Under the skin I didn't choose

Chapter 1 - Broken Mirror

Ezra’s room was dim, barely illuminated by the blue light from his computer monitor. The clock had already read two in the morning, but he hadn’t been able to sleep all night. It wasn’t the first time it had happened to him. Insomnia was no longer a stranger, but a permanent guest.

He stood up slowly and walked to the bathroom. The mirror was waiting for him, tall, indifferent, cruel. Ezra stopped in front of it, taking a deep breath. He knew what he was going to find, and yet he couldn’t help but look at himself.

His sunken eyes watched him with a weariness that was more than just physical. He ran his hand over his chest and, for a second, thought about tearing off his skin.

“You’re not enough,” he murmured, barely audible, as if the phrase had become the voice of memory.

He moved away quickly, as if it burned, and he opened the medicine cabinet to take out the bottle of pills and slammed it shut without taking any. He didn’t want to admit he needed them, he didn’t want to admit anything.

He returned to his room and sank onto his bed, sinking into the sheets, trying to erase that image in the mirror from his mind. The reflection wasn’t him, never had been. It was a distorted prison, a sentence he’d learned to survive.

On the nightstand, his cell phone vibrated. It was a new email,“Alumni meeting - This Saturday.”

He read it once, read it again, and laughing, he thought, What was the point? Seeing faces that never understood him again? Going back to being “that weird, depressed girl”? And being the target of ridicule again because of his physical appearance, which didn’t match how he really wanted to present himself to others.

He placed the cell phone face down. He closed his eyes, with the same phrase, repeating itself in a loop, like an echo:

You’re not enough. You weren’t enough then. And you’re not enough now.

Sleep overcame him, that idea embedded in his skin. Outside, the city was still alive, but for Ezra, the world was reduced to a broken mirror and a name he still couldn’t speak with pride.

Chapter 2 - The Invitation

The sun was slurring through the loosely closed curtains. Ezra turned in bed, pulling the blanket up over his head, trying to prolong the darkness a little longer. His cell phone was vibrating on the nightstand with notifications acknowledging receipts from others, reminders from the alumni chat, and more noise he preferred to ignore.

He finally picked it up, reluctantly, to ward off the silence. In his inbox, the subject line stood out like an accusing finger, “Alumni meeting - This Saturday.”

He opened it.

The words were written with enthusiasm, filled with exclamation points and promises to “meet again like old times.” Ezra felt a knot in his stomach. Old times? For him, school wasn’t nostalgia, but scars. Hallways filled with laughter that was always knives in disguise, names that were never his own, looks that reduced him to a shadow.

He put his cell phone aside, and he stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, debating with an invisible enemy.

You won’t go, it’s pointless, you’d only open wounds.

But another voice, faint, whispered in the background.

What if this time is different? What if no one remembers enough to hurt you?

Doubt settled in like an unwelcome guest.

He got up to get some water. In the kitchen, the microwave mirror reflected a distorted reflection of his face, and he immediately avoided it. He didn’t want to look at himself, he didn’t want to think about what others would see if she showed up at that meeting.

“They’re going to laugh again”, he murmured, on the verge of tears.

Yet the email was still there, buzzing in his memory like an insistent buzz. He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning against the table, trying to drown out the noise.

He knew that if he decided to go, it wouldn’t be to reunite with anyone, but to face himself, and that was, perhaps, the most terrifying enemy of all.

Chapter 3 - Old Wounds

The event hall was filled with warm lights intended to create a welcoming atmosphere, but to Ezra, it all felt like a ghost exhibition, every laugh, every exaggerated greeting made him shrink further. He walked among the groups, invisible, his hands in his pockets and his gaze lowered.

And then he saw it.

Leo.

He wasn’t the clumsy, mocking boy he remembered, he was taller, self-assured, with the same sparkle in his eyes that had irritated him for years, but now without the cruel edge. Still, Ezra felt a chill run down his spine. The memory of every taunt, every hurtful comment, every push disguised as play, came rushing back.

“Cath?” Leo’s voice cut through the air. He sounded surprised, curious, and almost kind.

Ezra hesitantly looked up. For a moment, his whole world shrank to those eyes, so easy to read and, at the same time, so impossible to trust.

— ...Hello —he murmured, his voice more depressed than he intended, due to the use of his deadname, but I couldn’t blame him, he didn’t know that he no longer used that name.

Leo smiled, a little awkwardly, and took a step forward.

“I didn’t recognize you at first with your hair that short...” He laughs gently, patting him on the back, but Ezra listens intently, as if each word weighed tons.

