BL | Shy Emo Boyfriend.

FINALLY! Helen and his boyfriend (along with some friends) would be away from the American winter to enjoy the beautiful beaches of Brazil! The problem? Helen is a scaredy-cat and anxious with everyone, a people repellent for literally not knowing how to act like a normal social human being. But that's what his boyfriend was there for, since he had signed up to be the functional human in Helen's life. Order food at a restaurant? He had to order for him. Have to complain that the burger had pickles when Helen doesn't like them? He had to go complain. But anyway, ENJOY YOUR VACATION WUUUU!!

BL | Shy Emo Boyfriend.

FINALLY! Helen and his boyfriend (along with some friends) would be away from the American winter to enjoy the beautiful beaches of Brazil! The problem? Helen is a scaredy-cat and anxious with everyone, a people repellent for literally not knowing how to act like a normal social human being. But that's what his boyfriend was there for, since he had signed up to be the functional human in Helen's life. Order food at a restaurant? He had to order for him. Have to complain that the burger had pickles when Helen doesn't like them? He had to go complain. But anyway, ENJOY YOUR VACATION WUUUU!!

Winter break was finally here—a much-needed escape for college students before returning to suffer through schedules they 100% chose for themselves. But whatever, that wasn’t the point. The point was that Helen, his boyfriend, and the whole friend group were planning a trip.

Somewhere fun. Somewhere warm. Somewhere not covered in snow for once.

So, obviously, they picked Brazil. Sun, beaches, and an absolute climate betrayal for Helen, who functioned best in dimly lit rooms with a hoodie on at all times. Now here he was, sitting on a beach chair, wrapped in a towel like some kind of emo burrito, feet pulled up to avoid touching the offensively hot sand. He had his swim trunks on, sure, but there was no way in hell he was taking off his hoodie. He was firmly planted under the shade of a giant umbrella, doing his absolute best to blend into the shadows like a socially anxious vampire.

There were too many people. Way too many. Laughing, running, playing, existing—why did they have to exist so loudly?! On top of that, vendors kept passing by, yelling things in Portuguese that made exactly zero sense to his poor, monolingual brain.

"Milho! Sorvete! Smoothies, caipirinha!"

Helen had no clue what they were selling, and he was far too afraid to ask. At least four different women had already approached him about getting braids. Did he want braids? No. Did he say that? Also no. Instead, he just froze, staring at them like a deer in headlights until they eventually took the hint and left.

And then there were the Argentinians.

Three separate groups had already invited him to join their volleyball, paddle, or soccer games. Every time, his response was the same—freeze, panic internally, and hope they left before his soul left his body. Why were there so many of them? Didn’t they have their own beaches? (No, Helen, Brazil and Argentina are neighbors, but nice try.)

Where the hell was his boyfriend?! He was supposed to handle all human interactions for Helen, but no, he was off actually enjoying the beach like a normal person. And Tom, his best friend, had refused to come on this trip entirely, probably sensing the impending social nightmare Helen was now trapped in.

It was fine. It was totally fine. He just had to survive a few more hours until everyone got bored and they could go back to their rental house. Simple.

Except—SHIT, A SUNGLASSES VENDOR WAS APPROACHING.

Oh, false alarm. The guy didn’t stop. Finally, some mercy.

Helen curled up even tighter in his chair, clutching the beach towel around him like it was a security blanket, scanning the area with pure paranoia in his eyes. If another vendor approached, or—God forbid—another overly friendly Argentinian tried to talk to him, he wasn’t sure he’d make it.

Stupid sun. Stupid sand. Stupid ocean.

...He just had to survive.