If it's not too much to ask for, I really just want to know how you guys deal with the loss of a really close relative. I so need to hear it. If you're just as clueless as I am, well, do enjoy the chapter. I'm still so grateful.

Chapter 41 - Coming Out.

Oliver

The three hour drive back home was smooth and surprisingly not three hours. We arrived faster than that. The road had been quite free and the cab driver was as skillful as they come, driving smoothly but speedily and steadily, I almost fell asleep at the back seat. That was how good he was.

Or maybe it was just because I'd been crying so much and that exhaustion after crying had come for me and caused me to fall asleep.

I'd given him the address and everything he needed so he didn't need to talk to me. He just observed my mood and turned on soft piano music which made sleeping an alluring hot cup of tea. It wasn't until he entered my street that I became fully agile, eager to get down and take a warm shower in my bathroom.

How much I'd missed my bathroom.

When he pulled up in front of our porch, mum was already waiting expectantly. She shot up from the chair and approached me as I opened the car door and got down.

Settling the kind driver and even possibly giving him a tip- because she was effortlessly generous- I stood beside her as they completed the transaction and she waved him goodbye just before he drove off and away from our house, into the street.

"Darling, what's wrong?" She took my hand in hers and started pulling me inside with her.

"I'm fine, mum," I replied dismissively.

She snorted, voicing disapproval. She was about to make a few points to reinforce her argument before I swiftly added.

"Okay, maybe not totally fine, but it's nothing to be afraid of. I just missed home and I decided to come back. Isn't that the reason you wanted me to go to Denberg University? So I could come back whenever I felt like it?" I smartly avoided further questions by making her the subject of the discussion, throwing questions at her instead.

"Yes, but I thought you would want to spend your birthday with your best friend, Jessica, and some of your new friends in school. You know, Mason, the CEO's niece, and that other beautiful foreign boy, what's his name?" She snapped her fingers, attempting to remember.

"Kevin," I helped her out.

"Yes, Kevin!" She exclaimed and snapped her fingers again.

"Well, I want to spend it with family, I guess," I shrugged as she opened the door for us to get in.

It was already dark now and without having to check the time, I could tell it was something past seven. I could easily tell because I kept checking my phone throughout the drive back. It was stupid of me but I was somewhat hoping that Jess or Mason would text me, sounding all worried. I never received that kind of text, however.

I needed to refresh and change into comfortable clothes, and also get some chocolate into my system because I was greatly lacking the nourishment of ground cacao seeds.

"Go up to your room, freshen up and be down for dinner. It's almost done," she announced, closing the door behind her.

"Yeah, that's definitely what I need now," I sighed, pulling at the straps of my bag and adjusting it on my back.

Truly, it was impossible for me to forget what my house for as long as I could remember looked like, but it seemed kind of new and somewhat alien to me. Maybe it was because a lot of changes and improvements had been made.

The entire furniture was all changed, so was the TV- it was a new one, a whole lot bigger than the other one that was wall placed in the living room- the flooring was redone, and there were more lights. The smell of my mum's cooking wafted through the air and got deep into my nose, giving me that wholesome homey scent and wrapping me in warm tendrils of safety.

I needed that sense of safety, most especially, now. I needed to forget about a whole lot of things weighing on my heart. The setting of the living room made it seem more spacious than before. Generally, I was impressed and glad to be home.

"Don't waste much time up in your room so the food doesn't get cold as we'll all be eating together," mum announced, making her way to the dining room to finish setting the table for us.

"'We'll all'?" I repeated, quoting my mum and looking around, a bit confused.

"Oh, yeah, your dad is around. He came back on Monday," mum related, clearing my confusion.

"Holy shit, dad is around?" I softly exclaimed, widening my eyes at the back of her head as I watched her walk over to the kitchen.

"Young man," she half chided from above her shoulders.

"Sorry, I meant, goodness dad is around?" I reworded my sentence for two reasons, one of them being that I didn't want mum to think I was picking up only bad behaviour in school.

And the second reason was one that had been standing even before I was born. My mum despised vulgar language, you most definitely could not use that in her household.

"Yes, he is. Now go freshen up and be down in ten. Fifteen, at most."

"Sure," I replied inaudibly while being rooted in the same spot.

