Chapter Text
halfbloodsecrets.tumblr.com
Posted by [email protected]
He – A Poem About Coming Out
Multicoloured houses stand in neat rows,
But he can’t see their vast rooms through their tiny windows
As he is tossed about on
The vicious waves between them.
He feels exposed in his own shaded greenhouse –
Everyone knows what should be inside,
But no one can see it,
And no one can feel the torment he faces
As the blue waves batter against his delicate garden.
He looks out over the stormy ocean, but he can no longer see the colourful homes,
So he waits
For as long as it takes
Until he finds a shore worth swimming to.
- Angel
Will leans back in his chair, running his hands through his hair.
His first thought is: wow.
His second thought is: I'm not alone.
Then every thought after that gets a little bit muddled in his head, ideas and memories coming thick and fast. He hears one recurring question, though:
Who is he?
It's probably unfair of him to try and guess who He is about or by, because whoever it is clearly isn't out to anyone yet, but at the same time...
The name given doesn't give any clues. Angel? Maybe Jason Grace, who is the dictionary definition of physically perfect and looks a lot like an angel. Or maybe Mitchell, who played an angel in Half Blood's most recent drama production. But Mitchell's already out to the entire world, nearly, and Will is 90% sure Jason Grace is dating Piper.
I guess he could be bisexual, Will thinks. But poetry isn't really Jason's style.
He reads the poem again, looking for any other clues he could have missed. But no. Even the email doesn't have any hidden suggestions.
Wait-
Email!
Will clicks on the email link before he can really think about what he's doing, ready to type a response.
But he hits a barrier. His personal email comes up - [email protected] - and he suddenly has a bad feeling in his gut.
Because Will, like Angel, isn't out to anyone yet.
And although the internet is faceless, although Angel seems like a nice guy...
He's not ready. As Will Solace, he's not ready to be out.
So he clicks off the link, leaning back in his chair again, and drums his fingers on the desk.
He could make an anonymous email, like Angel. Would that be chickening out? Somehow, it feels like it would be, even though it doesn't feel the same with Angel.
He gets up and paces around his room.
Then he sits back at his desk.
Then he gets up again and bangs his head against the wall. Usually, this doesn't help in the slightest. He's not really sure why he thought it would help now.
"Oi!" Michael yells from the next room, banging back with his fist.
Will sits down again, grinning.
He really loves his brothers - he's always been a family guy, even when his mom left. He thinks that probably cemented his love for them even more.
But recently there's been a wall between them. Will knows exactly what kind of bricks it's built from, but no one else does. It's kind of driving them apart.
Will feels bad about it. But he isn't able to knock the wall down.
He decides there are worse things in life than an anonymous email and creates a new account.
[email protected] is probably a little too gay, even for him, but it's the only thing he could think of that isn't glaringly obviously Will Solace.
(It's actually very much not obvious, except to those who know that his father is called Apollo. So, just Austin and Kayla. He really hopes Angel is not Austin (or Kayla, for that matter)).
Austin, Will's best friend of thirteen years, is probably the most attractive out of everyone in their friendship group (Austin, Kayla, Will, and also Lou Ellen and Cecil, as of this year). But Will knows for a fact that Austin is crushing desperately on Lou Ellen, and he has a policy of not falling for guys he knows are straight.
Also, he thinks, falling for your best friend is a little bit weird.
He turns back to his screen, and types:
Dear Angel,
Then he deletes it and restarts with:
To Angel,
because Dear is maybe probably too formal.
To Angel,
I am just like you. I have awesome friends and an awesome family, and we do friend things and family things and basically love each other very much.
But I have a secret. And I'm slowly drifting away from them. Like you.
Your post on the Tumblr pretty much sums up how I feel about it - about my secret. I guess it must be similar for all of us?
I hope this isn't too weird, me emailing you, but your poem made me feel like I wasn't alone with all of this. I've never felt that way before.
It would be great to have someone to talk to.
- Sunshine
He hits send before he can think twice about what he's doing. But he doesn't close the window, instead staring at the screen, at his already-sent response, not entirely sure what he's searching for.
A reply? But it's unrealistic to expect Angel to have his email open right now.
