I thought that I've been hurt before but no one's ever left me quite this sore. Your words cut deeper than a knife, now I need someone to breathe me back to life. Got a feeling that I'm going under," Stitches, Shawn Mendes

I was kissing Nishan.

I was really kissing Nishan Lawrence, San Antonio's homophobic pillar.

I was going to die and there was no way out of it. It was magic until it wasn't. It was everything I had ever wanted in a first kiss until it wasn't. It was right and somehow, among the dizziness and the clinging to him like a lifeline, something inside of me changed because it turned out that it wasn't right. It was perfect but at the same time, it wasn't because of who it was lying beneath me. Feelings that I didn't even warrant started to stir and I had no idea of what to do about it because there wasn't a thing that I could do.

"Oh," I muttered, cheeks on fire as I pulled away abruptly, unable to see anything clearly. From what I could make out, there was a scar on his stomach, long and deep and it looked as if it had hurt when it was put there. I wanted to reach and caress the scar, see how it felt, but I reminded myself of where I was. I couldn't see his face as well as I normally would have, but I could tell that his features were scrunched up in confusion.

We both were stuck in the moment and as much as I wanted to hear his thoughts—there was no sign of disgust written on his face—there was no way that I could stay sitting on top of him, even if the moment lingered on forever. I was too terrified to see what his reaction would be once it hit him that our lips touched, pressed into each other, nipped. I was too afraid to witness the true scorn of a homophobic man.

I blinked uncertainly, feeling his hands taut and rigid around my waist, gripping tightly. I knew it was the heat of the moment, but I couldn't help but blush once more at the feeling. A man like me had never been touched like this, so the inner fanboy in me wanted to relish in the nanosecond before Nishan lost his shit. "I uh," I stammered as he stared at me, those mismatched eyes furrowed into a scowl. I didn't want to know what he was thinking. God damn that fucking box for being there! It dug unnecessary holes that didn't need to be exposed because now, my work dynamic would be ruined.

Nishan still hadn't said a word but the grip around my waist lessened as his stomach flattened beneath me. His body had hardened and I took that as my cue to get out before all hell got loose and I would be on the tonight news because the Chief of Police had murdered me. "U-um," I threw his shirt at him, using my muscles to ease up off of him with the quickness. "There's your shirt!" I screeched as I all but hightailed it out of the room, sweat glistening my skin. As I ran down the hall, not caring if he had said anything or not, I realized that I had forgotten one vital tool that was important to my daily life.

My glasses.

"S-shit!" I cursed as I dashed like the Flash, making my way back to the party. I really needed my glasses, but I didn't want to go back in there, in cause he had set up a fire for me to walk into. I'll just stay blind, it was fine.

I had no idea how I was going to explain my predicament to Michael because he was incredibly sharp and nothing got past him. Dear God, I wanted to die. This whole party was a trainwreck and no one even knew it. First, that mysterious woman popped up and I knew she had to be someone of some significance because no one at a party that big talked so much about someone if they weren't important. Second, I went to go get Leon and witnessed something entirely disturbing and it made me question if Leon was a victim of domestic abuse and the staff here knew it. Third, I got put on Nishan duty and I was forced to take him his shirt and in all of that action, I had my first kiss stolen.

"Ezra, is there a problem?" Michael grunted as I bumped into him out of the blue and I slowly nodded, blinking away so that I could try to see him. I had to let him know of other things so that he didn't catch onto me. "I-I took a look at the guest list earlier, and there wasn't a Cassidy Novak on it, but somehow, she's here," I explained and I was very thankful that I was blind because I couldn't see the deep and hidden fury contorting Michael's face.

"Thanks for telling me," He took a deep breath and then he turned to me, letting me have some good news for once in my mundane life. He nodded towards the door and I cheered happily.

"You're free for the night."

I nodded with a sigh of relief, ready to dip. It wasn't that I didn't want to be here anymore because I truly didn't, but I also had important things to do in the morning. Guess what, ya boy Ezra Moore scored his interview with the Bradley Constantino of the tallest business building in the city: ELEKTRO.

With Travis there as mental support, I was going to ace this interview and get a step closer to my dream. There was nothing that could ruin this moment for me because I was almost there. I was literally almost there.

If only that were the case.

It came with the quickness. It was the next morning and I was sitting in the chair in front of the boss that I admired, a pep talk from my best friend giving me all the help I need. I stared at the man before me as he looked over my portfolio and resume, feeling extremely confident for once in my life. Finally, after a moment of silence and my fidgeting in his chair, the man of the hour closed my folder and looked at me. There was a tick of his jaw as he clicked his teeth, nodding slowly.

