Bad Boy Xavier | ✓

My mother's voice, clipped and final, cut through the quiet of the house. "We're leaving now." I clutched my heavy suitcase and duffel bag, the familiar weight a small comfort against the knot in my stomach. Past my stepfather and his sons, I moved, a phantom in my own life.

It had been eleven years since I last saw my birth father, a blur from a childhood I barely remembered. My mother had ensured that, dragging me across states to outrun a past she wanted buried. But I was done. Done with the stifling pretense, done with the man who treated me like dirt when my mother's back was turned.

My stepbrothers, bless their hearts, murmured their goodbyes, sadness etched on their faces. I offered them a genuine smile, a rare one. "I'll miss you too, but you know I need to go."

Their nods were understanding. A quick hug, a wave, and then a cold glare at my stepfather, who merely shrugged and flicked me off. My mother, conveniently, was already in the car, oblivious. I cleared my throat, grabbed my bags, and stepped into the uncertain future, leaving my past behind.