Everyone's Watching

Chapter 6:

By Thursday, Elias could barely look at Rowan without remembering how it had felt to stand under that balcony—how Rowan had looked down at him like he already knew the truth Elias couldn't say out loud.

"Your chemistry is insane," Marley whispered during lunch, eyes gleaming like she'd just witnessed a plot twist in a K-drama. "You two were practically levitating."

Elias shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth, chewing until it hurt. "We're acting."

Camila raised an eyebrow. "You don't act like that unless it's real."

"Camila," he warned.

She shrugged, unbothered. "I'm just saying. You've never lit up like that when you're opposite Marley."

Marley grinned. "Rude, but true."

Theo wandered over then, tossing his lunch tray beside them. "So. Are we all pretending Elias and Rowan aren't having some kind of gay Shakespeare crisis?"

Elias nearly choked.

"Okay, wow," Marley said, blinking.

"Too far," Camila said, flicking her straw wrapper at him.

Theo smirked. "You're right, sorry. Elias might still be in denial."

Elias slammed his water bottle onto the table. "Can we not?"

The table went quiet. Theo gave him a rare, serious look. "Hey. I'm not trying to be a jerk. I just... know what it's like to pretend too hard for too long."

It hung there, unspoken. Theo's older brother had come out their senior year—after transferring schools and nearly flunking out. Elias had overheard the fallout in church whispers and PTA murmurs.

Elias looked down at his tray. "We're just scene partners."

No one pushed. But no one disagreed either.

Rehearsal that afternoon was strange.

The usual laughter and chaos was still there—costume malfunctions, missed cues, Mr. Kessler yelling, "Project or perish!"—but Elias felt it all from a distance. Like he was watching his life happen through glass.

Rowan didn't push. He didn't even speak to Elias until their scene.

"Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" Rowan asked, his Juliet voice softer today, vulnerable.

Elias forgot to breathe.

"What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?" he whispered.

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

And for a second, Elias's real voice almost answered. Not Romeo's. His.

After rehearsal, Elias escaped out the back, heart pounding.

He didn't get far before he heard someone call, "Wait."

Rowan.

Elias stopped near the side doors. The sun had started to set, brushing gold across Rowan's cheeks.

"You don't have to run every time I look at you," Rowan said, not unkindly.

"I'm not running."

"You're hiding, then."

Elias crossed his arms. "Do you ever turn it off? The confidence? The... knowing who you are all the time?"

Rowan laughed, but it was a little sad. "No. But only because I've already tried being someone else. It didn't work."

Elias looked away. "I can't afford to be someone else."

Rowan's voice was gentler now. "Is it your parents?"

Elias hesitated. "It's... everyone. My family. My church. My pastor. My dad prays over my SAT scores. My mom told me boys like you go to hell."

Rowan didn't flinch. "My mom said the same thing."

"You still came out."

"I had to. It was either that or keep disappearing."

A bird chirped from the trees above the theater. Elias couldn't speak.

Rowan took a step closer. "I'm not asking you to come out, Elias. I'm just asking if you're still in there."

That broke something. Elias blinked too fast, his throat thick.

"I don't know," he whispered.

Rowan didn't answer.

He just nodded, and left him standing there.

That night, Elias sat in the sanctuary after youth group. The lights were dim. The stained glass above the altar filtered blue and red onto the pews.

He opened his Bible again, hands trembling.

Psalm 139:13–14.

"You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

He used to believe that without question. Now he wasn't sure what part of him was fearfully made, and which parts were just... mistakes.

His phone buzzed on silent.

Rowan Chen:

> sorry if I crossed a line.

i just hate seeing people shrink to fit someone else's idea of holy.

Elias didn't answer.

But he read it again and again, until the stained glass turned black with night.