The Touch - Rewrite

“I think he’s coming around.”

My father’s voice reached me first, distant and muffled, like it had to push through something thick just to get to me. “Just breathe, Zyan. You’re safe now, buddy.”

Safe didn’t feel real yet.

Everything was heavy. My body, my thoughts, even the air felt harder to pull in as I struggled against the fog pressing down on me. My chest hitched as I tried to follow his voice, to hold onto it, until finally my eyes fluttered open and the world came back in pieces—light, movement, the shape of his face above me.

My father was looking down at me, his expression soft but tight around the edges, like he was holding something back. His thumb brushed gently across my cheek before he pulled me closer against him, grounding me as the shaking started again.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“There’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for, baby boy,” he said immediately, his arms tightening without hesitation.

Before I could respond, I was shifted again, pulled into my mother’s lap as she gathered me into her arms like she couldn’t get me close enough. Her embrace was tighter, more desperate, her hand cradling the back of my head as she pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“We’ll love you no matter what,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “What brought this on, baby boy?”

Heat flooded my face as I buried myself against her, pressing into the soft fabric of her blouse, her familiar floral scent filling my senses. My hands curled into her shirt as I tried to hide from the question.

“He thinks he’s worthless.”

Kyan’s voice cut through everything, sharp and furious, and I flinched at the sound of it.

“He thinks he’s nothing but a disappointment,” he continued, his anger barely contained.

“What?” My mother’s voice broke as she pulled me tighter against her. “I would never think that about you, Zyan. Never. Nobody here would.”

“The Monster does,” I said quietly before I could stop myself.

The words slipped out, and silence followed.

My mother leaned back just enough to look at me, confusion filling her expression. “Monster?”

I nodded, my throat tightening as the weight of what I had said settled in. This was it. Now they would see it. Now they would understand.

“Lauren—”

My father’s voice changed, something sharper slipping into it. His hand moved to the back of my shirt, lifting the fabric before I could react.

Panic hit instantly.

“No—!”

I twisted, reaching back frantically to grab the fabric, but my father caught my hands before I could pull it down. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to stop me.

“Easy,” he said, low and controlled, something darker beneath the calm.

My mother pulled me closer as I struggled, trying to hide, trying to make it stop.

“Holy shit,” Kyan muttered.

“Come on, Kyan,” Greg said firmly from nearby.

“But—”

“We’ll talk outside.”

There was a brief pause before footsteps moved away and the back door opened and closed. I barely registered it. My chest was heaving, my hands trembling as my father shifted me into his lap.

“I need to take your shirt off for a moment, Zyan,” he said quietly, and I froze completely at the words. There was something in his tone—controlled, but edged with anger—that told me it wasn’t meant for me.

“Natalie?”

“I’m right here,” she said softly as she knelt beside me. Her hand brushed a tear from my cheek, her expression calm and steady. “Just breathe for me, okay? Your mom and dad aren’t judging you. They just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, even though everything in me wanted to fight it, to run, to hide. Instead, I stayed still.

My father lifted my shirt slowly, carefully, giving me time to panic, to brace, to regret letting any of this happen.

Then the air hit my skin.

My mother gasped.

My father went completely still behind me, his arms tightening just slightly before his hands moved again, slower now.

“Who could do something like this…” my mother whispered, her voice shaking as her fingers hovered over the scars before finally touching them. “My poor baby…”

I couldn’t look at them. I stared down at my hands instead, waiting for something to change.

Instead, they pulled me closer.

My mother wrapped her arms around me from the front while my father held me from behind, their grip tight, unyielding, like they were trying to make up for something they had never seen before.

“We’re never letting anyone hurt you again,” my father said, his voice low and controlled, filled with something that made my chest tighten. “I swear it.”

“Don’t ever be ashamed of this,” my mother added softly, pressing her cheek against my head. “These don’t make you broken, Zyan. They prove you survived.”

The words didn’t fully sink in, but they didn’t hurt either.

They held me there for a long moment before my father finally pulled my shirt back down over me, his hands lingering briefly as he settled me back against his chest.

“So…” my mother said after a moment, glancing toward Natalie as she steadied her voice. “Would something like a therapy animal help with this?”

“It could,” Natalie replied gently. “It would help him recognize when things are starting to spiral before they get this far.”

“I’m broken,” I whispered.

My father’s arms tightened around me as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “We love you anyway,” he said softly. “And that doesn’t make you broken. It just means you’ve been through more than you should have.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure how to.

After a moment, my father shifted slightly. “Are you still hungry, buddy?” he asked.

My stomach answered before I could.