Taking another astute glance around the living room, I took a deep, loud breath, taking in the scent of mum's cooking and the smell of home once again, before racing up the remaining stairs to my room.

* * *

I'd spent more time than I was supposed to in the bathroom, mum had to come get me. Well, of course she expected me to waste time in the bathroom, I expected myself to waste time in the bathroom, as well. Luckily, she'd come when I was putting on some house clothes so she reserved her lecture for another time. She kept emphasising on how long it took me to get ready, even when I wasn't even going anywhere.

What could I say? I loved taking good care of my body.

Heading down some minutes after she'd left my room, I was a bit fretful. I wasn't prepared to face my dad, let alone eat dinner with him. We hadn't spoken in, like, so long, so forcing an act to be all cool and friendly with him at dinner was the part I dreaded. I couldn't force it, but he so easily could.

Contrary to me, he could always act like the father-son bond between us exists by throwing meaningless questions at me when, frankly, we both knew that it didn't. He hadn't called me in so long, he'd been too busy with business trips all over the country, and even outside the country, and now he would want to catch up and make up for not talking to me for months in only half an hour.

Shameful.

Dinner probably wasn't going to be quiet or peaceful like I thought it would. I intensely wished he wasn't around and it was just mum and I.

Getting down to the dining room, he was already seated on his chair at the head of the table, mum was seated beside him on his right and another plate was on his left hand side which meant that was where I was required to sit.

Of course. Wherever dad sat automatically became the head of the table.

Letting out a muffled sigh, I shrugged my feet and approached the table, quietly pulling out the heavy wooden chair and taking a seat. Dad was absorbed in his phone but when I arrived, he put it away and started grinning widely at the both of us.

"My son," he cheered softly, beaming at me, "How've you been, Oliver?"

"Just good," I voiced a straight, blunt reply, picked up my cutlery and dug into my food. Hoping to use a full mouth as an excuse to avoid most of his questions, I started stuffing my face and they started eating, as well.

"How has school been?" He asked.

"Mhmm," I simply hummed, nodding my head before forcing out a dry, "Good."

"You like it at Denberg, don't you?" He'd started eating, too, but the questions kept flying.

From my perspective, he actually didn't care about the answers to these questions. To him, it was just like a routine he felt obligated to carry out. Something he felt he had to do as a father. There was no passion or affection to it, I could tell. I can tell. It was just empty, sallow, and feigned, if not forced.

"I do," I agreed, still eating.

"Your mother likes it so of course you should, too. You both are like mother and daughter," he stated absentmindedly, chuckling and cutting his meat.

That made me forcefully suck air in and hold it in for so long that I nearly choked, going for the fresh fruit drink on the table and taking a huge gulp out of it. I had no idea why that happened, my mum glanced at me with a confused frown before going back to her food. She just sat there, silently, watching me get battered with questions and fake concern.

It had never occurred to me before, but if I was ever going to come out to my family, this seemed like the perfect time to do so. Most especially now that I'd gotten some kind of educational talk from Mako and the expert, Damian, himself.

Nursing this idea in my head for less than a minute, I indifferently whisked it away. I wasn't sure I was ready. And even if I was ready to come out, I would definitely come out to mum first before telling dad. Albeit he didn't care much about me, I was apprehensive of how he would react to the news.

"Look at my family," dad stopped eating and looked up, gleaming. I peered at him from my peripheral vision because I couldn't look directly at him. "Eating together," he finished, reaching across and taking a hold of my mum's free hand on the table. The second I saw that, I brought my other hand down so he wouldn't take it. The cringe. "How much I've missed you guys," he finished, visibly giving my mum's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and concentrating on his food.

Then me, shortly.

"So tell me about Denberg, Olly?" He turned to me again and opened his big book of irrelevant questions again. How authentic.

"It's fine. Classes, school, back, repeat," I stated dryly.

"Really?" He sounded shocked before letting out a throaty laugh. "You need to make the best of your university years or, I promise you, you'll miss them. I was an active football player for my school team on my very first week of resumption. I was one of the treasures of my school club because I was a great defender, a ferocious attacker, and an impeccable goalkeeper," he boasted and it took everything in me to not snort.

Thankfully, he hadn't gone deep into the bragging game so I was relieved. He was quite good at it, I must mention.

"What about those drawing clubs? You've not joined any drawing clubs yet?" He asked, blatantly clueless.

