TW// No specific warning, just kind of a heavy chapter

I'D NEVER SEEN more rainbows in my entire life.

The parade was lively and so crowded that my arm was roped around Roman and Harlow's so I couldn't get lost. There were what seemed to be hundreds of people here, all as open and proud as the people I'd seen at The Pub. I could see what Roman meant now—it didn't matter what anyone here identified as; we were all just people.

We had just finished dancing at a performance by someone dressed in perhaps the coolest outfit I'd ever seen, with purple fluffy pants and a rhinestone crop top. Moxie had suggested we stop dancing to catch our breath and grab some drinks, which was fine by me. My throat felt drier than the Sahara desert from all the screaming.

We reach a drinking station and Harlow instantly purchases a round of shots, setting them down in front of us. I shake my head at the drink; it was only midday and I wasn't too eager to get drunk tonight. "Just water for me, thanks."

"Want one, Romano?" Harlow asks, pushing two shots in front of Roman. I wait for him to decline it, but he doesn't. Instead, he loops his fingers around the tiny shot glass and swallows it in one go, no chaser necessary. Harlow cheers him on and Moxie pats his back before downing her own shot.

They complete another round of shots and I can see Roman change from the alcohol in his system. His shoulders weren't as rigid and his eyes were lighter like he'd forgotten all of his troubles all at once. Nova finishes his third shot just as Roman grabs his fourth. "Wanna slow down, dude?"

Roman swallows back the fourth shot, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm all good."

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you sure?" I didn't know exactly why Roman didn't drink, but something tells me that it was a good reason. "You're looking slightly tipsy."

Roman laughs loudly, much louder than usual. "And you're looking absolutely beautiful," he says, giving me a bright smile before turning around and ordering a drink that I could barely even pronounce.

I blush hard at his words, 100% sure that the rest of his friends had heard and not entirely knowing what to make of that. I wouldn't know how to explain our relationship to them. I didn't even know what they knew.

We finish at the bar shortly after that, Roman, Harlow, and Moxie taking bright red drinks with loopy straws to go as we walk through the parade. An arm wraps around my shoulder and I turn expecting to see a slightly tipsy Roman but instead see Nova. "Hello," he says, dragging out the 'o.'

"Hey," I respond back, suddenly nervous. "I didn't mean to break his nose, for the record. I mean, I meant to hit him but not in his nose and I especially didn't think it'd break and I know that sounds counterintuitive since I, you know, actively punched him, but I felt so awful afterward. I literally almost cried and I drove him to the hospital so that has to count for—"

"Braylen," Nova says, laughing softly as he removes his arm from my shoulder. He begins walking slightly faster and I nearly have to run to keep up with him. "I'm not mad that you broke his nose. I thought the story was hilarious, personally."

I let out a deep breath. "Oh," I mumble dumbly. "Does he...does Roman talk about me a lot?"

Nova smirks. "He didn't tell me you two were dating if that's what you're asking."

I balk. "Then how do you know?"

"You just told me," Nova responds, grinning cheekily.

I couldn't blush any deeper if I tried. "I-I...we're not dating, per se. Just..."

"Having sex? Hanging out with one another? Sounds like you're dating to me," Nova says. My face must've paled at his words because he holds his hands up. "Relax, I'm not judging. I've had my fair share of complicated relationships or...situationships, rather. I get it. But, Roman, he's not as put together as he seems."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he seems okay a lot of the time. And maybe he is, I don't know. But it's temperamental, okay? He doesn't need anything to...make him fall back into who he used to be," Nova says. "And I don't think you're going to be bad for him, necessarily, but I needed to say it all the same."

I swallow hard before nodding at Nova. I knew he was just trying to be a good friend. I knew that. But was he right? Could I really be the thing that makes him fall apart all over again?

Nova walks away from me and instead wraps his arms around Moxie who'd been laughing with Harlow and Roman. Amara sidles up to me, smiling in a friendly way. "Hi," she says with a soft smile. "I'm Amara. You're Braylen, right?"

"Yeah," I respond with a smile. "Great to meet you."

"You too," she responds. "This is my first Pride. Roman said it was yours too? I only came out a couple of months ago, but the response has been okay so far. My parents took some getting used to the idea of me dating girls and guys. It was really my grandmother that was hard to convince."

I smile. She seemed to ramble just as I did, but something about her words drew me in more. "Your grandma?"

Amara nods. "She moved here from the Philippines when she was seventeen. She's got, like, ideas of how a good little Filipino girl should be and I'm pretty sure I check off none of those boxes. Even before I came out as bi."

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "Is she okay with it now?"

Amara shrugs her shoulders. "I know things won't ever necessarily be the same, but that's okay. Life is always changing. We've just got to toughen up and change with it, right?"

        I glance at her. "I think you're brave. Figuring out my sexuality...it's been one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through. And I still don't have it all understood just yet. But knowing who you are, sharing it with other people, it's incredible."

Amara laughs softly. "Yeah, well, I don't see myself as brave. Being bisexual isn't all I am. It's a small part of it. I'm still me either way. You know?"

"Not yet," I admit, smiling softly. "But I think I'm starting to."

¥

The parade ended just before nine, and though the rest of the group continued on for after parties, Nova thought it best if Roman and I headed home. I wasn't exactly complaining—my feet were killing me; I didn't think I'd walked so much in my entire life. And Roman was drunk.