"Look, Mr. Moore, I'll cut to the chase," All-time mogul Mr. Constantino clapped his hands together, pinning me down with a fierce stare and I could feel my smile starting to deflate. Why was he looking at me like that? His blue eyes bore into mine as he ran a hand through his black hair. I could see clearly since I put in those dreadful contacts that I hid in my closer, so I knew that I saw emotions other than pride. "You're a nice guy and I like what you got for me," He shook his head and my heart started to pound. No. No. No. "But I have received some information regarding your lifestyle, and I can't have that kind of person working for me as I have a reputation to uphold. I take my company very seriously," Bradley raised a brow and I gulped, trying not to whimper as it hit me.

He didn't want me because despite that I had everything he needed, I was gay.

"B-but—" I went to speak but his abrupt stance cut me off. "Have a good day, Mr. Moore. My secretary will see you out," That was all he said before he left his office, leaving me to wonder what I did wrong. I could feel the pressure on my chest getting heavier and heavier as I stood, leaving the tear that fell on the floor. I kept my gaze on the ground as I stepped onto the elevator alone, contemplating everything. Was this really it? Was this really the end of the line for me?

It couldn't be.

I didn't even get a chance to get started. My heart started to beat fast and I could feel myself starting to panic as the air started to get scarce. I felt delirious getting off of the elevator and I staggered my way towards the entrance, ignoring the calls of 'have a nice day.' My chest started to throb with every breath that I took and it felt like my lungs were gonna pop. I could hear every breath I took as it got louder and louder, tighter and tighter. My dress shoes clacked against the floor—what a waste.

"So how did it go, man?" Travis smiled big at me, making his way towards me as I walked out of the glass building on autopilot. I could feel my eyes getting glossy and the sight getting blurry. Was I going to cry? I became weak at the knees as my body reacted to the seeming lack of oxygen. It was so hard to keep myself standing when all I wanted to do was crash and burn. I started to breathe heavily and all of a sudden, my airways cut off and my eyes widened, tears streaming down my cheeks as I slapped Travis's shoulders in attention.

"Oh, shit!" His eyes widened, the sound of my wheezing getting louder and louder as I approached the brink of death. "You're having an attack," More tears left my eyes as my vision got cloudier, his urges of telling me to breathe in and breathe out washing over me. It felt like someone was squeezing the air out of me and I couldn't bear to stand anymore. I couldn't focus on anything but the fact that I couldn't breathe. I was scared, so scared. I started coughing and coughing, the heat of my body increasing as my throat burned. Someone help me, please.

"Hey, man, here!" I couldn't see anything because my eyes were lidded over and I clutched at my chest, panic and fear surging through me. Everything hurt and I wanted to sleep. I felt lightheaded and all of a sudden, I felt a tube being placed in my mouth and I took a deep breath, the mist pouring down my throat, cooling my lungs.

Then it was all okay.

"You okay?" Travis put a hand on my shoulder, lifting my chin up and my lips trembled as I made eye contact with him, giving him a glimpse of what really happened. He slipped the inhaler back into his pocket, pulling me close as he wrapped his arms around me, rocking me. Then I just let myself go with a series of dry coughs. "Why do things like this always happen to me!?" I cried, clutching onto his shirt. I was inconsolable and incoherent and despite the fact that he couldn't understand me, Travis held me, rubbing my back. Why were people so judgemental without giving me a chance to show them what I could do?

"It's okay," Travis whispered, kissing my forehead as he rubbed my back soothingly. It didn't matter that we were on show in the city, dozens of people walking past. It didn't matter because for the third time in my life, my heart was broken.

And again, it was my fault because I liked men.

"I'm here, Ez," My best friend held me tightly as I cried over and over. I did my best over and over and it still wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. I disappointed myself because I got my hopes up and in the end, I was left with absolutely nothing but the cold feeling of failure. There was nothing no one could say, not Travis, not even Celina. I had to know when to stop hoping and accept the harsh reality that was the life of Ezra Moore.

"Come on, Ez," Travis mumbled, wiping away my tears as he looked into my eyes, a sad look carved into his expression. "You gotta get to work, remember?" I nodded, following him as he walked us to his car. He rubbed me tenderly, giving me all the love and the affection that he could. It was a kind gesture, but right now, I just wasn't in the mood for anything. I mean, I just wanted to know how Bradley even found out about anything. "Seatbelt," Travis muttered as he put on some soft music, making his way towards the hills of San Antonio, where the Lawrence mansion sat.