"I don't draw, dad," I objected with a demeaningly calm voice.

"But the picture thing. What is it you do with pictures then?" He sputtered.

"I take photos of landscapes I find interesting," I clarified with that same flat tone. It slightly provoked me that he remained unfazed by my tone. Hell, he didn't even notice that I was trying my best to not talk to him.

"Oh, yes," he voiced a short chuckle. "I should buy you a new camera."

"Yeah, you should. Mum needs a new camera, anyway," I subtly sassed him, but again, he didn't even notice.

He always bought low quality cameras, the kind I absolutely did not like. I hadn't told him about the kind I wanted, anyway. Making requests from my dad was on a whole new level of difficulty so I completely refrained from that. On that note, my mum had over four cameras now. The one she brought to my matriculation ceremony was just one out of the many.

"How about the girls at Denberg? Chicks, as we used to call them in my day," he brought up yet another topic.

This was clearly the worst one so far, and him bringing it up now- when my tolerance and patience were both about to exceed their elastic limit and tear apart- was quite dangerous. I ignored the question.

"You know, I met your mum early in university. She used to be my fan," he bragged yet again and giggled.

"Used to," I quietly pointed out and continued eating.

"Yeah. So any girls you like yet?" He asked again and I remained silent. "Come on now, you know you can talk to me," he urged, sipping from his drink.

"Oh, can I?" I threw my fork roughly into my plate, making it clink loudly, and I turned to him.

"Yeah, sure, of course. We don't always talk but be rest assured that you can, always," he confirmed, looking back at me with his own soft, empty eyes.

"Oh, I didn't know that," I cooed sarcastically. "Well, since I can, this is the best time to tell you guys." I cleared my throat and leaned back. "There are no girls or chicks," I mimicked his awful attempt to sound young, "Because, mum, dad, I'm gay," I announced at once, making sure to hold my dad's gaze.

His eyelids flickered at inhuman speed for a few seconds. During this period of time, the dining room was overcome by absolute silence. My dad burst into a fit of nervous laughter a few seconds later, taking his eyes to my mum before bringing them back to me.

"I-you... son," he stammered, successfully reacting exactly how I expected him to; dumb, stupid, and nonchalantly.

"Honey," my mum started, looking at me with understanding eyes, "Why did you have to say it like that, like it's some burden you've been carrying around? Why do you sound so scared? And why on earth is that tenseness stitched into your tone? It's not like I didn't know," she finished, a brilliant smile gracing her facial features.

Smiling back at her, I hadn't really paid attention to everything she'd said. It was a little later that I registered the last sentence she made.

"What?" I jutted my head, my mouth falling open.

She was about to answer when my dad chimed in and stopped her.

"Oh, come on, son. Stop toying with us, kid," he joked, idly putting food in his mouth.

"Bloody hell," I blurted, releasing a sigh coated with frustration and leaning back into my chair.

"Oliver," mum mildly cautioned, adding a stern look to her eyes.

"I'm sorry but, really dad?" I turned to him and cocked my head to the side.

"Yes, really," he let out a quick titter. "You're playing with us, there's no way you're gay, this is a joke," he continued laughing idly, disregarding the way I'd mustered all the courage in the freaking world to come out to the both of them at once.

The way he neglected my sincerity and transparency with them hurt me more than the fact he actually thought I was joking about being gay.

"This is a joke?" I repeated, sharpening my gaze at him. "Does it sound like I'm joking?" I added with a flat tone, a straight face, and more than just a hint of annoyance and irritation.

"It-It's not a joke?" He chortled gawkily, placing his cup back on the table instead of taking a drink like he intended to.

"Does this strike you as a topic to be joked with? Really though, does it?" I shot back, squeezing my hand into a very tight fist under the table.

That was the only way I could control my temper at this moment. I'd already lost my cool once today, I didn't want to lose it again. Not here, not at my dad, and definitely not in front of my mum. She doesn't deserve that.

His fixed gaze on me darkened a bit and the goofy expression fell from his facial features, leaving a blank stare which proved he wasn't liking my tone much but I couldn't manage to care. He'd already taunted me enough with his overly feigned ignorance.

"But the chicks?" He said after a while of just staring and that was the last effort needed to tip the table, I lost it.