It'd happened gradually. So gradually that I didn't notice until he was falling asleep on my shoulder as Harlow dropped us off back at the apartment. He was wide awake now, though still clearly off his face, and I have to practically lug him down the hallway to his apartment.

We stop in front of his door and I huff, lifting up half of his body weight on my right shoulder. "Rome, hey? Rome, I need your keys."

His eyes catch onto mine and he frowns softly. "What was that, baby?"

I blush softly at the word before remembering he's drunk. It didn't mean anything. Obviously. "Your keys? Where are they?"

Roman doesn't answer, just laughs softly and turns his face away. I roll my eyes and reach around his pockets, digging my hand into them to fish for the stupid keys. Roman balks, grabbing my wrist quickly. "Don't give me a handjob in public!"

"I am not giving you a handjob!" I retort, finally grabbing the keys and moving to unlock the door. I push it open and grab Roman's hand, pulling him into the apartment behind me. We end up in his room and I kick off my shoes happily, grateful for the slight relief on my feet.

I'm massaging the soles of my feet when I hear a loud sigh and turn to see Roman struggling with his overalls. "What're you doing?" I ask.

"Trying to get out of these clothes," he responds quickly. "I gotta piss."

I chuckle softly before standing up and unfastening his overalls until they fell just at his hips. "Better?"

"Yeah," he responds, running a hand over his head and laughing suddenly. "God, I'm drunk. Hey, don't tell Braylen about this, okay?"

Raising an eyebrow, I cross my arms across my chest. "I am Braylen, dumbass."

"You are?" Roman asks, eyes widening. "Shit. You're not supposed to see me like this."

I know I shouldn't push. Really, the last thing I should do is push. But I'm me. So I do. "Like what?"

Roman blushes for the first time, his cheeks turning bright pink. "I dunno. Real, I guess," he mutters, playing with the loops on his overalls. "I'm gonna go piss now."

He turns on his heel and into the bathroom and I sigh, sitting down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. What did he mean by that? Real? Has he been pretending to be someone else this entire time? There were so many mysteries around Roman de Carlo and I could feel myself wanting to solve them all, wanting to break the damn box and finally see if Schrödinger's cat made it after all. But would that ruin the illusion? Would that ruin everything?

I check my phone. At least ten minutes had to have passed and I start to worry he hit his head or something. What was taking so long, anyway?

As if on cue, there's a sound of faint buzzing and I'm on my feet in an instant, pushing open the bathroom door and stepping inside.

He's there on the floor, still dressed in his overalls and holding a hair razor to his head. "What in the '07 Britney are you doing, right now?" I yelp, grabbing the razor from him and shutting off. It takes me a moment to see the tears in his eyes and when I do I'm on the floor next to him, instantly. "Rome?"

"I didn't mean to," he whispers, shutting his eyes tightly. "I thought I could handle it, I-I thought that my therapy was working. I thought I was better. Shit."

I grab his hand, looping my fingers through his. "What's wrong, Roman? Why are you trying to cut your hair off?"

He turns to me, eyes shiny with tears. I can feel my heart breaking as I realize that his makeup, the makeup he'd spent hours perfecting was running in colorful streaks down his skin. "I look just like him, Braylen," he whispers. "I look like him. I talk like him. I act like him. I can't grow out my hair, I can't stop getting tattoos, I can't drink alcohol. He's fucked me up and there's nothing I can do about it."

I breathe deeply through my nose. "Roman, he's your father. But he is not you. And it's hard to see that, especially when you're feeling like this. But it is not impossible. You're good, Roman. He's not. You are nothing like him."

He sniffs, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. "My hair is getting long again," he explains. "I just wanted it gone."

"Okay," I respond. "I'll cut it for you."

So I do. I spend the next ten minutes shaving off the slightly longer hair on Roman's head as he cries softly, into his arm. When I'm finished, I grab a wet towel and bring it to his skin, softly washing away the makeup and the tears until all I could see was his beautiful face looking back at me. An idea suddenly sparks in my head and I quickly plug back in the razor, handing it to Roman.

"What?" he asks, eyebrows raised. "Did you miss a spot?"

"No," I mutter, laughing softly at his confused expression. "Do me."

Now he really looked confused. I wonder why briefly before realizing the sexual undertone of my words. "No, I mean, cut my hair too. Just like yours."

Roman shakes his head instantly, staring at me. "Braylen, no."

"Roman, yes. Do it. I trust you," I say. I reach out and loop our fingers together and plant a soft kiss on the back of his hand. "We don't have to be those hurt people anymore, Rome. We can start over. So cut it off."

Roman laughs sadly, squeezing my hand and glancing at the razor. "I'll probably just mess it up."

I shake my head softly. "I trust you," I repeat. Then I climb into his lap and press my back against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt and I memorize the beat of it, painting it across my mind like clouds across the sky. It wasn't going anywhere. That much I was sure of.

I hear the razor before I can feel Roman cutting my hair and stare at myself in the mirror as he works. My eyes travel to him almost instantly, the concentrated look on his face as he cuts my hair. He's done in less than five minutes and turns off the razor and places it on the counter beside us. I turn to Roman and grin.

"How do I look?" I ask, but my words are cut off by him pulling my shirt and planting his lips on mine. The kiss is short but by no means boring, and I can feel my skin getting hot just at the smallest touch of his finger along my bare hip.

He pulls back with a small smile and a single tear leaving his eye. "So incredibly beautiful."