For Phalguni, you always seem to know the right things to say, and yet I still seem to twist them into my dirtiest thoughts.

but here is everything I ever wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. Ps. Some of it is dirty :)

*“he burned too bright for this world.”

― Emily Brontë*

Chapter One - Liam’s POV

Everything was perfect, pink ribbons dance across the ceiling pampered by the wind let in by the window. There is a unicorn piñata hanging right above the principals desk waiting to unleash the glitter bomb within and forever be a part the dark green carpet.

Just a few hours ago this office looked like as if Wednesday Addams lived here. But now all the 4 corner of this room is filled with bright colours from the walls to the stationary on the desk. And the best part of it all behind her chair is the cabinet of all the trophies she has collected every year and its her prized possession is one of them “the tristate area basketball tournament” which was won by the most homophobic sports team on our campus and Samantha and her friends have bedazzled it. It shimmers with even the florescent lighting in the room. It’s like killing two birds in one stone.

3 weeks ago

The air buzzed with anticipation as the last days of senior year drew to a close. Rumors of epic pranks ideas circulated like wildfire among the students of Westbrook High, each one more colorful and outrageous than the last. feeling the bittersweet weight of nostalgia mixed with a giddy thrill, Me, Sam and Nate sat around the cafeteria at lunch plotting our own grand finale.

“What about something that completely embodies high school spirit?” Nate proposed, causing Sam to raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Like what? A giant foam finger?” I joked, which sent Sam snorting into her drink.

“Nah that won’t compare to the giant penis hot air balloon we made along with our seniors for last year” Sam argues, she is right, we need to go big or go home this year because it will be our last time to shine before college that is assuming if any of us get in. And that’s when it hit me. I leaned in conspiratorially.

“What if we decorated Principal Henderson’s office with unicorns? Nothing says celebration like a rainbow explosion!”

Samantha stifled a giggle, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Principal Henderson would flip! She’s basically the living embodiment of Wednesday Addams—always dressed in black and white. This could be epic!”

Nate grinned, clearly warming to the idea. “And we should get the whole school involved! If everyone’s in on it, she won’t know what hit her!”

With the scheme taking form, we secrectly spread the word around and everyone gathered decorations with in just a few days colorful streamers, oversized unicorn posters, and a glitter bomb that could rival any magic show. With the mission set, excitement raced through us: this senior prank would go down the day before graduation and probably in history.

End Of Flash Back.

The next morning arrived bright and early, the sun barely kissing the horizon. The team met in the school’s parking lot long before dawn, i could sense my heart pounding with adrenaline and excitement. as the three of us clutched boxes brimming with supplies, eager to unleash the chaos that would soon fill Principal Henderson’s office.

“Remember, be quiet,” I whispered, eyes scanning the empty hallways. “We don’t want to get caught!”

With stealthy movements, we slipped into the principal’s office. Tradically painted in shades of dreary black and white, her office was a reflection of the stern and colorless soul who ruled it. we set to work, layering her dull, drab space with a riot of color. Streamers cascaded from the ceiling, unicorn posters adorned the walls, and a plush unicorn sat flawlessly on her desk, its sparkling eyes a stark contrast to the somber decor. The pièce de résistance—a glitter bomb, carefully crafted from a bucket of sparkles, was placed atop the desk with meticulous precision. and we left it at that before hiding in a near by classroom with all the other students.

“Good morning—what in the world?” Her voice cut through the laughter with the sharpness of a knife. For a split second, her eyes widened in shock, taking in the vibrant cacophony of streamers and rainbows that flooded her office.

The room was transformed from a monochromatic graveyard of the mundane into a fantastical realm of color and joy. She took a hesitant step in, eyes narrowing as her mouth twisted into a livid snarl, the expression reminiscent of a thundercloud ready to unleash a downpour.

“What. Is. This?” The words hissed through clenched teeth, each syllable dripping with fury. as the students pooled out of the classroom and running into the hallway screaming and a few towards the principal’s office to see her reaction.

Me, Nate, and Sam froze, the laughter draining from our faces as Principal Henderson’s response hit us like a wave of ice water. Her hair, typically arranged in meticulous dark braids, seemed to bristle with indignation. The plush unicorn on the desk caught the light as if it had known this moment would come.

“I trusted you all! I treated you with respect! After years of discipline and decorum, you thought it appropriate to insult me with… glitter? Unicorns?”

The realization crashed over us that our prank had turned an innocent celebration into a horrifying nightmare. But to our surprise, the students in the halls, who had been so eager to participate, began gathering outside the office, curiosity painted on their faces, excited murmurs rippling through the crowd.