"Oh, for the love of God! There are no fucking chicks, goddamn it!" I snapped, banging my hands which were folded into fists on the dining table.

"Oliver! Mind your language and your tone!" My mum chided instantly, glaring at me. "Darling," she added and turned to her husband whom I couldn't believe was actually my father.

"Sorry, it's just..." I swallowed the rest of my sentence.

"Direct that apology to the appropriate destination," she flashed me a fleeting glance before taking a hold of my dad's hand.

"No, it's fine," he sighed, taking a drink from his cup this time, sighing again and blinking at his plate of food.

"Our son just came out to us. That's not the ideal way to address the matter, don't you think?" She used a soft, soothing voice on him whilst stroking his hand.

"I know, that was asinine of me. I just..." he trailed off, softly withdrawing his hand from my mum's and rubbing the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes simultaneously.

"It's not a terrible thing to be gay. It's not a horrible thing that our son is gay. He's still our son," she continued persuading him with a soft voice and at that moment I got scared of how he might react to this when he was eventually done with his goofy façade.

"Of course he is. I'm not doubting that at all, it's just-" he was about to add something in opposition to the first half of his statement but mum didn't let him.

There was no room for buts in this situation. They would only lead to more buts and eventually more problems for our family.

"Bonnie's sons are both gay," she mentioned unexpectedly and my dad abandoned the rest of his statement and turned to her with wide, shocked eyes.

"Your sister?"

"Uh-huh," she chuckled, putting food in her mouth.

"Even the Spaniard she adopted sometime ago?" He wondered.

"Yes. Both her sons are," she asserted, peering at him from the side of her eyes.

"That's a surprise," he awed, shifting his gaze from my mum to stare blankly at his food once again.

I just sat still wondering what was actually going on right now. My dad was just making fun of me being gay some minutes ago but now he was surprised about my aunty's sons both being gay. My mum had done a good job changing the topic, and I wasn't sure if that was in my favour or not, because I really needed to know his stand in all of this.

"I mean, Dylan was quite obvious from the start, a little more obvious than our Olly here. Jaxton wasn't that obvious, but I can assure you he's insanely adorable. I'm glad we got to visit them before they went off to college," said mum, cutting her meat.

My dad remained silent for a while and so did everyone else at the table. During this period, he just stared at his food while I stared at the side of his head, waiting- at the edge of my seat- for his next statement.

"It's just, I never thought Oliver was. You said you knew, but I didn't. I didn't even have the littlest clue," he admitted, looking from mum to me.

"You've been absent for almost all my life," I kindly reminded him just in case he had forgotten.

"Oliver," my mum muttered my name, getting my attention, she tilted her head to the side. "There's no room for overstatements here. And he's trying. "

Before I could rethink that, I released a scoff and rolled my eyes at what she'd said.

"It's okay," he stopped her before she could say anything else. "He's not completely wrong, I've not really been around to find out for myself just like you have."

"But he understands. We understand," my mum chipped in and I just shook my head at her.

"No, I don't. I really don't," I disagreed.

They both released audible sighs like I was a great source of frustration for them. Well, I was their child, anyway, so there was only one place I could've gotten this from.

"So you don't like girls and you're attracted to only boys?" He brought his head up and looked right at me, voicing yet another meaningless question.

My facial expression fell into a speechless grimace as I looked from him to my mum, nonplussed. Mum had her widened gaze fixed on her almost empty plate of food, her lips puckered. It was probably an attempt to hold in her laughter.

"Are you kidding me?" I sputtered.

"You said you were gay," he shrugged defensively.

"And what does that entail?" I shot back.

"That you like only boys and not girls," he noted to himself, taking his eyes away from me.

I just stared at my food with sudden distaste, my jaws tightened. I was almost done eating, anyway, so I could survive till breakfast, or maybe till the middle of the night when I could stealthily sneak out of my room and raid the kitchen. I also had chocolate waiting for me upstairs, so, that was good for me.

"Thanks for the food," I pushed my chair back, picked my plate and my cup of fruit juice and sprung up. "Goodnight," I added before making my way straight to the kitchen.

"But, darling, you're not done eating. You still have food in your plate," my mum called from behind me.

"I'm full. Goodnight."

Throwing the rest away and washing my plate, I skipped up the stairs, back to my room.