Still, Will sits there, head resting on his folded arms, staring at his laptop for - well, it's a long time. He doesn't realise how long it's been until his father knocks on his bedroom door.
"Will?" he says softly, before coming in.
Will jerks his head up, slamming his laptop shut.
Apollo smiles. "Looking at something you shouldn't be?"
Will huffs, something that's probably meant to be a laugh.
"We're all the same, us guys," his father grins. "Especially at your age."
Will huffs again. He thinks he's blushing, probably. "It's not like that, Dad."
Apollo winks as he turns to leave the room. "Dinner's nearly ready. Come down once you're-" he glances at the closed laptop "-finished." Then he winks again and leaves.
Will waits until the door's completely shut, then flops onto his desk, his head in his arms, groaning.
The first thing Will does in the morning is check his emails.
Still no reply.
He's not really sure what he was expecting - an immediate response? It's likely Angel hasn't checked his emails in the last day. It's not like people use them regularly nowadays anyway.
Still. Will's buzzing as he gets ready for school, unable to get comfortable.
"Something wrong?" Apollo asks as they sit down for breakfast (Lee's turn this morning, so they're eating cereal).
Will's legs are jittering under the table. He shrugs noncommittally, keeping his gaze on his bowl.
"Come on, honey. What's on your mind?"
"Nothing." Will's voice is kind of high pitched and quiet.
"School? Track?" Apollo gasps dramatically. "A girl?"
Will says, "No, Dad - it's not that." He wonders what his dad would say if he told the truth.
"No, Dad, it's not a girl. It's actually a boy that I haven't met yet. In fact, we haven't even talked. By the way, did I mention that I'm gay?"
How do people even start this?
Standing up, he says, "I'm going to be late," and leaves the table, his cereal only half eaten.
The bike ride to school helps, but only a little. It's nice to feel the breeze on his face.
Morning classes are hell. He checks his phone before lessons start, in passing period between chemistry and English, and - once - during Latin.
"Can anyone tell me when the first Punic War began?" Chiron drones. Usually, his lessons are interesting.
Will's hand shoots up.
"Will?" Chiron says.
"Sir - can I go to the toilet, please?"
Chiron sighs. Will hears a few sniggers from the back of the class - probably Clarisse and her crew.
"Just- just go," Chiron says.
So Will goes. He has to stop himself from running to the bathrooms - the halls are empty, but someone might see him through an open door.
He can't close the stall door quick enough. He tears his phone from his back pocket, pulling up gmail-
Still no reply.
Will is starting to give up hope, just a little bit.
On top of this, he can't stop himself from checking every guy in the school to see if they might be Angel.
He mentions it at lunch.
"Hey guys, did anyone see that poem posted on the Tumblr last night?"
It's not really suspicious, he thinks, because everyone checks the Tumblr daily.
"Oh yeah," Lou Ellen says. "The one by the gay kid?"
Will nods.
"Who do you think wrote it?" Kayla says. Will knew she would have seen it - she follows the Tumblr religiously. That's not an exaggeration.
"Definitely Mitchell," Cecil says. "Poetry is such a gay thing. Had to be him."
Will bristles at that, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "But Mitchell is already out. Why would he post it?"
"Are you saying gay people only have to come out once?" Lou Ellen says, and Will curses himself silently because she has a point.
"So you think it's Mitchell?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. I'm hardly the school's biggest gaydar."
"That would be Mitchell," Cecil says, and everyone else at the table laughs.
Will's not really sure why he brought it up.
He somehow manages to survive the rest of the day, even though it's nearly torture.
Home comes at long last. He races up to his room and flops onto his chair without saying hi to his dad or his brothers.
His laptop takes too long to load. As usual, but worse.
He's almost afraid to pull up gmail. What if there's no reply? He's been waiting all day - longer - for this.
But he opens the window.
No reply.
Will honestly wants to cry. He lets his head fall against the desk, a pencil pot falling over as he crashes.
Sitting up, he takes his phone out of his bag and checks his emails there, as if he'll find something different.
He doesn't.
He knows he's kind of letting this Angel thing take over his life. He needs to stop.
