My Pink Shirt (bxb)

Chapter 1

Trigger Warning: Bad words used against gays

Pink Shirt (etc.) ✔️
Hair ✔️
Breakfast ✔️
Teeth ✔️
Bag ✔️

Today was the first day of senior year, and I was so glad that this was the last year of school. For me, anyways. I wouldn't have to deal with --ugh-- James.

James was my personal bully, you could say. Not that it really matters. I mean, you have to do/say something really bad for me to actually give a fuck.

"Dad, Pops, I'm leaving!" I called.

My dad came into the living room, smiling. "Picture first?"

"Sure, why not?" I shrugged.

Leo, my dad, was the mother out of the two. He cooked dinner, made sure I was okay when I was sick, etc.

My pops/father, Blu, got me into sports. That didn't last very long, though. I lost interest in it pretty quickly.

However, I was still muscular due to the fact that I work out every now and then. I wasn't that lazy...

My dad gave me singing lessons. If I'm being honest, he could have been a singer instead of a journalist.

Since my dad gave me singing lessons when I was young child, I was pretty good at it myself. I didn't think much of it, though. I wasn't in choir or any club, as a matter of fact.

"Ash!" My dad said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"Smile," my dad ordered, and I obeyed.

When I heard the click, I stopped smiling and sighed happily.

My father came into the living room, and kissed my dads cheek. "You torturing Ash with pictures again?" He joked.

"Shut up," my dad mumbled, playfully.

I smiled, fondly. "Alright, I have to get going."

"Have a good day, kiddo," my father said.

"Thanks, pops." I then walked out the front door.

My parents had bought me my own red Camaro. I absolutely loved it.

It was a good day out like almost always in California. After my parents graduated college in Wisconsin, they moved back here and adopted 5 year old me.

I strode over to my car, and got in. As I put on my seatbelt, I burnt my finger on the metal part.

"Shit," I muttered, sucking on my finger to take the pain away slightly.

I soon shrugged it off and put my keys in the ignition, the engine roaring. I then started driving to hell-- the high school.

I wasn't popular in school --hell no-- but I did have a good amount of friends.

The ones I really cared about (that sounds really bad) are Isaiah and Seth.

Now, they're both smart, but they're so clueless. They like each, but are to shy to admit it to one another. Skinny love.

Just then, I arrived and parked in a random spot in the parking lot. I got out, grabbing my bag from the passenger seat.

I shut my door, and locked my car. As I walked towards the school, James laughed and pointed at me.

"Hey, gay boy!" He called.

James had been bullying me ever since second grade. All because I wore a pink shirt on the first day.