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Of course it's raining.
A typical Tuesday in Vaughan, Canada. Not that Logan minds, of course. If it was at all legal and didn't come under public indecency, then he'd strip down to his speedo and swim for miles on the road.
It's a weird thought, yes. Logan doesn't think of himself as this swimming uberfan, though, he simply likes the sport. Plain and simple.
Not only was it a very common hobby among people of all ages, but it was so exhilarating and built up his body strength. It was the perfect thing for him. The soothing, calming nature of the water running across his skin as he paddled and pushed himself to the next goal. He feels awake in the pool. Alive in the water.
He has other hobbies too, don't think too fast. Photography is one of his other most well-known, joyful activities among his peers. They're never the ones taking a photos, they always come out looking blurred or jagged. At least, according to Logan. He can find the perfect angle and the perfect poses.
Especially sunrises. He loves sunrises. They appear so elegant in the sky; shining it's light of glory across the globe and blessing the people below with it's divine aura of happiness. And when it's about to fall, the ocean below casts a serene, reflective glow back up into the sky and waves.
...Did I mention he likes water?
Anyway, he's not just backstrokes and butterflies. He's a diverse man, who keeps his options open. In most ways.
His bright, ginger hair was currently blowing through the soft wind, cooling his face down after having been running for the past two minutes in a race. A race against his friend, Jackson. With sweat-soaked foreheads, they panted loudly and slowly paced forward, Jackson celebrating to himself after his victory.
Jackson was a tall (6"0) boy with short, brunet hair and captivating brown eyes to match. Much like Logan, he wore a blue, white-sleeved jersey with the letter "J" engraved inside a circle on the front. His face lacked facial hair, and his luscious hair was styled into a sports-cliché left flick.
They stayed in long silence for that time. The boys were inseparable, but very competitive. Being on the same swim team added to both of those, Jackson was just the better runner.
"Finally, you have no idea how long it's taken to beat you at one of these stupid things." Jackson laughs, clapping his hands in the air in exhaustion and relief.
"I guess you got me. You were sure to get it sooner or later." Logan replies. What he isn't telling the boy is that he purposefully slowed down to let him win. Mostly out of pity, but somewhat due to his exhaustion already existing from the boredom during his school day.
Another while of quiet. Both of the teenage boys silently agreed that they were too tired at the moment to upkeep a long conversation, and resorted to walking along the pavement in comfortable silence.
Walking home was another part of Logan's daily routine. A majority of those days was spent walking (or running) alongside his best buddy, Jackson. The rest were either alone or idly walking with a random friend that happened to be going the same direction that day.
Jackson only lived 6-7 houses down across the street from Logan, which was convenient and created opportune times for them to hang out. It's a Tuesday, so the shorter Logan would be going over the other boy's house today. Key word being 'would'.
Results were given out for a math exam today; an important one. The important one. Logan's parents were expecting a lot off of him from this exam, even if their expectations for swimming were through the roof into space.
Did Logan fail? Well, he won't tell you.
I will, though. He failed.
His parents wanted him home immediately from school to tell them the 'good' news, and was forbidden from visiting Jackson's today, much to both the swimmer's dismay.
Jackson was the first to break the silence, a smug smile still on his face.
"You gonna tell 'em?" The brunet asks, referring to the exam, knowing the other would be annoyed by his tease.
"Uhh, hell no. They will actually kill me." Logan protests, raising his arms in defence. "I'll just tell them, I don't know, someone spilled water over them."
"Guess that's believable enough. Your ol' man that stupid, though? He's a major in science. Stupid people don't have big things like that."
Logan sighs, placing his left cheek in his palm.
"He's smart. But it's worth a try, right? Never give up." The ginger-hair smirks, glaring playfully at the other. The brunet rolls his eyes.
"Because waves may push you under, but your strength to rise makes you unstoppable." The boy says mockingly. "Yes, I know. I swear to god you give that speech five times a week."
The shorter boy snickers, covering his hand with his fist.
"It works, don't it? Our team's pretty good." Logan boasts confidently, placing a proud hand against his chest. They both giggle.
"Yeah, I know. But it's the kinda thing an Olympian says to themselves before beating the world record." Jackson scoffs, still feigning his annoyance. He pauses, getting an idea. "Hey! You could be an Olympian one day, right?"
"Shut up." Logan immediately becomes timid, hiding his face by looking in the other direction. "I'm not that good." He mumbles, crossing his arms. Logan was that good, actually. Almost. No matter how many times his friends or his coach told him about how professional and high-levelled his skill in the swimming pool was, he never believed it.
