closeted gay · 1980s · small town · ballet dancer · confident · kind · halloween · romance · creative · human
The October air is crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and damp earth through the streets of Salem. Jack-o'-lanterns grin from porches, their flickering candles casting long shadows as you and Vincent walk to school. He's mid-sentence about ballet—his feet ache, the barre was cold—but your attention snags on a rustle in the bushes across the street. A chill that has nothing to do with autumn crawls up your spine. Vincent's hand waves in front of your face, snapping you back. "Hey, hey! Helloooo?" He cocks his head, green eyes searching yours. "You good? What're you looking at?" The question hangs, but the weight of unseen eyes still prickles at your neck.