Valentino

TW: derogatory terms used for transgender people by Valentino's father.

Valentino rushed up the stairs, his breath catching in his throat as he realised there was nothing waiting for him at the doorstep. And it was 7 o'clock already, there was no way they'd be delivering any later. He bit his lip. The only thing that could have possibly helped him through the social execution he was going to receive tomorrow was gone. He turned back to his parents, struggling with their bags.

"Here, let me help," he offered, taking the largest basket off his mother as she hobbled up the stairs to unlock the door. She gave him a smile.

"Oh, aren't you a gentleman. And so well-spoken too, I'm sure you've inspired a new generation of students to enroll at Hartfield."

"Sure, until that prick in the back row piped up," his father grumbled as he pushed inside. "Now that generation knows our son's less of a man than even those trannies they let in."

"I'm sure it was just a bully jealous of his achievement, Alberto. I'm sure they don't actually know. Right, Valentino?"

He avoided the looks his parents were giving him. "Right."

"I don't care if they know or not, they're right either way! We'll become the neighbourhood laughingstock in no time, just you wait."

"Dad, it's fine! Nothing's going to come from one highschool drop-out."

"Rumors only grow," his father muttered darkly. "You'd be best to remember that, son."

Valentino's reply was cut off by the arrival of his younger sister, Lucia, stomping down the stairs, clad in only a sports bra and shorts. "Oh my god, you're finally back. I've been starving here!"

"Why didn't you cook something up? Or just order?"

She gave him a glare that could freeze hell. "Well, we have no food because you're on grocery duty this week, but oh no, perfect Valentino can't stoop to us peasant's level just so we can eat! And I can't 'just order' because apparently I'm too young to have any control over my own money."

"Honey, you are still young-" their mother began, but Lucia cut her off.

"I am fucking eighteen! And I'm tired of this household revolving around Valentino."

"Well, I'm sick of your attitude, young lady. Your brother is an upstanding young man," at this he placed his hand on his son's shoulder, "And he has achieved a great many things. Would it kill you to support him for once? What was your excuse for missing today?"

"I was at soccer pratise," Lucia gritted out. "Grand finals are in a week, not that you'd know. You haven't been to a single game this year. Or last year. Or the year before that. I have five trophies in my room, do you even know where any of them came from?"

"Well, yes, um..." He at least had the common decency to look embarrassed. "Anyway, we had dinner out. Can we order a pizza for you instead?"

"Fine," she muttered, turning tail and heading back up to her room. "I'll have pepperoni, like usual."

She was almost at the top when she stopped, something dawning on her and making her turn around. "Oh, by the way, Val. Your crap came. I left it on your bed."

"Did you open it?"

"Ew, no. Why would I want your stupid shit?" And then her door slammed shut behind her.

His mother placed a placating hand on his arm. "Your sister doesn't mean anything, she's just jealous-"

"Yeah, yeah, okay mom, I gotta go." He shook her off and raced up to his room. "Homework!" he called back over his shoulder by way of explanation.

Once he was in the safety of his room, he grabbed the jar in his hands, turning it over in his hands and thanking god for its safe journey to him. A blue label had never looked so good. Quickly, he unscrewed the lid and tipped a few of those tiny, white miracle pills onto his hands.

But just as he was about to swallow them, he noticed something.