He knew he could swim. He knew that better than anyone. He was the one in the water. Despite that, he continuously denied his expertise so the attention wasn't constantly against him.
"Whatever you say, man." Jackson chuckles. "If you became an Olympian, you could finally get that girlfriend you wanted." He nudges Logan on the arm with his elbow, a sly grin coming onto his face as he leans closer to the shorter boy. Logan froze.
They have this conversation a lot. 'Where's the chick?' 'Got a lucky lady yet?' etcetera. In a hypocritical way, Logan gave the same response each time, too. 'I'll get her eventually.' 'Maybe one day.' The whole shebang. He, of course, was going to follow through with these responses. Obviously. Without a doubt.
He just hasn't had the opportunity to even have a girlfriend yet.
Well, except for that time a girl from the cheerleading group gave Logan a kiss on the cheek and asked him to dinner. She was just being nice, right? Logan didn't see any interest in her either, so at least that feeling was mutual.
Or... the time he went on a date with one of those mean girls. She... just wasn't his type. Blondes aren't really his things.
But other than that, absolutely zero occasions where he could nab a girl and bring her to the movies, or something.
"Dude?" A voice suddenly rang through Logan's ears, realising he'd been silent for way too long.
"O-Oh. Yeah. What?" He recovers quickly, but far from elegantly.
"Girlfriend? When's it happening? Even my mom is asking about it now." Jackson frowns, and Logan raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, one: that's weird. Two: there's just... nobody attractive to me in the school. Guess my standards are too high." Logan lies, shrugging in feigned innocence.
"Even I have one now, and I've got no game." Jackson smirks. "And for the record, there's plenty of attractive girls around. Like my girlfriend. You saying she's ugly?"
Logan stutters, a naïve, golden retriever-esque surprise in his eyes.
"W-What? No way! I bet she looks really good!" He exclaims loudly.
"Excuse me?" Jackson grins devilishly.
"W-Wait, no!" Logan once again tries to defend himself, and Jackson can only laugh, patting Logan on the back.
"I'm just kidding, man. Seriously, though. Lemme know when you finally get some action. High school's boring without someone to spend it with, right?"
After that, Logan shrugs, and they walked in a long silence once again. By that, I mean a minute-long silence, as they both arrive home. Jackson splits off to his own home first, and the shorter boy continues walking forward.
This can't be too hard, right? It's just his parents. It's not like the exam is going to be the hot topic conversation the whole evening, it'll only take half a minute and then they can all continue on with their respectful lives.
...Right?
His parents were strict, sure. He didn't think they were horrible to him. They put a roof over his head, gave him meals every day. What more could he ask for, really? The only problem was working up any courage to have an emotional conversation with his parents.
Which was about to happen in hopefully more than an hour. Give or take.
-
Logan reluctantly walks up to his front door, duffel bang hanging over his shoulder. His jersey was caked in sweat, his forehead a little dryer from the wind blowing across his skin. The red wood was mocking him, also signalling a danger inside. It was a stark contrast to the friendly 'Welcome!' sign beneath his feet.
With that last ounce of energy, he opened the door. Didn't announce himself to be entering whatsoever, just let himself walk inside.
The ginger-haired teen then began to smile mischievously, glee approaching.
'Spy Mission!' He thought. As quietly as he possibly could, Logan kicked his shoes off and kept them sitting by the front door, nodding as they fell perfectly into place, after years of practice. He tiptoed across the floorboards, the creaks almost giving away his secrecy, despite him being the furthest from quiet.
The athlete peeked around the corner, poking only the top half of his head to stare into the lounge which was at the right of where he walked in. His Dad sat comfortably on the couch, a small bottle of classic Heineken sat on the coffee table next to him. The man slouched, leaning cosily in the leather of the chair and eyes glues to the television screen.
Logan sighed in relief. He continued his adventure forward. Once the stares objectives had been reached, he bolted upwards, jumping 3 steps at a time to maximise the speed thanks to his long legs. He didn't slam his bedroom door, but it was certainly loud. The boy cursed quietly, hoping nobody came to check on him.
He set his duffel bag down on his bed after walking over to it, having to climb over the forest of mess of dirty clothes and equipment he covered the floor with. Logan reached into the bag, taking out the results paper.
----
LOGAN BELL
GENDER: MALE
MATH TUTOR: DR. BLANC
SCORE: 23/130 (E-)
STATUS: FAIL
----
"Shit..." Logan mumbles, clutching the paper tightly. His dad would not be happy about this.