“You should’ve seen her face!” someone chuckled quietly, biting back laughter.

But Principal Henderson had had enough. “This… this childlike nonsense is inappropriate for a place of learning!” She turned to address the gathering crowd. “And you all should be ashamed!”

One brave soul stepped forward, holding a handmade sign with a glittery unicorn and the words “Color Is Life!” scrawled in bright letters. “We just wanted to show you that school doesn’t have to be so dull, Principal Henderson. You’re more than just a principal—you’re part of our memory!”

The entire hallway erupted in a chorus of support, students cheering for the artistry that decorated the room. Laughter mixed with adoration echoed through the halls, igniting a fire of rebellion against the principal’s usually stoic atmosphere.

“Out of my office! Now!” she thundered, her authority almost cracking under the sheer force of joy that filled the air. However, it was too late; the energy was electric—lively enough to burst through the cracks of her tightly managed facade.

As we the trio cautiously retreated and scrambled to join our classmates, Nate whispered, “We might be in trouble…”

Sam, swept up in the crowd’s enthusiasm, smiled. “Or maybe this could change everything!”

“I won’t forget this!” Principal Henderson shouted, half-exasperated, half-amused, as her foot tapped with an uncharacteristic rhythm on the ground, reluctantly acknowledging the color explosion surrounding her.

As we tried to slip out into the hallway, I caught a glimpse of her fighting back a smile, her lips twitching, betraying the hardened exterior she had maintained all these years. A sense of triumph rushed through me as students rallied together in a wave of laughter and community spirit.

In that moment, as they celebrated the ridiculousness of it all, I couldn’t help but feel the sweetness of victory. We had turned the tables on Wednesday Addams, making her confront the vibrant spirit that lay just beneath the surface of Westbrook High. We had reminded her that sometimes, life needed a little color—glitter, unicorns, and all.

“Oh and Liam, I know it’s you behind this!”

Everyone has disappeared into their classes all of a sudden leaving me on my own, even nate and sam whispered a sorry before hurrying along.

Principal touches the trophy

“I looks even better this way now. now off to your class Liam!” She smiles.

I over hear her and that alone is enough to make me feel better.

In The Last Class

“if you could love someone till their last breath who would it be?”

Asked Mr. Ajay. While he fixes his glasses up and drops the piece of chalk on his table and dusts his hands off with a clap and smiles. To his unsurprised face, no one answered,

And I was too invested in hearing the ticking of the clock that echoed throughout the classroom, just waiting for it to strike 3, and when the bell would ring: and we all would be rescued from Mr. Ajay's class, and highschool forever.

Right now I’m sure that almost everyone in this class except me and people with actual interest on this topic would be thinking about why they even chose literature as one of their AP classes. I for one chose it solely to help me get into a university and major in their writing program.

People like to label people.

If your too quite people think your onto thinking about ending the world, too loud, you will at some point end the world without having the intention to… or without. if you stay in the middle you are assumed to be entitled to do so, or you could do something else like cure cancer, and save the world from another global pandemic like covid.

Or-

“I think Mr. Campbell over here has deeply. Pondered over the question I asked and is ready to give us his opinion on it.”

Mr Ajay smiles in his usual sarcastic way, but the truth is it means more than that, if you have taken his classes for a few years you know what exactly that smile means. I know your distracted, tell me why smile.

And he is right, I’ll give him that. I have no idea how long he was standing next to my desk given that he was resting his hand on my desk as his neatly manicured nails drum in a rhythmic pattern on my small wooden desk which barely is able to fit all my text books.

I look at him, the same old Mr Ajay. Colourful sweater, formal pants and round gold rimmed classes so big it sometimes covered his eyebrows. Overall he comes off as a nice person, that is, until you have sat in one of his classes. I clear my throat and fix my posture from leaning on the desk with an arm support my chin to sitting up straight and adjusting my black leather jacket.

‘sorry Mr, Ajay I-“

“nah ah!” he shut me down

“an apology isn’t what I asked.” He continued

I bite my lip and look around to see everyone looking at me like hawks who have been starved for months and I’m the only snake they found to feast one after a long time.

“contrary to popular believe I don’t have anyone that am romantically interested with”

"Aw not even me?" Says Dan, while dangerously leaning onto his chair which is bent towards my direction. A few giggles fill in the silence

I turn my head towards him and fold my arms

"And definitely not you."

Now the class erupts with laughter and the last bell of the last day in junior year finally rings. Everyone gets up from their tables, everyone hands up in the air, and rush out through the door

"Be careful now! You’re going to be seniors."