Brushing my teeth before ridding myself of my pyjama bottoms, I jumped into bed with just boxers and my pyjama shirt. I composed a goodnight message for Mason. Alongside that, I also dropped a series of texts for him on iMessage but they didn't deliver so I assumed he was unavailable or his phone was switched off.

It had to be one of those two, he definitely wasn't ignoring me. There was no way Jess would've told him all she had in mind so fast and all in the same day. Not minutes after we just came out of a heated argument, right?

Who am I kidding? Jess was fully capable of doing exactly just that. However, I decided to remain positive for as long as I couldn't tell for sure the reason why Mason was unavailable. I was at home and safe, far away from all the drama at school. I needed to remain this happy, at least until tomorrow. It was my birthday for crying out loud.

I'd somewhat successfully come out to my family, now it was time to gradually come out to my friends. That's if I still had many of them left, anyway. At this point, Kevin was the first person that came to my mind because he was the only one I was fully certain still cared as much as he used to.

Others like Jess, Yadiri, Mason, I wasn't so sure about them anymore. Sighing out of outright tiredness, I threw my phone to the side and assumed an ideal sleeping posture. I missed my room, I missed my soft, ever so welcoming bed, I missed how rich my room was in all the things that I liked- from BTS, to animé, down to EDM. I even missed the creepy tree branch shadows on my window.

What hurt my conscience the most was the unavoidable knowledge that I still felt something so strong for Khalid. I still cared so much more for his attention more than I cared about Mason's, and I couldn't stop myself.

This realisation, accompanied by the image of Khalid's shocked expression after I'd confessed to him, burnt into my mind, my chest closed up and my heart felt heavy. It was way heavier than it was supposed to be, given everything.

In less than an hour, I drifted off to sleep. My mind had finally agreed to listen to me and quiet down.

* * *

I had absolutely no idea what the time was, but I was consummately sure that my phone wasn't supposed to be ringing this early. The crickets were still singing their songs and the birds were still asleep. So it definitely wasn't the time for a human child to call another human child on the phone.

It was my birthday, after all. Couldn't I just have this one day go exactly how I wanted it to?

Ignoring it the first five times, the persistent caller never gave up or stopped to think for a second that maybe they were deliberately being ignored. Groaning complaints to myself, I rolled to the other side of my bed to grab my phone from my bedside table, where I left it to charge.

My vision was blurry the first few minutes of turning on the screen and my eyes still tried to adjust to the light. I missed the call again, but before I could set my phone down, it started ringing for the seventh time now. Squinting my eyes at the caller ID, I noticed it was Killer Frost, my silver haired cousin; Dylan Ashcroft.

Clicking my tongue and cursing under my breath, I adjusted myself and scooted to relax on the headboard. I should've known, only Dylan could call me this early, whatever time it was. I still hadn't checked the time.

Picking the call before it could end, "What?" I snorted, announcing my presence.

"I would've sung the birthday song for you but Lucifer wouldn't approve of that, so there will be none of that cheesy nonsense from me. Anyway, happy birthday!" He squealed, a deafening pitch in his voice.

"Oh my God, Dylan. First of all, you're too dark. Secondly and most importantly, why the actual hell are you calling me this early in the morning?" I groaned into the phone, my eyes still shut.

"Don't disrespect hell like that," he admonished with a dry tone before continuing, "I wanted to be the first person to wish you. You should be glad I added your filthy timezone to my home screen and paid close attention to it so I could wish you a happy birthday as early as possible."

I sighed and tried my best to fight the sleep still tugging at my eyes. "So that's why you're calling me by, what? 1 a.m?"

"Correction, it's 5 a.m in Tadelia now. I waited," he quickly added.

"Oh, it is? So that means I've slept for like six hours," I mused. "It still feels like 1 a.m."

"I know, right," he agreed, sighing from the other end. "I can never get enough sleep these days."

"Well, congratulations. You're the first to wish me a happy birthday, aside from myself," I informed him. Sleep had almost completely freed me at this point.

"Shut up, you don't matter," he sassed me with full tilt before speedily going back to what he wanted to say. "I'm glad I wished you before any of those children of God did," he sang.

"Yeah, kudos to you, your cousin has children of God as friends," I exhaled audibly.