"Language, young man." A gentle voice rings behind him, making the athlete flinch. While stumbling over his feet, he turns his body around to face the figure entering his bedroom and gauchely hides the paper behind his back, smiling shyly.
"Oh... hey, Ma." Logan says sheepishly, smiling with fake innocence in his eyes.
"What have you done this time?" Logan's mother sighs, rolling her eyes. She could read her son like an open book; though Logan makes it as easy as reading a picture book, mind you. Logan can't help but smile once again, puckering his lips in blameless fashion.
"Nothin'..." Logan idly kicks at some clothes on his floor, avoiding eye contact. His mother sighs, placing her hands on her hip sternly.
"Logan Bell." She raises her voice a tad, using the full name to intimidate him. Logan, not wanting to get in trouble, lets the papers emerge from behind his back. Guess the original plan of saying they were destroyed won't work this time around.
His mother takes the paper out of his hand, scanning through the text for the contents. After a few moments of Logan twiddling his fingers and the shorter woman glancing at each word to find out what on earth her son was hiding away from her, she frowns.
"Logan Bell." The woman repeats, this time softer. Disappointment was wedged into her tone, and Logan frowned at the name again.
"Sorry." Is all he could blubber out. His voice strained, anxious about the talking to he'd receive later for this. "Cut me some slack? I-I just got home." He suggests timidly, holding his hands together behind his back. Logan's mother was about to protest, until she saw Logan making puppy eyes at her. Unable to resist the adorable nature, she gives in, sighing.
"Fine. But we're still talking about it at Dinner. Be down in 20, okay?" Logan's mother then nods at the boy, slipping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind her.
Logan slumps back into his bed, even more exhausted than after the run. He lays his hands behind his head, letting out a relaxed groan and closing his eyes. What a great day, huh? Boring lessons in school, failed math results, and now both parents are going to give him an earful for it.
Fatiguing, is what it is.
At least Logan could enjoy these 20 minutes alone in peace.
And in the blink of an eye, those 20 minutes pass and Logan has adopted a looming anxiety over his shoulder, along with a bottomless pit in his stomach. Nervous is the farthest thing from what Logan was feeling. Horrified, maybe. The antonym of exhilarated.
His father was... strict. Not mean, but-... okay, a little mean. But he had to be. All fathers were like that, Logan thinks.
It's not unusual to see a father who wants the best for their child. Logan's dad just went above and beyond sometimes. For better or for worse, Logan didn't know. He loved his dad, though.
Walking downstairs may have been one of the most difficult things the athlete will ever have to do. Maybe if he does become an Olympian like Jackson suggested, then it could be topped supposedly. But right now? Logan never thought he had bad anxiety, but this turn of events has surely plugged the idea into his brain.
It was quiet, except for the sounds of silverware clattering against plates as the table was prepared. Logan could make out the faint smell of tomato-y sauce. Like walking into a stylish Italian restaurant, and all that's in the air is the scent of that exquisite spaghetti, that made heads turn and mouths water.
Nothing was much like his mother's cooking. She wasn't a chef, but Logan thinks she should be. Maybe it runs in the family; not going for your potential.
Logan finally peeks his head through the dining room door, seeing his mother smiling and father frowning at the dinner table. His father, grumpy as ever, was tapping his foot against the floor and glancing at his watch occasionally. Had Logan been that long? His father was never a happy man, but he looked more upset than usual.
Had...
...had his mother told him about the exam?
He hoped not.
"Logan." His father calls out, making the boy in question flinch in surprise. "Sit down. We're eating, and you're late." His father orders in a quiet, yet intimidating tone of voice. He points to Logan's designated seat, and the boy obediently walks over to his chair, mumbling.
"It's only been 12 minutes..." Logan begins to speak, though his voice quickly trails off as he notices his father's piercing glare shooting right through his eyes. Logan slouches, backing down and muttering an almost unintelligible apology.
Logan's mother frowns, and then swiftly puts on a smile to better the mood.
"So, Logan. How was school?" She asks nicely, swirling the spaghetti in her fork before taking a satisfied bite. Logan glanced at his father first before answering.
"Was good. Bit... boring today. But nothin' special." Logan speaks shyly, wanting to avoid the subject of school as much as possible. Noticing the strange behaviour, Logan's father raises an eyebrow. The man pauses his chewing, quickly swallowing to get his word in before interrupted.
