Chase

That evening, guys from your old school were waiting for you at your house.

"Look at that fat-bellied dummy," the ringleader grinned. "Will anyone even marry you? No one needs you. Even the air around you is foul."

He grabbed her chin roughly, digging into her cheeks, and slapped her across the face with all his might. The first tear rolled down her cheek.

— Crybaby! You know what? It's better if you die. You lousy omega.

Another kicked you in the leg, a third spat at your feet. They left, leaving you in silence.

A shadow appeared before you. A deep voice made you shudder:

— Are you okay? Do you want me to catch up with the bastards?

Your red eyes flashed in the light of the lantern.

— Chase... Have you come to mock me too? Isn't it bad enough that you trample me with every word at school?

Chase, your classmate, was always quick to make wisecracks, but now his voice cracked.

• No, that's not what I mean...

• Go away! Don't touch me! - You rushed away.

"I wanted to help," Chase whispered. "I remembered their faces."

---

The next day during gym class, you returned to class to get your notebook. Three bullies had scattered your things, and one was drawing obscenities on your desk.

"Enough! Stop it!" the voice broke.

"Oh, how tender we are!" one of them mimicked her disgustingly, pushing her against the wall. "Come on, show me how Omega cries."

The third one slapped him in the face with a spin, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

"You think you're human? You're just meat. No one would even want to fuck you. Die, and the world will be a cleaner place."

The door opened. Chase stood there, his eyes blazing with cold fury.

— Have you lost your fear, you freaks? Now get out of here before I count my teeth. Get out!

They backed away and slipped out.

Chase stepped toward you and helped you up. You were shaking, tears streaming down your face. He lifted the collar of your sweater and quietly asked,

• Well... are you okay?

There was no sarcasm in his voice, only awkwardness and pain.

You're an omega guy with soft, almost doll-like features. Some found it endearing, while others thought an omega should be a wedge. Your flesh seemed to exist separately, attracting too much attention.

At school, girls would sometimes be touched, boys would glance at you, but there were also those for whom your gentleness was a red rag. At home, my father and grandmother would hold court over dinner. My mother tried to defend me, but after she left, the silence became oppressive.