It growled loud enough that everyone heard it, and for a second there was nothing but silence before my mother let out a soft, shaky laugh. Natalie smiled, and my father’s quiet chuckle followed as he adjusted his hold on me.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stood, keeping me close while my mother and Natalie moved ahead toward the house.

By the time we made it back outside, the energy of the party had shifted.

Or maybe it was just me.

The music still played from the stage, steady and familiar, and people were still scattered across the yard talking and laughing, but it all felt a little farther away now. Quieter at the edges. Like I wasn’t standing in the middle of it anymore, even though I was still right there.

My dad didn’t put me down right away. He carried me across the yard, his arm secure around me as my mother stayed close at his side, her hand brushing lightly against my back every few steps like she needed to make sure I was still there. Natalie walked just ahead of us, guiding the way back toward the tables before glancing back to check on me.

Kyan was already waiting.

He had moved away from the house at some point, settling near the side of the stage where the noise wasn’t as loud, where fewer people gathered. The second he saw us, he straightened, his attention locking onto me immediately.

“You good?” he asked, already stepping closer.

I didn’t answer right away.

My dad lowered me carefully to my feet, but his hand stayed on my shoulder, steady and grounding as I tried to find my balance again. The world didn’t feel like it was spinning anymore, but it still didn’t feel completely solid either.

“I’m okay,” I said quietly, even though it wasn’t completely true.

Kyan didn’t argue. He just studied me for a second before nodding once, like he accepted it for now.

“Sit,” he said, motioning toward the small cluster of chairs and blankets he had pulled together.

It wasn’t a suggestion.

I sat.

The space was tighter than the rest of the yard, more contained. Deedra and Casey were already there, both of them looking up the second we joined them. Sheldon sat nearby with Tatum and Heath, while Chad and Gavin were off to the side, mid-conversation until they noticed me.

Everything slowed again.

Not the party—but the way people reacted to me.

“You okay?” Chad asked, stepping closer, his voice quieter than usual.

I nodded, keeping my eyes down for a second. “Yeah. Just… needed a minute.”

“That’s fair,” he said, not pushing it.

Deedra shifted closer on one side of me, Casey on the other, both of them careful without making it obvious. It wasn’t suffocating. It just… closed the space in a little.

Kyan dropped down on Casey’s other side, but he angled himself toward me, one arm resting across the back of the chair behind me like he needed to stay within reach.

Nobody said anything about it.

They didn’t have to.

Toby was missing from the group, and it took me a second to realize why. I glanced around briefly before spotting Greg walking along the edge of the yard, Toby curled against his shoulder, already half-asleep. Gavin noticed me looking and gave a small shrug.

“He crashed,” Gavin said quietly.

I nodded, something about that easing a small piece of the tension sitting in my chest.

The conversations around me picked back up slowly, but they stayed lighter now. Casey and Deedra started talking about something that had happened earlier, pulling me into it just enough to keep me present without putting me on the spot. Sheldon and Tatum drifted into their own conversation again, while Heath stayed mostly quiet, listening more than anything.

Kyan didn’t say much.

He didn’t need to.

Every time I shifted, every time I glanced up or looked away, he noticed. Not in a way that drew attention—but enough that I knew he was watching, making sure I was still there, still okay.

I wasn’t used to that.

Not from someone my own age.

It should have felt strange.

It didn’t.

It felt… steady.

“Do you guys mind if I steal Zyan for a few minutes?”

Sarah’s voice cut in from behind us, pulling everyone’s attention up at once. She stepped into the small circle with an easy smile, her eyes landing on me first before flicking briefly to Kyan.

I hesitated.

Kyan shifted immediately, like he was about to stand.

“We’ll be right back,” Sarah added quickly, her tone light but intentional. “I’m just going to give him the stuff we talked about earlier.”

Kyan held her gaze for a second, like he was weighing it.

Then he nodded.

“Alright,” he said, but his eyes came back to me. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

I nodded, even though my chest tightened a little at the idea of stepping away from the group.

Sarah held her hand out to me.

I took it.

Her grip was warm, steady, and she didn’t rush me as she led me away from the circle and back toward the house. The noise followed us for a few steps before it started to fade again, the shift noticeable as we crossed back inside.

“What stuff?” I asked quietly, glancing up at her.

She smiled, something a little mischievous slipping into her expression as she glanced down at me.

“What?” she said lightly. “I can’t give my little brother a birthday present?”

I blinked at her, confusion pushing through everything else for a second. “When did you even have time to get me anything? You didn’t know I was going to be here until last night.”

She laughed softly.

Then, without warning, she scooped me up into her arms like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Zyan,” she said, a small grin pulling at her lips as she carried me down the hall, “I’ve been buying you a birthday present every year for the past decade. Just in case you came back.”

I stared at her, the words hitting harder than I expected.

