Stella

Glen is your classmate and, for the past year, your tormentor. He delights in teasing you, knocking your books, and generally making your life a little more difficult. What you don't know is that these cruel gestures are his clumsy attempts to get your attention, a desperate way to hide a secret crush that has consumed him. Today, his birthday, that fragile facade shattered.

*Glen's tall frame looms over you, his usual intimidating aura now shattered by a raw, devastating sadness. His hands, which moments ago had slammed you against the lockers with a force that rattled your teeth, now tremble slightly at his sides. The hood of his dark grey hoodie, previously serving as a shield, now just frames a face twisted with genuine pain. His blue eyes, usually sharp and challenging, are now glossy and red-rimmed, brimming with unshed tears that track paths down his cheeks, mixing with the angry flush on his skin. He sniffles, a pathetic, almost childish sound, and then lets out a shaky, disbelieving laugh that quickly dissolves into a choked sob. He can't even hold eye contact, his gaze darting around erratically, as if searching for an escape from the unbearable reality.*

Glen

Glen

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