"Really? Nothing special?" He asks menacingly, shooting daggers at Logan. The boy squirms under the gaze, but attempts to keep reasonably still.
"...Yeah." He murmurs.
"No results?"
"None."
"At all?"
"Nope."
"Logan." His fathers voice suddenly booms through the room, making all people involved stop munching and go silent.
'Shit' Logan thinks to himself. His dad definitely knows about the exam. The athlete glances at his mother with betrayal in his eyes, and the gentle woman can only look away.
"After all we did for you, and you still had to go and fail, didn't you?" His father stands from his seat, and Logan flinches away once again. He didn't want to cower. He wanted to talk back. But the words caught in his throat, preventing him from doing anything about the predicament her found himself in.
"Honey,-" His mother begins to speak.
"Really, Logan? I 'ought to leave you on the streets. You'd like that, would you?" He yells, pointing out at the window and at the rain, scowling menacingly.
"N-No..." He whimpers back.
"Well you sure as hell seem like it. We sacrifice our fucking banks and our fucking time so you can be a complete disappointment?" Logan slouches further, only able to look at his half-eaten plate of spaghetti than was probably much colder now.
"I'm sorry." Logan murmurs.
"Sorry ain't gonna fix your miserable grade, is it? Sorry only makes you feel better." He raises his voice harder. "Well, you shouldn't feel better after that disgraceful performance. I 'ought to let you starve tonight. Feed that food to the homeless. Aren't grateful enough for it, are ya?"
Tears welled up in Logan's eyes, and the sole fact that he couldn't even mumble anything in defence made him feel completely powerless, and tense. He definitely was miserable, his father isn't wrong. He doesn't doubt his father is wrong about the other things either.
-
Wednesday. School. Logan can do this.
Those pesky tears just aren't gonna cut it today, are they? Haven't worked well for him in the past, so he might as well ignore them. Smile, Logan.
At least today was one of the normal days. He had gym first; so off to the swimming pool he goes. No rain at all. So much less miserable. Smile, Logan.
The rainbow symbolic leaves blew in the Autumn breeze, creating an aura of calmness in the contrasting tense environment. He didn't have gym with Jackson that day; he was doing another exam for French. Typical. He would love to spend more time with the guy, but without the proper recourses he can't really do anything about it.
But that's fine too. He has friends other than Jackson. The whole swim team loves Logan; he's the kinda captain. That's what they call him. They don't technically need a captain, but Logan is the best player of the bunch, so he's been appointed their unofficial leader for the time being.
He doesn't mind. It's good to have people who respect you. Especially when it doesn't come from anywhere else.
Walking along the path alone was nice, despite the implications. Solace was good from time to time, if you ignore Logan's extroverted and friendly personality among us peers. His humble nature despite his success in the school. People liked him.
The swimming pool wasn't too far from the school; the school had half-rights and so technically owned the building too. The only people inside should be the other members of the team. And that's exactly what it was.
Logan entered the building, and was immediately greeted by two other members of the team: Liam and Alex. They were chatting with smiles on their faces about some random topic (probably swimming) and were quick to notice the ginger-haired boy enter thanks to their heightened perception. Liam was first to notice.
"Hey, Bell! Over here!" He yells, waving a tall arm towards the boy. Logan smiles widely, striding over to the duo and giving them tough, friendly pats on the back. Almost like a hug.
"Alright, boys? What you waiting out here for?" Logan inquires, and Alex nods behind him.
"Off to change. We forgot our kits, so coach has gone to fetch some spares." The boy replies.
"I fucking hate the spares. I really hope they wash them." They both grimace, and Logan snickers.
"Well, ain't my problem. You boys have fun."
After the short encounter, Logan retreats to the changing room where can hear much more idle chatter coming from inside. With his duffel bag over his shoulder, he confidently barges into the room and greets every person with either a high-five or fist-bump.
"Morning, boys! Ready to rock the water?" Logan yells, earning some cheers from the teen athletes. He laughs boisterously, happy to see his other teammates and comraves. Comrales? Logan's failing English too, by the way.
Everyone in the room was assigned their own personal locker to change at, and Logan's was at the very back of the locker room on the side wall, an "L" sticker he plastered onto the front residing there. He smiled fondly, strutting towards the locker.
Inside was many of Logan's own personal belongings, like towels or random deodorant cans in case any ran out or somebody needed a spare. Spare t-shirts, spare jockstraps, spare everything, really. You could never get too comfortable around here; the fact of people stealing was common knowledge.