Stop. Breathe. Take out some homework.
Latin first. But he can't concentrate. Homework just makes him think of school, which makes him think about all the guys he knows who may or may not be Angel.
There's a knock on his door.
"Will? Can I come in?"
The thing about Apollo is that he doesn't wait for an answer. Ever.
"I was wondering if we could talk, Will."
What kind of conversation opener is that?
Will doesn't look up. "Okay."
"No- I mean, talk talk."
"About..." Will prompts, even though he thinks he knows exactly what it's about. He wants to hear it from his dad first.
Apollo lifts his hands up as he sits heavily on Will's bed. "Life," he says. "You."
Will turns round in his chair so he's sitting on it backwards. "What about me?" He knows he's being awkward. He also knows that he's too preoccupied to talk to his dad at the moment.
"Where have you been?" Apollo starts. "You've been so far away. What's going on?"
Maybe one of the reasons Will's mom left is because Apollo is such a mom himself. Will doesn't mind - usually.
He's just about to make up some answer about school when a faint ding comes from his open laptop behind him.
His laptop where his emails are pulled up.
Apollo looks confused, but Will doesn't see as he spins back round and flings himself at his laptop.
New Emails (1), his laptop tells him. From [email protected].
Will wants to laugh and cry and run around his room and sing.
"Who's that?" Apollo asks.
And scream. Did he mention screaming?
"Uh, just someone," he says, but he doesn't really register himself speaking as he opens the email.
"Who?"
"Not now, Dad." The email is addressed to Sunshine.
"Then when?" Apollo says. Will hears him stand up. "Tomorrow? Next week? Will, we haven't talked in months. I want to know why you're so distant."
Will's not really listening. "Huh?" he says as he tries to concentrate on the email in front of him, but it's too hard to focus with his dad standing behind him.
"Will, honey, please listen to me."
There's something in his voice that makes Will turn his head. Apollo is standing behind him - not so close that he can see the emails, but closer than he was before.
"Sorry, Dad. I'm busy. Can we do this some other time?"
Apollo looks at the laptop screen, then at the homework left open on Will's desk. Then, he sighs and says, "Fine. Fine. But we have to talk at some point, okay?"
Will does his best to smile, and says, "Okay."
Apollo takes his time leaving. He pauses at the door, turning his head and opening his mouth as if to says something. Will waits for him, but he turns back and closes the door behind him, saying nothing.
Will takes a deep breath before turning back to his laptop and pulling up the email.
To Sunshine,
If I'm being honest, I wasn't sure if I was going to reply to this. I wasn't expecting anyone to respond to my poem. Not like this. I think I'm glad you did, though. You're right - it will be nice to have someone to talk to about everything.
And I'm intrigued - what is this awesome family of yours like? I have two sisters who I love more than anything in the world, but it sounds like you have a really good relationship with your parents as well.
Tell me more, Sunshine.
- Angel
Will leans back in his chair, sniffing. He thinks he has tears in his eyes, not because what Angel wrote was sad or even particularly moving, but because somehow, Will feels more like him than he ever has with anyone else.
No, not somehow. Because Angel is like Will. They're going through the same things. Have been through the same things.
Like the same things. The same people.
Will has never found someone like him before.
And he thinks this might be the start. Of what, he doesn't know.
But it's a start. And it's going somewhere.
Three Weeks Later
To Sunshine
No, no I totally get it. Double stuff oreos are just too sweet - who thought they would be a good idea? Although, I'm going to have to disagree with you that the peanut butter ones are best. They're somewhere near the top of my list, but cool mint will come first forever and always for me.
And about weird family Halloween traditions, we don't really have any. We used to go trick or treating when we were younger, and my dad would have the best costume in the village every time. I kind of miss it. I think it's very unfair that trick or treating is for children. What if I want sweets too? Why is it suddenly called 'stealing' as soon as we reach the age of ten?
My sister's home from uni for a few days next weekend, so we'll probably do something together. She always loves dressing the house up for the kids who come round, but we never seem to get many. A side effect of living on the outskirts.
On a different note, I don't think I'm ready to show you any of my poetry yet, sorry. I rarely show my stuff to anyone because it's not very good, most of the time. Someday, though. Someday I hope I'll be able to show you all of my poems. Especially the ones about you.