Ezra swallowed. Every memory from the past mingled with the present and clouded his mind, he felt the distance between him and everyone else growing larger every second, and that Leo, though different, stood as a reminder of what he had always been, vulnerable, small, and insufficient.

“Yes... I’ve changed my look a bit,” he finally replied, his voice faint and guilt piercing him. Why was it so hard to accept a simple smile, a cordial greeting?

Leo was silent for a moment, watching Ezra without pressure, as if he understood that there was much more than words between them.

—Well, I’m glad to see you, I guess... —He looks at him with a smile despite how lethargic Ezra looks—

That was enough to make Ezra feel a mixture of fear and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, hope? He wasn’t used to someone looking at him without judgment, and that look disarmed him as much as it terrified him.

He stepped back slightly, seeking refuge in the crowd, and muttered to himself.

It’s not him... he can’t be treating me like this after all.

But something small and shy in his chest refused to go out.

Chapter 4 - The Corridors of Memory

The soft music in the hall barely managed to cover the murmurs and laughter of the alumni. Ezra moved with cautious steps, feeling as if every corner was filled with echoes of the past. Every familiar face reminded him of something he’d rather forget, cruel nicknames, shoves in the hallways, looks that reduced him to a shadow.

When Leo appeared at his side again, with a group of old friends, the memories hit him hard, they weren’t happy memories, they were knives disguised as nostalgia, every gesture Leo had made during his childhood —a practical joke, a sarcastic comment, his remarking on the appearance of his body that he disliked so much— all those memories returned so vividly, mixing with the curiosity and kindness he now showed.

—Do you remember when you... — Leo began, despite Ezra looking at him coldly, he didn’t hesitate to ask his typical awkward question— ...wanted me to be your boyfriend in high school?

—He laughed softly, unaware that memories of the past could hurt.

Ezra responded sharply, barely raising his voice.

—Yes. I remember perfectly.

The silence fell between them like a tangible weight. Ezra noticed Leo’s breathing, along with his awkwardness in communicating with someone who clearly wasn’t having a good time around him, already doubting his intentions.

Every step that followed between the groups was a reminder of his own vulnerability. The corridors of memory stretched out before him, endless, filled with words that had marked his skin more than any physical blow. And there was Leo, a living presence of what had hurt for years.

Ezra swallowed. His heart was pounding, a mixture of fear, anger, and something indefinable he refused to name.

—I remember how you left me without an answer... —he sighed— I don’t know what I was expecting...

—he whispered, more to himself than to Leo.

Leo looked at him patiently, without pressure, as if he knew that behind that wall there was a world that wasn’t ready to open up.

— Wow... I don’t remember it like that... —he said to himself—

Ezra half believed him, distrust clung to his chest, but for the first time in years, something inside him didn’t run away, something wanted to stay and watch.

And as the music continued, Ezra realized that the corridors of memory could hurt, but they could also be a bridge, he just needed to decide whether to cross it or not.

Chapter 5 - The Unexpected Message

That night, Ezra sat at his desk, his back hunched, his head full of memories. The school reunion had ended hours ago, but his mind kept going over every gesture, every word. Every time he remembered Leo’s look, his chest tightened with a mixture of irritation and something he couldn’t name.

The cell phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced at it, hesitating before picking it up.

A new message:

“Hey, Cath. Is everything okay? I was wondering if I could talk to you some more.” —Leo.

Ezra felt a chill. The message was simple, almost innocent, but it stirred a mixture of terror and surprise. He ignored it at first, leaving it on the table. He knew any response might open a door he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross.

Minutes, maybe hours, passed. Every notification sound made him jump. Finally, with trembling hands, he opened the message and began typing a short reply:

-I’m... GOOD. Thank you.

And he sent it to him.

The cell phone vibrated again almost instantly, another message from Leo.

“If you want, we can talk for a while tomorrow. All you need is a cup of coffee. No rush.”

Ezra stared at him, the thought of meeting Leo again terrified and tempted him at the same time. His instinct told him to stay away, that the past was a labyrinth he never escaped without pain, but something small, almost imperceptible, pushed him to accept.

“Maybe...” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. “Maybe I went too far, maybe I was too rude”.

He leaned back in his chair, his cell phone on his chest, feeling a faint, trembling thread of hope begin to make its way through the mistrust and fear.

That night, before going to sleep, Ezra put his phone aside and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what it all meant, or what would happen the next day, but for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to imagine a painless encounter... even if it was just for a moment.