Confidently.
His body pressed against mine, and in that moment, everything lit up. A jolt of something raw and undeniable surged through me. For the first time in my life, I felt it.
Desire. Real and vivid and unmistakable.
And yet, even as that spark ignited, guilt rose in my chest.
Maddie was still inside, dancing with our friends, completely unaware.
I felt sick.
But I couldn’t stop.
I wanted more.
I wanted him.
Just… not like that.
Not behind Maddie’s back.
She trusted me.
She didn’t deserve to be betrayed.
It wasn’t just Maddie I was afraid to be honest with.
The idea of my parents finding out terrified me.
They’d never been openly homophobic, but they weren’t exactly open-minded either, deeply traditional, conservative in that quiet, unquestioning way that doesn’t leave much room for difference.
They’d built this image of me: the prodigy son.
Perfect grades. Perfect performances. A future full of promise.
And beside me, the picture-perfect girlfriend, the final touch that made the whole story shine. Being gay didn’t fit into that narrative. It didn’t belong in the life they’d imagined for me, or in the one I was still trying desperately to live up to.
I should’ve had the courage to say something.
To be honest.
But I wasn’t ready.
So instead, I chose the quietest escape I could find.
I applied to the Paris Conservatoire in secret, told no one.
And when they offered me a full scholarship, I took it.
No explanations. No proper goodbyes. I just left. Vanished.
My parents were furious when I eventually told them I’d broken up with Maddie. But the scholarship softened the blow.
They were proud, even relieved, I think, grateful to have something else to focus on. Something neater. Something cleaner than the mess I’d made.
It’s not like they couldn’t afford to support me.
But I didn’t want to owe them anything anymore.