"Y-you know," I stammered as I looked out of the window, watching as we approached the hills and the estates. "I don't know what I'll do now," I confessed. I couldn't tell him exactly why I didn't get the position as a trainee as the next CEO because there were secrets that I was desperate to keep. "Why don't you just try again?" I felt a warm hand clutch mine and my gaze drifted down to see Travis rubbing the back of my hand. My brow furrowed for a bit as I turned back to the window.

"What's the point, Travis?" I lamented as we reached the tall gates that guarded the estates in which Eve and Leon lived. The guard opened the gates upon seeing me and he drove right on in, the atmosphere and tense and stiff. "There's just no way..." I bit my lip, wishing that I could just go home and curl up with my cat and forget that this day happened. Travis pulled up around the block, parking in front of the stairs that led to the door. "Call me when you're almost done," He squeezed my hand and I nodded, removing my tie. "I'll come get you," I sent a small smile his way, getting out and making my way to the door.

I could cry about it later but right now, I had a job to do. I sighed as I grabbed the apron on the hook, wrapping it around my waist. I rubbed my eyes as I began to dust away, irritation from the contacts. I was nowhere near used to wearing these, but there was no way that I was going to go retrieve my glasses. The chatter among the staff as they worked busied my mind until one thing caught me.

There was no way Bradley Constantino could've known that I was gay, considering that I hid it very well. The only people that knew it where Travis, Celina, and Michael and the only person who suspected it was...

It made perfect sense because he was the only one there when I had told the only person I knew about the interview. I gritted my teeth, hoping that I was wrong as I walked over to my fellow friend. "Michael," I tapped the burly man's shoulder and he turned around to look at me. "Do you think that you can tell me where Mr. Nishan is?" I kept my eyes on the ground, not wanting him to open the window to my eyes. "Um, master Nishan is out in the garden, if you want to speak to him," There was a warning bite to his tone, telling me to tread lightly because I was getting too close but if only he knew just how close I had gotten to Nishan. I nodded, wiping my hands on my apron as I turned for the door to the garden greenhouse.

As I stepped in, closing the door quietly so no one was disturbed by my arrival, I walked a bit closer to see a tall figure clad in a pair of dark jeans, casual boots and a black leather jacket, his back facing me as he talked with a fellow cop on the phone. It was hard to face him since our moment from last night and memories of it filled my mind, causing my cheeks to burn. Though it was a spur of the second, I couldn't think about it as I had bigger fish to fry.

"Yea, set up a meeting with the mayor. I'll discuss with him then," He chuckled in that deep voice of his before he realized that he wasn't alone. He looked over his shoulder slowly, flashing that green eye at me and I gulped, standing my ground. "Look, I'll call ya back, a'ight?" That was all he said before he hung up and turned around, the smile on his face falling instantly. "What do you want?" Nishan groused in a tone of annoyance, rolling his eyes at me as he ran a hand through his wavy locks, stepping just a bit closer.

But not too much because he didn't want to catch the gay.

He raised a brow, motioning for me to get on with it, but I found that I couldn't. "Ni..." I trailed off with a stutter, unable to finish my sentence and he turned to me, a snide remark on his nasty tongue as he glared down at me. "Did you do..." I couldn't say any more than that because the look in his eyes told me everything that I needed to know and I could feel my lips quivering as my brows furrowed in disbelief and hope that no one could be that disheartening.

"P-please tell me that y-you wouldn't be that mean," I bit my lips, feeling tears spring to my eyes. There was no way that someone would intentionally want to ruin the betterment of someone else. There was no way that someone could be that harsh and inhuman, especially when it had nothing to do with them. I looked at him, not seeing his demeanor change. He rolled his eyes as if I was a mere fly on the wall annoying him.

"Don't tell me you're about to cry," He snarled, drawing his lips up into a sneer as his eyes narrowed. "Seriously, that's fucking pathetic," He shook his head in mirth as he stalked closer, making his way towards me and I frowned, grimacing. I really had thought we had taken a step forward, but it appears that the thought was baseless. "I did you a favor, queer," He growled out lowly as he pushed my shoulder backward, bumping into me as he walked away, eliciting a silent tear from me as he blatantly destroyed the foundation of my dream.

"Why do you want to be a CEO, Ezra?" Celina asked me out of the blue and I tilted my head, wondering what kind of question was that. "What do you mean?" I raised a brow with a smile on my face. "It's not that I don't want to be the best and make money because I do," My smile fell softly, morphing into a grin. "I want to create a company where people enjoy working, enjoy helping. I want to help everyone, regardless of where they come from," It was my lifelong dream to finally be able to say that my team and I had come this far. "Most importantly, I want a job that what I do matters to everyone, not just me." Was that good enough of a reason to want to be happy and successful?

"A god damn fag like you wouldn't know how to run a fucking business."