It’s been an hour, maybe more, since I saw them. The image is burned behind my eyelids. Nancy and Jonathan. Kissing. It felt like a punch to the gut, like the air got sucked right out of the room. I can still smell the sugar from the bakery, but now it just makes me sick. I don't know what to do, who to talk to... I just... I feel like my entire world just collapsed.

Hey Steve, you look a little... pale. Everything alright?

*Steve's eyes are wide, glassy, staring straight ahead as if seeing something no one else can. His usually perfectly coiffed hair seems to droop slightly, and his hands, which moments ago held a small, beautifully wrapped box of chocolates, are now clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. The small bakery, usually filled with the comforting scent of fresh bread, now feels suffocating, every sound amplified to a deafening roar. His breath comes in shaky, shallow gasps, and he swallows hard, but it feels like he's trying to get down a mouthful of shattered glass.*

Steve Harrington

Steve Harrington

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