Chapter Text
“I told myself that I wouldn't let my feelings grow, but every time I look at him, I just can't help it.”
"Dude, that's kinda gay.”
That was Miya, happily licking his melon ice-cream. An absolute airhead when it came to romance, yet so professional when it came to blurting out insults. Sometimes, Langa couldn't help but admire his skills.
Miya stared at the poor lovestruck boy in front of him with an expression unknown to mankind. Was he disgusted? Flabbergasted? Shocked? Wait, that's kind of the same thing. Langa couldn't help but bury his face into his hands. He let out a short, muffled answer, flustered almost.
“You're not helping at all Miya…”
“Well, what do you expect from a thirteen-year-old? Do I look like a marriage counsellor to you?!"
Miya retorted, catching drops of his slowly melting ice-cream with his tongue before it stained his clothes.
“Okay, then who am I supposed to tell?”
Langa suddenly heard someone's phone ringing, not from receiving a call, but from dialing someone.
Miya smugly grinned and raised an eyebrow, proudly showing off his phone, which Joe — being half naked on the video call — picked up, grinning ear-to-ear.
“Miya! What's up budd- is Langa okay?”
Langa was in fact, not okay. He was curled up into a tight ball, rocking back and forth like a person slowly losing their sanity, which in this case, he was.
Miya desperately shrieked, in both horror and disbelief. Langa was suddenly pouncing for the phone in Miya's hand. Joe, trying to grasp the situation, was suddenly intrigued with what Miya had stated. Well not really 'stated'. He was fighting for his life to be free from Langa's feral attacks.
“Langa's in love with someone and he doesn't know what to do! Ugh, It makes me sick! GET OFF ME-”
Miya's desperate pleas for help were suddenly cut off, as Langa — feeling his face burning from embarrassment — clasped his hands over Miya’s mouth, who was now on the ground, screaming and kicking around like a toddler with a tantrum.
Miya continued to kick and shout, slowly drawing the attention of passersby. Finally, Langa, gaining awareness of the commotion they were causing, reluctantly let go of the kid getting pinned down on the gravel.
With a plop, Miya's melon bar dived head first onto the floor.
“NO, NOT MY ICE-CREAM! THIS IS HARASSMENT. YOU BETTER PAY FOR THAT. I BOUGHT IT WITH MY ALLOWANCE.”
Langa shot back, “That’s not the issue! Why did you call Joe?!”
Joe hesitantly intervened with a light chuckle, trying to ease the tension.
“Langa, buddy, whoever this girl is, you gotta hit the gym. That's how the ladies like it.”
Joe disgustingly started flexing his muscles. A familiar voice groaned in annoyance. “Joe… I'm allergic to men who think they're entitled. You're triggering my allergy.” the person stated sarcastically. Langa caught a glimpse of pink strands of hair in the corner of the screen. It was Cherry. Miya didn't want to know what they've been doing.
“You guys are disgusting. Get a room.”
It was at this moment Miya told himself to never associate with people who make him question his sexuality.