"Not my fault, and that's a bad thing, by the way," he mentioned. "So how do you plan to spend your birthday? Got any boy in Denberg you plan to spend it with? You know, it's been more than a month since you resumed there. Surely you must've found a boy for yourself. You're hot and everything nice. I don't want to compliment you too much," he stopped himself before he could say more.

A weak chuckle escaped my mouth, I was slightly amused by how much Dylan cared but tried his best to hide it. "Unfortunately, there's no boy. And I'm at home, Dyl," I mentioned, totally expecting what came next.

He gasped so loudly from the other end and I just knew he was probably holding a hand over his chest. Dylan was that theatrical, maybe even more than I thought.

"What the fuck are you doing at home, Gremlin? You're supposed to be in school, spending your special day with your boyfriend or your best friend, Jess, getting high and having strong plans of getting laid by the end of the day," he yelled into the phone, piercing my ears.

"That's a very elaborate plan," I commented, smiling at the tone in his voice.

"Yes, of course it is. It is perfectly mapped out because that's exactly how your day is supposed to go."

"Is that how you spent your last birthday?" I teased, giggling.

"Don't ask me that," he hastily evaded the question. "So why are you home, what's wrong?"

"A lot, a whole lot. But to break things down for you, Dylan, I got rejected. Woefully, I must add," I explained, fully invested in the call now because he'd screamed the sleep away from my eyes and my head.

"Oh shit," he muttered, taking a while before responding. "God I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine," I sighed and waited for the next thing that came.

"Who's the unfortunate, parasite infested, possessed lowlife that rejected my cousin? I'll pull out all his intestines and tie him to a chair with them, then drop him from a skyscraper. I swear to the Dark Lord, just give me his name and I'll write it on one of my juju dolls, I dare you. Just his name, Olly," he continued to spew threats.

Before he got to the end of his threats I'd already burst into laughter. My cousin was incredibly dark, it was scary. Terribly scary. But I loved it, I also couldn't get enough of it. After he'd told me how he pranked his friends during Halloween, I developed a new kind of respect for him because then I knew he was capable of anything at all.

"Grandson of Grandma Athena, calm your black magic down please," I laughed, falling to the side. It seemed talking to Dylan was exactly what I needed, he'd effortlessly lifted my mood.

"You're also Grandma Athena's grandson, what the hell?" He shot back, tutting. "So, like, did you propose to him or something, how did it happen? Are you out now?" He asked after I stopped laughing.

"I did not propose to him, Jesus Christ--"

"Lucifer," he interjected, correcting me and I just rolled my eyes.

"I didn't propose to him, I confessed to him and kissed him. Well, I first kissed him before confessing to him though," I straightened out.

He gasped again, "Oh, gracious Ares, are you dumb or stupidly dumb, cousin? How could you throw yourself at someone like that, so..." he delayed, searching for the perfect word to denigrate me with, "...So immodestly. What happened to you?"

"I was drunk, okay? And thank you so much for your kind words, by the way," I added a sarcastic comment at the end.

"Wait, what?! You were drunk? So you're drinking to the extent of losing your sobriety now?!" He exclaimed amusedly. "Wow, it seems you're having a lot of fun there."

"You really don't want to know about my drunken episodes," I scoffed, recalling everything from Tarek to now.

"Episodes?! So you've lost it more than once, twice, and you're just now turning eighteen!" He continued yelling.

It was probably late evening where he was so he had no idea what the effects of his screams had on me.

"Don't pull that card on me," I hastily disapproved.

"Okay, okay, at least you're eighteen now," he laughed. "I really can't wait for the Christmas break, you'll tell me everything!"

"Sure," I giggled at his enthusiasm. "Anyway, about coming out, I came out to mum and dad yesterday," I dropped the bomb and got ready for the explosion.

"What?!" He screeched so loudly, I had to take the phone centimetres away from my ears. "You finally accepted that you're more than just bi-curious. This deserves a really bloody, worthy sacrifice. So you really did?"

"Uh-huh," I confirmed and so came another loud screech.

"Dad is around, wow," he said that with feigned surprise. He knew all about my dad's unavailability and frequent absence. "So how did he react? How did aunt Gillian react?"

"Mum said she already knew. Pfft, as if," I blew air out of my mouth disbelievingly. I still found it difficult to accept that she actually knew or had even the slightest suspicions.

