2. Betrayal

“Miller, why?” I choke on my tears, my voice trembling as I clutch the spot that stings—not just from the slap, but from the searing pain of betrayal.

“Don’t you know what we’ve been through together? Okay, you might have brought her into this house, but she is my destiny! And if you can’t bear to accept that, then get out of this house,” he declares, his voice sharp and resolute.

I stand frozen, each word cutting through me like a blade.

“You’re a lesbian, aren’t you?” my mother suddenly speaks, her tone venomous. “And you want to seduce your brother’s fiancée.”

My chest tightens. How did she know?

My eyes dart to Zoe, who stands smirking, her expression triumphant.

“Why?” I whisper, my voice cracking, but none of them seem moved by my tears.

“What? A lesbian?” Miller exclaims, disgust coloring his words. “That’s revolting!”

The brother who once cried on my shoulder after our dad’s death now grabs me roughly by my hair, dragging me out of the room.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I sob, my strength faltering. “Why won’t anyone accept me? Why can’t someone just love me?”

“Why?” is all I can manage, the word escaping in a broken whisper.

Miller doesn’t stop until we’re outside.

“Oh, come on, she’s still my friend,” Zoe says, her voice dripping with false concern. “Don’t be so wicked to her. She probably didn’t mean it that way.”

“She deserves this for hurting you,” Miller insists, his anger unwavering. “I can’t let her sleep in the same house as you tonight. Who knows what she could do out of jealousy?”

Their voices fade as they turn back into the house, leaving me alone in the dark. The rain begins to fall, cold and relentless, soaking me to the bone. I pound on the door, my fists aching, but no matter how loud I knock, no one answers.

The people who were supposed to protect me, to love me, have abandoned me.

Despair settles in my chest as I realize there’s nowhere else to go. The only shelter left is my dead dog’s house, but I know I won’t survive the night there—not from the cold or my asthma. I have to find somewhere else.

Stumbling through the rain-soaked streets, I eventually find myself at the queer club Zoe and I used to frequent.

Inside, the heat hits me like a wave, but it’s not enough to shake off the cold. I weave through the sweaty crowd, making my way to the bar.

“I want your strongest drink,” I say, my voice barely audible as I collapse onto a stool.

The bartender, a man with impeccable makeup and a vibrant wig that could rival any drag queen’s, gives me a once-over.

“How strong?” he asks, snapping his gum loudly.

“Strong enough to forget everything that happened today,” I reply, shivering violently.

He hums, blowing a bubble and letting it pop. “Got it. This one’ll do the trick, girl. Have a drink and hit the dance floor—you’ll forget all your sorrows.”

I nod weakly as he slides the drink toward me. Without hesitation, I gulp it down, the burn in my throat barely registering. The taste is strange, almost bitter, but I don’t care. I just want to feel something—anything—that isn’t pain.

By the time I slam the empty glass on the counter, the world around me has transformed. Colors swirl in vibrant hues, the lights dazzling me as they dance to the beat of the music.

“Hey, you need to pay up,” the bartender says, his voice cutting through my haze.

I turn to him, blinking slowly. “You’re an angel,” I coo, reaching for the iridescent wings I’m convinced are sprouting from his back.

“No, no. Not angel—money,” he says, frowning as he waves a hand in front of my face.

“Oh,” I drawl, fumbling for my purse, but it’s empty. Panic flickers briefly before I pull out my phone and thrust it toward him. “Take all the money!”

He shakes his head, frustrated. “Phone no work. You scam!”

I laugh, the euphoria drowning out his anger. “Sell it. I don’t care.”

The bartender signals for the bouncer just as the room tilts violently. I stumble, nearly falling, when a strong hand catches me.

“Hey, I’ll pay for her,” a deep voice says, firm but gentle.

I recoil from the touch, my vision blurry as I glance up at him. “Let go of me!” I shout, trying to free myself from his grasp.

“You’ll fall,” he says calmly, his grip steady. “The crowd’s moving this way—you’ll get trampled.” at first I'm irritated being held and touched by him but I eventually give in to the pull of his gaze. It's so steady and Unshaken and it draws me in in a way I can't resist.

His words barely register, but I stop struggling, too exhausted to fight.

He pays, and the next thing I know, I’m in his car.

“What… What am I doing here?” I ask groggily, fumbling with the seatbelt.

“Relax,” he says softly. “You wanted to leave the club. You told me about your girlfriend and your family. I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

“I said that?” I murmur, my head lolling against the seat.

“Yes,” he replies. “How else would I know her name is Zoe and that you love her more than life itself?”

That makes sense, I think even if I don’t remember ever saying that nodding drowsily.

“Where are we going?” I yawn, the words slurred.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he says, his tone soothing.

I don’t have the strength to argue. As my eyes flutter closed, I hear him mutter something I can’t quite make out before the darkness pulls me under like a cocoon.