There is a chorus of yes sir as the classroom begins to empty out. I slip out of my own chair and walk into the hallway.

The final bell had rung, signalling the end of Senior year at Westbrooke High in California. The hallways buzzed with excitement as all the students poured out of classrooms, eager to embrace the freedom of summer break, and the seniors school forever. some where crying hugging their friends and the others throwing papers high in the air and running around in the hallways. Among them were my two best friends who run up to me, Nate jumps in for a big hug and Sam follows him.

“dude we did it we survived!”

I let out a chuckle with a smile too big for my face. Sam laughs as she tucks a lock of her hair from her bangs behind her ear.

“I can’t wait to get out of here”

I nodded “then what are we waiting for?”

Me, with my jet black hair and freckled cheek and a perpetual grin with sharp canines on display, have always been the life of the party. Nate, the laid-back skateboarder with a passion for art, and Samantha, or Sam as we like to call her, the bookish yet adventurous girl with a love for the ocean, completed this trio of friends that seemed like an unlikely combination but we have become inseparable over the years.

We walked out of the school gates, the California sun bathed everything in a golden glow. I have been known for the senior prank I came up with last year.

We painted our P.E teachers props pink, and replaced the coach’s clothes with pink shirt and a tutu. The both were the kind of people who believed in toxic masculinity, it was lovely to see how fragile theirs was when the prank took place. For Mr. Ajay’s class we had locked the door with a lock which only open if you recite the entire Macbeth script.

and this year we set up colour smoke bombs in the principal’s office because the only colour she wears is black, at the end of the day her entire office looked like a exploded rainbow or unicorn vomit.

"Guys, we should kick off summer with a bang!" I insisted

Nate raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind, Liam?"

Sam chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Yeah, spill the beans, Liam."

I pointed towards the nearby beach, where the waves beckoned, and the smell of salty sea air teased my senses.

"How about we head to the beach?"

Nate shrugged. "I'm in if you promise not to pull any of your crazy stunts."

I flashed him a cheeky smile. "No promises, Nate."

With our decision made, we strolled to the beach. The sand was warm beneath my bare feet as they made we way to a quaint ice cream stand nestled under a colourful umbrella.

Sam ordered her favourite, a scoop of sea salt caramel in a waffle cone. Nate went for double chocolate fudge, and I opted for lavender honey. With our ice cream in hand, we settled on a patch of sand, facing the endless blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

The sun cast a radiant palette of colours on the horizon as it began its descent, and seagulls circled overhead.

Nate picked up his sketchbook and started to draw the breath-taking scene before them.

Sam leaned back, closing her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face and the soft caress of the ocean breeze.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows on the beach, I think that this was the beginning of something special. Summer had officially begun, and it held promises of new adventures, and countless sunsets like the one we were witnessing. I wipe off the sweat on my forehead and complain for the hundredth time how it is.

“fuck, I feel like I am a melting not in a good way either”

Sam is the first one to reply to my complaints as usual with her thoughts and precisely what’s the problem. She could make a great therapist or a doctor with expertise in diagnosis.

“yea it wouldn’t be the case if you didn’t dress up for a funeral every day.”

Nate laughs as he lets his back slap onto the hot sand below him

“I can’t help it its my style, besides its popular” I say in my defines.

Nate chimes in

“not sure about that, beige colours are the latest trends these days, unless you are a “The Addam’s Family” fan, which reminds me I think I know why are principal always wears black.”

“yes especially if you live in sunny California and don’t want to be melted like a wax figure, like exhibit A” says Sam as she points at me.

I let out a frown curling my eyebrows. As they both burst out in laughter.

Our ice cream long gone, we decided to take a leisurely walk along the shoreline,

Reminiscing about our last day as juniors

“Liam” says Nate as he puts his arms around my shoulders

“hmm” I say.

“i can’t believe we graduated highschool”

“you mean you can’t believe, you graduated highschool cause mine and liam’s grades are perfect.” says Sam.

me and nate just ended up laughing at what sam had to say, it was true though.

our laughter filling the air. We watched as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a canvas of vibrant oranges, pinks, and purples.

It was the perfect end to our Highschool days, and the perfect beginning to an unforgettable summer and university life. No matter wherever life takes me, I would always have these precious moments – the memory of the sunny beach, the taste of ice cream, and the warmth of our friendship – to hold onto. I have everything anyone can think about, but I can’t help but feel like I am missing something.