"Sorry to disappoint, Olly, but I think she actually did know. The last time you guys came over-"

"Oh, spare me that. She didn't know, period," I interrupted him, rolling my eyes even though he couldn't see it.

"How about dad, what did he say?"

"Goodness, he thought I was joking! Can you freaking imagine!" I crowed, scrunching up my nose at the disaster that was me coming out to my family.

"Typical," Dylan mumbled and started laughing. "So now they know?"

"Now they know," I repeated affirmatively. "Next up my friends or ex friends. I'm not even sure anymore."

"Jessica knows though, right?" He asked.

"She knows I'm bi-curious, I haven't come out fully to her yet," I sighed, recalling how she'd attacked me the second I got back from Mako's.

"What the hell? Isn't she supposed to be the first to know?" He wondered, sounding slightly confused.

"I-she... well I met someone who helped me and..." I groaned, giving up on explaining any further. "You know what, I just realised it's actually way too much to be discussed right now. A whole lot has happened. Can't wait for the Christmas holidays so we can catch up."

"Same, babe, same. This really sounds juicy, you know I'm hella interested," he voiced his cute, little mischievous giggle and I voiced mine as well, matching his. I loved Dylan so much.

"What about you?" I asked, shifting the focus of the conversation to him. "How's college in the US?'

"College is just alright. Don't you worry about that, we'll catch up very, very soon," he convinced. "I got you a gift, but unfortunately you won't get to see it, or hold it, till Christmas when we see. I'm so sorry," he apologised with fake sympathy.

"Oh? Do tell, what did you get for me?" I cheered, perking up at the thought of a wholesome gift from Dylan.

"I'm sorry but I can not disclose that information either. I'm really sorry," he continued apologising with that taunting tone in his voice.

"Oh, shut up," I sneered, somewhat displeased, "You're not sorry. Stop lying."

"You're right, I'm not," he agreed and we both started laughing.

We continued talking on the phone for another thirty minutes, making the total call duration some minutes over one hour. What were we talking about? I couldn't even remember half of it. All I could remember was the love I had for my silver haired cousin and how much I'd missed him.

Mum and I had gone over to Seattle to pay them a visit during my mid term break in the first term of sixth form, good times. Really good times. I missed Jaxjax so much.

Jaxton- also known as Jaxjax- was his adopted Spaniard brother. Aunt Bonnie had adopted him after his mother proved how much of a waste she was. A lot had happened, a whole freaking lot had happened, and thankfully, Jaxton ended up in aunty Bonnie's safe hands.

Sleep had completely left me now. Trying to go back to sleep would've been a failed endeavour, so I just stayed awake, expecting a happy birthday text from Mason, my best friends, and lowkey Khalid. It never came, I never got a text from any of them.

Kevin and Shirley were the only ones who wished me. They were the only ones I received birthday messages from.

Trying my very best to overlook this, I spent time texting in the group chat Dylan had created with Jaxton until it got bright and the birds started their songs.

There was a gentle knock on my door before it was pushed open, my mum's figure making its way in through the opening.

"Hello Sunshine who's an adult now," she cooed, walking in to sit on my bed.

"Mum, we talked about this 'Sunshine' name," I mumbled a protest, wiping the broad grin off my face.

I'd never-- not even for one second-- stopped smiling since Dylan created the group chat right after the call. These boys were the well-suited medication for depression and sadness, Jaxton and Dylan that is.

"And I'm allowed to use it only on your birthday and today is the day you become an adult so there's no better time than now," she argued and I instantly gave up. I didn't have energy for this, not now. "Happy birthday, darling," she whispered, resting my head on her shoulder and stroking my hair.

"Thanks mum," I melted into her embrace and breathed in her soft, piquant scent.

"How are you doing?"

"Good," I answered idly.

"No really, how are you doing?" She repeated the question a lot sternly this time.

"Really, I'm fine," I asserted softly.

"I've actually been waiting for you to summon up enough courage to come out to me yourself, I observed you were struggling and I didn't want to freak you out in any way. I've had my suspicions for a really long time now," she finished, still stroking my hair.

"Mum, on a serious note, did you really know?" I raised my head to look at her and she gently laid it back on her shoulder.

"We've lived together for eighteen years, remember?" She joked. "Of course I knew."

"Wow," I mused. "Why didn't you say anything to me then?"