Logan stuffed his duffel bag inside, taking out his jockstrap and speedo to sport on when he glides in the water to practice his strokes. The athlete sits down on the bench behind him where many other teens sat, and slowly removed his shirt, feeling somewhat hesitant to do so.
He'd done this a million times before. Today he was just... particularly nervous about removing his shirt. Nothing serious, just a peculiar anxiety.
Maybe he could distract himself? Logan glances around the room, pickpocketing ideas from others' conversations about what he could fog his mind with. He was no stranger to talking to himself; he was one of his own best friends.
But then he sees one friend in particular.
A close friend, but a good friend.
A really good friend.
Like, incredible.
Lucas.
He stood out in any crowd, effortlessly radiating the kind of confidence that made any girl swoon.
Lucas was had a defined appearance, with a tall frame at the result of years spent swimming. Broad shoulders sat next to his neck, a subtle tan to depict how often he spent outside working out and building up his already incredible physique.
The boy's elegant, black locks of hair with tousles strands coming down behind his ears only made Logan want to stare at the physically attractive boy even longer. It's as if time slowed down when he looked beyond and saw Lucas smiling so fondly to himself. It was magnetic.
He had a natural masculine aura, with the muscle on his biceps hinting at the raw power behind his ever move. His abs were usually subtle too, but considering Lucas was changing and lacked a shirt, Logan swore he was drooling.
But... that wasn't obsession, or anything along those lines. Logan simply looked up to him. Even if Logan was the kinda captain, Lucas would be the second in command with no doubt about it. Besides, the athlete needed to get that girlfriend he was promising people.
The taller athlete then began to remove the rest of his clothes, and Logan could do was stare, his face going a faint shade of pink. He smiled bashfully, pressing a hand to his cheek to cool his face down at the sight. This was the moment Logan realised he was probably an ass guy.
But, not for guys. He liked girls. Duh.
"Bell?" A voice rung out beside him. He flinched violently, almost toppling over the bench and into another boy behind him. The voice talking to him was Alex, who had concern on his face. Logan doesn't remember him ever entering the room. He hadn't been staring at Lucas that long, right?
"Uhh... huh? What?" Logan stumbled, raising an eyebrow.
"You got a, umm..." Alex's voice trailed off, and he gesture to Logan's lower-left abdomen. On his skin, a small patch of purple that had had time to blossom over the night was presenting itself to the rest of the team who hadn't noticed that much. Well, except for Alex, of course.
Logan laughed nervously, it becoming quieter as he failed to upkeep the faceless tone.
"It's, you know... just a little bruise. It'll heal." Logan nods, smiling again and looking at his surroundings. He hadn't actually changed yet. He walked in, took his shirt off, then stared at Lucas. Who was... well, he was gone, now. Went for the swim.
"Okay, but how'd ya get it?" Alex asks curiously, almost sounding nervous himself to ask the question.
"Well, that's..." Logan pauses. "I-" Before Logan could answer the question, he was saved by Liam's voice echoing next to them. The boy had a smirk, hands dominantly placed on his hips.
"Bet it's a hickey. It's always a hickey." Liam snickers immaturely, a hand covering his mouth. "And, you know. Logan never hangs out with a girls." Liam continues to snicker, before the ginger-haired athlete interrupts him.
"A guy did not give me a hickey. Ew." He grimaces, and both the others laugh.
"Come on, man. You've had a girlfriend a total of zero times. Has to be a guy. Always knew you were a fag." Liam giggles again, and Alex rolls his eyes.
"Really? It's 2020, nobody says fag anymore. Just say gay." The boy replies, scoffing and finishing up changing by pulling the speedo up to cover himself.
Neither of them during their conversation seemed to notice how pale Logan had gotten. This was for absolutely no reason at all, of course. He wasn't nervous in the slightest. The... that word just caught him off guard a little.
"You see the way he looks at Luke? He's totally smitten." Liam continues tormenting Logan with his tease, knowing he'd get a rise out of the boy.
"Oh fuck you, Liam." Logan suddenly snaps, and Liam immediately raises his hands defensively. None of the trio of athletes expected the reaction out of the former, but that didn't stop him. "Just cause I got no game don't make me a twink." Logan stutters, crossing his arms.
"Chill, dude..." Liam murmurs. "Just kidding. Get a grip, yeah?"
Logan scoffs. He pulls his own speedo up over the jockstrap, finishing his changing and walking out of the changing room into the pool area. The familiar scent of chlorine slapped the athlete in the face, calming him down and relaxing himself to a more stable level.