Liam’s POV

Traffic is at its all-time worse in California, especially during the rush hours, but today it was different, way different than I anticipated, the entire street towards Olive Street Drive lay almost empty, with just a few cars flying past me. I turned off my ac and rolled the windows like a maniac. because who even opens their windows in the dessert at 98 degrees outside? Me.

I could still feel the heat wave in the wind brushing past my flushed cheeks, and across my sweaty forehead. I lick my lips, the taste of seawater lingered mixed along with the sweet flavour of sprinkles and chocolate.

summer is here in all her glory, which also means that the last day of high school is over. I start to drive down the familiar streets, I grew up in. Bruno Mars’s from the radio fills in with the whooshing sound of the air. The sun has almost disappeared into the horizon, splattering the sky with hues of orange and pink, like a painter’s brush accidentally spilling vibrant colour on a blank canvas as the city lights start to come alive. But It doesn’t take me long to drive into the suburbs of Los angles. I drive along the similar looking homes along the street, white walls, grey doors, a few flowers here and there, I drive down until I find the only house with the blue door. I pull into the drive way and bring the car to a halt. I check my phone, it’s just 6pm, I know I’m running late for the family barbeque night, but I can’t seem to move from my seat, I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion that has taken over me, or the peace and quite here. The smell of freshly cut grass still lingers in the air even after a week after me and dad cut it.

I take a deep breathe in and out, maybe it won’t be too bad tonight as the air has yet to carry the weight of the arguments.

I really wish I was over at nates or Sam’s but they both are busy with their own families celebrating their one way ticket to colleges as they both got accepted to the same university of their choice. they already received their acceptance letter a few weeks ago. but I have yet received mine. I try to not think a lot about it. But it just makes me wonder, I have the perfect grades and attendance and the perfect SOP to sell it. But I have not even received a rejection email from any of the universities I have applied to.

I wonder what the hell I am going to do with my life if I can’t even get into a decent college. I swiftly unbuckle my seatbelt and head outside the car and lock my car with the button on my keys.

I look up to see the familiar silhouette of the 2 story house loomed against the twilight sky, windows glowing warmly like watchful eyes in the dusk.

I walk towards the main door on a stone pathway across the front yards with grass overgrowing on the sides. Reluctantly I grip onto the door as I swing it open and stepped inside. my shoes squeaking softly against the dark wooden floor, and the comforting aroma of mac and cheese wafted through the air. Which was surprising since we were having a barbeque to celebrate my graduation. Surprising the entire house was quite except the sound of utensils in the kitchen. an unusual tension hung in the atmosphere, coiling around my chest like a constrictor, suffocating and tight as I walk into the kitchen to find non other than Jake cooking mac and cheese in his pajamas, ever since he came over for a week to spend his semester off from college he has been in a constant dreadful pajama streak, his dark hair a mess. Which is surprising as he has never ever been this way, he has always been the most high maintance guy in our family.

“Hey, Liam,” he says without even batting away his dark brown eyes as he stirred a bubbling pot, the steam rising like lost hopes into the air. His eyesbrows furrowed staring into the endless into the pot of brewing mac and cheese.

“How was the last day?” Jake’s forced smile which didn’t quite match his eyes, it felt like a mask slipping off too suddenly. And this is when I am worried.

“Fun. Just the usual. I thought you wouldn’t be home until later,” I vaguely answer,

a cautious note threading through my words. Something was off.

Jake sighed, glancing at the clock as if it were a judge holding court over their evening. As he scratches his head.

“I had some things to handle,” he said cryptically, dishing out steaming noodles into two bowls, the scent obscuring the subtle dread in the air. The half hearted humour he attempted to inject felt like a wilted flower, lacking life.

“You know how mom can’t resist making the mac and cheese from that blue box.” Jake says as he handed me a bowl.

I nodded, looking for a sign that this was just an ordinary evening. But I quickly realized that too much silence settled over Us as we ate, the usual banter absent. It was like watching shadows play on the wall, constantly shifting but never revealing the truth beneath them.

Later, our parents set up the backyard for a barbecue, an uncharacteristic atmosphere of calm drifting around us, almost surreal against the backdrop of a thousand scattered memories. I struggled to recall the last time we had all sat together without arguing—each moment etched in my mind like a photograph, now smeared. A voice within me whispered urgently that this tranquility was simply the calm before an inevitable storm, a deceptive stillness brimming with tension.

“Smells great, doesn’t it?” dad said, flipping burgers on the grill, the sizzling sound punctuating the silence like a cracked metronome. His cheerfulness felt like an empty shell, devoid of warmth. I forced a smile in return, as my insides tightening as i watched my parents’ forced laughter—a thin veil over the anxiety that trailed them like a ghost.

