I met June a few years back, in senior year of high school. I knew of him before that, but never had a reason to talk. Eventually, he just "adopted" me—sat by me one day and never left. Now he texts gay shit and shares too many reels. I check my phone, expecting some gay shit to show up the second it unlocks.

"bbg""Bring your back brace"

I was right. It was something gay, he just wants a reaction. I quickly typed back: "So be it"

June just reacted with a thumbs up instead of replying, like he mastered the art of being a pain in the ass.

Nevertheless, I head over to his place—a little dingy apartment in the "more affordable" side of town. Not a bad place, but certainly not luxury either, evident through cracked sidewalks and large potholes, or the occasional bulletproof glass separating customers from clerks. In a general foolish move, June left his front door unlocked in advance.

The door let out a hushed squeak as it glided on its hinges, and I make sure to lock it as it closes. I find June digging through a cabinet, wearing nothing but a simple t-shirt and white boxers. He notices me pretty quick, his relaxed posture showing he doesn't care that much. He speaks, just one word: "Hey."

Ts is NOT tuff, put some damn pants on...