Love, Angel
Will thinks he's a little bit in love.
Scratch that. Will's falling hard. Something he didn't think would happen for a long time.
It's honestly the best feeling in the world.
This one was sent last night, but he's reading it again on a library computer as a way of procrastinating in his free period. There's another from this morning, which has already been read a few hundred times.
He thinks that these emails might be taking over his life a little bit. He's obsessed. It's probably not healthy, grinning to himself this much.
But he's not going to stop. He's never been so happy.
His phone buzzes beside him. Kayla, calling.
"Hello?" He picks up on the second ring.
"Solace, where are you?"
He pulls the phone away from his ear to check the time. Crap, lunch started fifteen minutes ago.
"Sorry, honey, I'll be there in five."
He hangs up and hurriedly logs out of the computer, shoving his untouched Latin work in his bag.
"Hey Will."
Will cringes internally. "Hi Drew."
"Hey. Hi," she says when he doesn't turn around or stop walking towards the changing rooms. "Will-" she grabs onto his arm, pulling him to a stop.
He turns around reluctantly, shaking free of her manicured grip. "What?"
"I was just wondering if we could talk," she says. "It's been so long."
Will shrugs.
Drew starts walking, leaving no option but for him to follow. But she doesn't head towards the changing rooms - instead, she leads him to the small area behind the tennis courts.
"What do you want, Drew?" he asks. He hopes this isn't another attempt of hers to ask him out; they dated once in middle school and she hasn't got over when he ditched her halfway through prom.
She shrugs and stares up at him through her thick lashes. "We haven't spoken in ages."
Yeah, and there's a reason for that. "What is this about?"
She drops her act, realising it's getting her nowhere. "I used the library computers today."
Will frowns, turning away. "Stop wasting my time."
But she keeps talking. "I opened gmail and your account came up. You obviously forgot to log out."
At first, he doesn't understand what she's saying.
"And I couldn't help but see a few of your emails," she continues. "Read them."
And suddenly, Will works out what she means. He whips round, his fingers twitching.
"You read my fucking emails." It's not a question; he already knows the answer.
"Don't worry, I won't show anyone," she says. "Your secret's safe with me."
Will wants to sigh in relief, but something about what she said doesn't quite fit right. And then it clicks: "Show anyone? Did you screenshot them or something?"
She shrugs. Her red lipstick looks like blood on her lips. There's a smudge on her front tooth as she smiles, saying, "What, don't you trust me?"
"No, not really," Will says. His voice is quiet. He's somehow in a calm rage. "Especially not now that you screenshotted my fucking private emails."
She says, "I think we're in a position where we could help each other here. You're clearly not out yet - I could help you with that."
"I don't want your help, Drew. Stay the fuck out of my way."
"Fine, fine, if that's what you want." But she's still smiling. "I'll stay out of your way. But you can still help me out. You're good friends with Austin, right?"
Will can see where this is going. "You want me to set you up."
"That's not what I said. You could help me along, though. Just let me in to your circle. I can work my magic once I'm in range."
Of course you can. "And what if I don't want to help you?"
Her face goes serious for a moment. "I mean, I do have the screenshots."
Will blanches. He feels sick in his stomach. "Are you blackmailing me?"
She shakes her head, still serious. "I just think we're in a good position here, Will. You help me, and I help you."
"Yeah, you're being real helpful here, Drew." Will's voice drips with sarcasm, but she ignores it.
"Great! So we're in agreement?"
Will wants to throw up. Preferably on Drew's lacy white top. But what can he say? What can he do?
So he says, "I'll let you tag along. And you'll delete the screenshots."
She smiles, so sweet and so deadly. "Of course." Then she slaps him lightly on the shoulder. "So, who's Angel?"
"No one. He lives back home."
Texas is a long way from New York. Will thinks it's probably the safest distance he can make up, because he's not telling her Angel goes to Half Blood.
"Aww," she says, skipping beside him. "Long distance relationships are so cute."
Will runs the rest of the way back to the changing rooms, thanking the gods that boys and girls are split.