soon. Just let me know anytime. And-” Now he smiled, but rather tiredly. “Remember, it doesn’t matter what other people say or think of you. You’re a very talented young man, so ignore anyone who may say otherwise. You may go home now.”

Youngbin gave his teacher a quick nod, then, with fast steps, got out of the atrium. He’d been here for a little too long.

Ignore anyone who says otherwise. Youngbin huffed, felt a strange and rather unfamiliar burn within his chest. It doesn’t matter what anyone says, of course. It was so easy to say that.

How had Mister Davis not noticed? How hadn’t anyone noticed what was going on? How on earth was Youngbin being pushed around for months and nobody had picked it up, and if they did, why hadn’t anyone done anything about it?

It doesn’t matter what other people say or think of you. Youngbin had never felt so lied to.

Chapter 7 - stage fright

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