I watched as they moved around the yard, each trying to mask the tension with forced laughter. But their eyes told another story, one that stirred deep apprehension within me.

After dinner, as the fairy lights blinked above us like broken stars scattered across an indigo sky, My parents motioned for me and Jake to join them on the patio. The shadows stretched and twisted around nate as he took a seat, a heavy weight settling in my stomach, a stone lodged in my throat—foreboding.

“Liam, Jake.” mom began, her voice thick with emotion, like honey gathering in a jar before spilling over, “we need to talk about something important.”

Dad’s gaze swept over all of us, sincerity mingling with sorrow, an ocean of complex emotions swirling behind his eyes. “Sons, your mother and I... we've decided to divorce.”

The words hung in the air, heavy as lead, the truth washing over me like icy water from an unyielding lake. I sat in stunned silence, My mind spinning like a whirlwind, each tick of the clock echoing louder in the background. “Divorce? But…”

“We’re going to be living in different places,” dad continued gently, crafting each sentence like fragile glass. “Your mother and I have decided that she will move to the UK with you. I’ll stay here with Jake.”

A deep ache welled inside my chest, spreading like wildfire. Part of me found solace in the thought of peace—the endless battles, the shouting, the slamming of doors soon to be silenced—but a larger part of me was engulfed by dark sorrow. but that means I would have to leave behind everyone.. and the place I’d called home every day of my life.

“Dad…” I choked out, the truth heavy on my tongue. The words tangled up inside me, unable to take flight like tethered birds straining against the weight of their own chains.

Unable to bear the intensity of their gazes any longer, I fled from the porch, running to my room, breath coming in shaky bursts. my heart raced, thumping wildly as if trying to escape the tempest of feelings crashing down on me. I would lose everything.

But as I lay on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut against the encroaching darkness, I felt a soft knock at the door. It creaked open, revealing Jake, his face calm yet resolute like a lighthouse guiding ships through a storm. “I’m here, Liam.”

“Why is this happening?” my voice quivered, caught between confusion and rage, an unsteady tide. “It’s not fair.”

Jake stepped inside, a cardboard box tucked under his arm, an object of painful potential. “I know, I know it’s not fair,” he agreed quietly, setting the box down as if it weighed the world. “But sometimes, it’s for the best. This is a chance for Mom to start anew, and we can’t hold her back. I’ll help you pack.”

As we began to sort through my belongings, stacking clothes and trophies in the boxes,

Jake spoke in soothing tones, reminding me that he would always be there for me, even if they were separated by miles. “We’ll find a way to stay connected, I promise,” he reassured, but the thought of it felt distant, like sunlight peeking through clouds on a stormy day. but i already knew it was a lie, ever since Jake moved out for college he has always been distant and now the distance adds more weight.

The next morning, the world felt thick with heaviness, the air heavy as a blanket draped over me. dad even tried to converse with me but i refused to say a word as mom maneuvered the car through the streets toward the airport, the familiar landscape outside a blur of memories threatening to unravel. The radio played soft songs, their melodies catching in the back of my throat and suffocating me with nostalgia—the soundtrack of a life forever changing.

“Just think, you’ll be living in the house I grew up in,” mom said, trying to sound cheerful, her gaze flicking to me like a candle flickering in the wind.

But all I felt was emptiness—a hollow void where my childhood once flourished. The familiar streets blurred outside the window, morphing into an uncertain and daunting future. I saw Nate and Samantha in the airport who came to say goodbye—standing like pillars of steadfastness in the chaos, but the words of farewell floated away, evaporating before settling in the air.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Nate said, his enthusiasm a forced mask, while Samantha hugged me fiercely, whispering, “We’ll visit, I promise.” Their words felt like lifelines thrown into a turbulent sea, yet I struggled to grasp them.

As me and mom boarded the plane, glancing back one last time, memories flashed before me—the birthday parties, the summer nights, the laughter that once filled the rooms now echoed hollow. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pressed my forehead against the cool window, feeling the vibrations of the plane as it prepared to lift me into the unknown.

As the plane ascended into the sky, clouds swirling beneath us like a sea of cotton, I mourned the stark departure from the life I once cherished, acutely aware that whatever awaited me in the UK would never replace everything I had lost. Amidst the roar of the engines, a whisper of farewell brushed against my heart, urging me to remember that home was not just a place, but a tapestry woven with the memories and love left in wake.

.