SEBASTIAN
I don't know why I said it. Or maybe I do.
I had planned to tell him soon, maybe tomorrow night when we’re out with the others. But the right moment is now. I want him to know before anyone else, even if that's not the only reason.
As he speaks, his voice thick with emotion, describing his father’s unconditional love, a kind of love I’ve never known, I realize just how much I trust him. And in that moment, I feel it with absolute clarity: Remi is sharing something deeply personal. Something he doesn’t offer lightly.
So I decided to meet him halfway. To give him a part of myself that I haven’t shared with anyone else.
Remi stares at me, stunned. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide.
The silence stretches, feeling like forever. Just as panic begins to rise in my chest, his hand reaches across the table and covers mine, the one that’s just started to tremble.
His touch steadies me. Our eyes meet again, and in his warm, amber gaze, there's no shock.
No judgement. No discomfort. Only understanding, and something else I can’t quite name.
“Oh, Seb…” he says softly. “I’m really honoured you shared that with me. I’m surprised, yes, but more than anything, I’m grateful for your trust. We haven’t known each other long, but I hope you know you can always count on me. I care about you. As a friend… and just as you are.”
I flush, warmth rising to my cheeks, spreading through my chest. I lean in slightly, my hand still resting beneath his.
“Remi, your words mean more than I can say. I know coming out shouldn’t be a big deal these days, but… you never really know how people will react.”
His brows draw together, concern flickering in his eyes.
“Seb, I hope no one ever made you feel unsafe. Or less than.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. I kept a low profile in Paris, but I still had my fair share of bad experiences. The arts world is more open, sure, but prejudice still finds its way in.”
His jaw clenches. He’s clearly upset on my behalf, and even if I don’t fully understand why he cares this much, the way my heart flips in my chest tells me I’m glad he does.
“Seb… can I ask, did anyone else know? I mean, back in Paris?”
“Yes. A few people. Quietly.” I pause, then meet his gaze.
“But you’re the first person I’ve told since moving back here. My parents don’t know. And neither does Maddie.”
His eyes widen again. “Wait… is that… is that why you left? Why you broke up with her?”
I nod. I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. Not yet.
Then Remi gently lifts my chin until our eyes meet again. His gaze is impossibly kind.
“Seb… why didn’t you tell her? She would’ve understood. Maybe not right away, but in time. Maddie’s stronger than people give her credit for. And if not her, then Anne. You didn’t have to go through it alone.”
He doesn’t sound angry. Just... sad. Sad for me.
“You were on your own, in a new country, facing all of that without support. I’m so sorry, Seb. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
“You’re sorry for me?” I ask quietly. “You’re not mad about what I did to Maddie?”
“Mad? No. Of course not. You were a kid. And Maddie had people. Anne, her family, then Noah, Jamie… and me. But you? You left everything behind. You didn’t have anyone.”
He pauses, then shrugs, a little self-conscious.
“Sorry. I probably have no right to say all that. I’ve never been in your shoes.”
“No, you’re right. It would’ve been easier if I’d come out then. But I was terrified. Confused. I didn’t even understand it myself until… well, until Ian.”
Remi stiffens. “Ian?”
“Yeah. It was just a kiss. We were outside a club, and… he kissed me. I didn’t even see it coming. But it hit me like a freight train. Nothing else happened, I swear. I would never have cheated on Maddie. But that kiss... it made everything click.”
Remi seems to relax a little, but I don’t stop.
“I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. Especially not my parents. Honestly, I’m still not sure I am.”
I lift a hand and cover my face, overwhelmed. Before I can retreat any further, Remi gently pulls my hand away and places his over it, steady and warm. Then he reaches up and touches my cheek, and without thinking, I lean into it.
“Seb… I can’t pretend to understand everything you’ve been through, but I admire your strength.
You faced it. You didn’t run from who you are, even when it was hard. That takes courage.”
I look up at him, caught in his gaze. He keeps speaking, his hand still warm against my cheek.
“And just so you know, your sexuality doesn’t change a thing between us. It’s yours to share, when and how you choose. I won’t say anything to Maddie or the others. But whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there. Right beside you.”
I sit up a little straighter.
“I trust you, Remi. I really do. And you’re right, I don’t want to keep hiding. I want the people in my life to know me for who I really am. I want to be able to fall in love without being afraid. I want to have what Noah and Jamie have.”
He smiles, gentle and sure.
“And you will. I believe that.”
Something flickers in his eyes then, something soft and unfamiliar, but it’s gone before I can quite place it.
We let the conversation drift, easing into lighter topics. The tension lifts. We laugh again.
And when we walk home, it’s in silence, but a silence that feels warm. Quietly intimate. Safe.
Just as we’re about to part ways for the night, Remi turns back suddenly.
“Seb… the play tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for convincing me to go. It was… it was worth it.”
I don’t say anything. I just wait.
After a pause, he goes on.
“You know, I always thought I was open-minded. I’ve never had a problem with people being gay. But tonight, for the first time, I didn’t just understand. I felt it. That kind of love… It's just love. No labels. No conditions.”
His cheeks flush. I feel something twist in my chest.
And before I can stop myself, I step forward and wrap my arms around him.
Remi stiffens, just for a second, then melts into the hug.
I rise slightly onto my toes, my mouth close to his ear.
“Maddie’s lucky to have you, Remi.”
Then I let go, turn away, and head for my room without looking back.
Not until I reach the door.
And when I do glance over my shoulder, he’s still there,
frozen in place, wearing an expression I can’t quite read.