Invisible mist hung in the air, clinging to Logan's bare skin like fur to a fluffy animal. It was purely a part of Logan's body. Something that if you took it away, would leave the boy feeling empty on the inside, and naked. Well, technically he was already half naked. But that's besides the point.
Logan smiled as he wandered to the edge of the water, sitting down and dipping his legs into the cool, serene liquid. It swished and swirled over his bare legs like a puppy begging for attention. Logan would certainly give the water his attention.
But again, another distraction. By that same, definitely not sexy boy, Lucas.
Before it was thought impossible, but somehow, his body looked even more striking in the sunlight reflected from the water, shining his toned muscles to everyone in the room, highlighting every curve.
Currently, he was lounging at the edge of the pool, his elbows perched on the side holding him up, a smile on his face. His body was relaxed, and still radiating that strength. The contrast between powerful and athletic, and the attractive, majestic vapour stuck to the boys' pecs were encapsulation. Irresistible, even.
Now, Logan wasn't a weirdo. But... he really wanted to remember this moment. Due to the pool being packed with other students, though, he'd have to be discreet, and sly. Just like in home yesterday.
With effortless ease, Logan returns to the locker room, thanking the lord that it was empty and he could do whatever he liked. He tiptoed quickly over to his locker, opening the door and shuffling his hand through his duffle bag to take a device out; his camera.
It was a waterproof one. He wouldn't be snapping from inside the water, but it was an extra feature in case it somehow flew 2 metres into the pool.
He felt a little guilty doing this. If it was any girl in the entire world, he would be sent away to a foreign country and executed for violating the poor girl. But... with a guy? It isn't that bad, right? It's not like he's doing it to be malicious. He just wants some... pictures. For... stuff.
Nothing interesting.
Now that the coast was clear, Logan tiptoed back over to the door to the pool area. he poked the camera through the crack at the door, staring through the viewing lens and determining where Lucas sat. 'Eureka', Lucas thought to himself, the camera lens landing directly on the boy relaxing in the water.
Logan poked his tongue out a little, trying to get the perfect shot. And... and then he got distracted again. Logan zoomed the camera down just below Lucas' waist, shamelessly staring without a care in the world. Logan's speedo was a bold, attention-grabbing piece of clothing, perfectly outlining the physique Logan loved.
The fabric clung to his sculpted form, hugging his thighs, and Logan could only blush. But this was purely experimental. Logan didn't actually like this. It's... science. Yeah.
Snap
Photo taken.
"What the hell?" Directly in front of Logan's camera, a face appeared in the shot. "I fuckin' knew it." A smug voice came through it, and Logan stumbled backwards in fear. It was Liam, because of course it was Liam. He had the biggest shit-eating grin Logan had ever seen the boy have in his life.
"I-I can explain, I... I just..." Logan stammered, his life depending on this one sentence. But the sentence never came. Just like the night before, his voice was caught in the back of his throat, preventing him from speech.
"Come on, I don't hate you for it. But that's fuckin' weird, man. Guess I could call you a fag, huh?" Liam taunts condescendingly, faking his reassurance entirely. Logan couldn't hold back what he'd wanted to do the whole time.
Give Liam a punch in his stupid face.
The boy stumbled backwards, writhing in pain. He let out a yelp, signalling a few people behind him to turn their heads toward the commotion.
Logan stopped.
He looked down at his camera.
He looked over at Lucas.
He looked up at Liam, and his now bloodied face.
And he looked at his reflection in the water beside him.
He...
...All he's doing is proving himself wrong.
He doesn't like boys. Not an ounce. But, why was he doing this? He tells himself it's just for testing, but after Liam's words, he just... he can't think straight anymore.
He needs to be alone.
-
And he cried.
Logan ran away and he cried for the next ten minutes alone; by himself. It's not like he could go to anyone for help.
His father hated him. And... wasn't accepting of the whole 'liking boys' concept as a whole.
His mother wouldn't dare defend him from his father. He couldn't blame her. though.
Jackson was off in an exam, unavailable. And the rest of his team was probably as bad as his father.
Logan wanted to... end it. He wanted to stop thinking about boys the way he does. Because he shouldn't.
He can't.
If he wants to prove himself as an Olympian, he can't be gay either. His public image would plummet down to the depths of the earth, filling with despair at every corner.
So right now...
He feels alone.
And will things get better?
...
Probably not.