"I was respecting your decisions and you as a person. It was necessary that you moved at your own pace. But what truly made me sad was that you were making something so trivial a burden, when it's something you actually should be proud of. I kept wishing hard that you would just tell me and clarify things for me so I could know exactly how to liberate you." After saying that much, she stopped and took a breather.

Elaborating on more important points, she started again. "There are way more important things to focus on, like being successful, acquiring true happiness, friendship, and relationships. Whatever your sexuality is doesn't change who you are, no one even cares about that much anymore. It's not a big deal in the society like it was during your father's time-- because I'm definitely not as old as him," she joked and a quick chuckle escaped my mouth. "You need to be happy, always remember that," she advised, pulling me up to say the last few words as she looked straight into my eyes with her deep blue ones.

She was probably right-- not probably, definitely. It wasn't a big deal anymore. But some people like Casper made it such a big deal. However, at that very moment, I couldn't waste time thinking about Casper, or Khalid, or anyone else. I was seeing only my mum and her burning love for me. Her strong, safe hands holding me and protecting me. I held back a sob and smashed myself into her so she wouldn't see me cry.

"Thank you so much, mum. Really, thank you so, so much," I cried, raising my hand and wiping away the sneaky tears that'd escaped my eyes.

"There's no need to thank me. That's exactly what I'm here for; to help you, to guide you, and most importantly to love you unconditionally," she reassured, placing soothing rubs on my back.

I gave up trying to hide my tears and cried out loudly, hugging her tightly. There was no need to be embarrassed about crying in my mum's arms. We remained like that for quite some time before I got my emotions under control once again and pulled away from her embrace.

"Once again, happy birthday. I booked a late cake, hopefully it comes before evening. Before that, I'm preparing a feast for us," she snickered, pulling the side of her mouth into a competent smirk.

"The feast is already enough," I chuckled, immensely grateful for her efforts to make my eighteenth birthday one to remember.

"Well," she sighed, getting up from the bed, "Before the feast we need to have breakfast. So, be down in ten. I'll appreciate your help in the kitchen. It's been a while since I cooked with you," she admitted.

"Oh, of course!" I squealed, throwing the covers off me and exposing a chocolate wrapper. "Oops," I froze, speechlessly staring from the chocolate wrapper to my mum.

"Is that?" She started but gave up. "I can't get you to stop filling your system with chocolate, can I?"

"No, not really, no," I answered truthfully, shaking my head with an innocent smile on my face.

"Oh well. Good thing it's a chocolate cake I ordered," she winked at me and I perked up instantly.

"Yes! I love you mum," I rejoiced, grabbing the chocolate wrapper and fully getting out of bed.

"You love chocolate," she objected.

"I also love you," I pointed out. "I'll brush my teeth and be right down," I announced, heading into my bathroom while she left my room.

Quickly brushing my teeth, I sped downstairs to help my mum make breakfast. My dad was seated in his spot at the dining table reading a newspaper. He cheerfully wished me a happy birthday which I not-so-cheerfully replied to, walking past him and heading straight to the kitchen.

We peacefully had breakfast because, surprisingly, dad had decided to keep quiet and not bombard me with irrelevant and unreasonable questions. Mum and I were still doing the dishes when the front doorbell rang.

"I'll go get it, finish up here," mum ordered before drying her hand and leaving.

After drying the plates and stacking them back, I strolled obliviously back to the living room to find out who it was that was at the door. I was halted in my steps and my mouth fell open when I saw the people my mum was beaming widely at.

"Jess and Yadiri?" I muttered under my breath, still transfixed and gaping at the both of them who were standing in the doorway with my mum.

* * *

AN: well, another chapter. I must inform you guys that we still have a way to go, there's still a whole lot that's yet to come/happen.

Please vote and leave your thoughts. I don't usually ask this, I don't even think I've before, but please share this story. Share it to your friends, your sisters, your parents, the Kardashians, Queen Elizabeth II, and to the president of your country, as long as they like BL. I don't want you getting into trouble teehee.

Till next time, loves.
Stay happy, stay safe! I love you all. <3

Update: Before I forget, the last part of this chapter (the call with his cousin) is a crossover with the book Bad Cupid by SnowMarisvega (aka my husband *insert proud face*) feel free to check it out if you liked the little glimpse of Dylan you got! I know I did.