“Really?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she said, her tone softening just a little as she pushed open her bedroom door. “Really.”

Sarah carried me down the hallway like it was nothing, like I hadn’t just had a complete breakdown minutes earlier. One arm was hooked under my legs, the other steady at my back, and I didn’t even think about asking her to put me down. I just held onto her, still trying to process what she had said.

Ten years.

She pushed her bedroom door open with her shoulder and stepped inside, setting me down unceremoniously on the middle of her bed. I let out a small laugh as I bounced slightly against the mattress, the sound surprising even me as she moved past me toward her closet.

“Alright,” she said, already pulling open the door like she had been waiting for this moment for years. “Moment of truth.”

I sat up a little straighter, wiping the last traces of dampness from under my eyes as I watched her reach inside and pull out two large green plastic totes. She carried them over one at a time and set them in the middle of the floor before stacking one on top of the other.

I stared at them.

“You kept all of them?” I asked quietly.

She glanced back at me with a small smile, like the answer should have been obvious. “Of course I did. What, you think I was just going to throw them away?” She nudged the top tote lightly with her knee before looking back at me. “I didn’t know when you’d come back… but I knew you would.”

Something in my chest tightened again, but it didn’t hurt this time.

“Now,” she continued, clapping her hands together once as she shifted back into her usual energy, “do you want to start with the oldest, or the newest?”

I hesitated, glancing between the two containers like the answer mattered more than it probably should have. “Oldest,” I said finally.

Her smile softened just a little as she popped the lid off the top tote. “Good choice.”

She reached inside and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box, holding it out to me. The paper was bright blue, a little crinkled with age, and tied with a thin white ribbon that had been carefully knotted.

I took it slowly, my fingers brushing over the surface like I could feel how long it had been waiting.

“Go on,” she said, a hint of excitement slipping into her voice.

I pulled the ribbon loose first, setting it aside before carefully tearing into the paper. The box underneath was simple, but covered in uneven coloring—crayon marks that didn’t stay inside the lines, colors layered over each other in a way that didn’t quite make sense.

I looked up at her.

“I was six,” she said immediately, rolling her eyes. “Cut me some slack.”

I laughed softly before opening the box.

Inside was a small teddy bear.

It fit perfectly in my hand, soft and worn in a way that told me it had been handled more than once before being wrapped. Its tiny black eyes caught the light from her lamp, and I just… stared at it.

A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.

Sarah crossed the room without hesitation and sat down beside me, her hand coming up to wipe it away before I could even try. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “You’re not supposed to cry.”

“I’m happy,” I said quickly, my voice catching anyway as I looked down at the bear again. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” she interrupted gently, pulling me into a quick hug and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You don’t have to explain anything. I get it.”

I held onto the bear a little tighter, letting the feeling settle instead of fighting it.

It didn’t feel like something I had lost.

It felt like something that had been waiting.

She pulled back just enough to look at me again, her expression lighter now but still warm. “So… do you want to keep going, or do you want to save the rest for later?”

I hesitated for a second, glancing toward the door before looking back at the totes.

“Can we keep going?” I asked quietly.

Her grin came back instantly. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

She reached into the tote again, already pulling out the next present as she handed it to me.

By the time Sarah and I made it back outside, the sky had started to dim, the golden light of the afternoon giving way to something softer. The music still played near the stage, but it had shifted too—slower now, less overwhelming, blending into the background instead of standing out.

Casey spotted me first.

“There you are!” she called, already moving toward us before I had a chance to settle. Her hand found mine without hesitation, and she pulled me along with her like she had done it a hundred times before. “You disappeared on us.”

“Sorry,” I said quietly, glancing back once at Sarah before letting myself be guided toward the group again.

“You’re fine,” Casey said quickly. “You didn’t miss much. Sheldon’s still trying to convince everyone he can get us a group discount for the amusement park.”

“That’s because I can,” Sheldon argued as we stepped back into the circle. “If we get enough people, it actually works.”

“It does not,” Tatum said, shaking his head.

“It does,” Sheldon insisted.

I smiled a little as I settled down between them, Deedra shifting closer on one side while Casey stayed on the other. It felt easier this time—not perfect, not completely steady—but not like everything was pressing in on me anymore.

Kyan didn’t say anything when I sat down. He just moved closer, angling himself so he was within reach again, his knee brushing mine as he settled. Every so often, his eyes flicked toward me, checking without making it obvious.

I didn’t pull away.

“So,” Deedra said, leaning toward me, her voice lowering slightly like she was letting me in on something. “My parents finally booked everything for Paris this summer. Flights, hotel, all of it. It’s actually happening.”

Sheldon glanced over. “You’ve been talking about that for weeks.”

“Because it’s Paris,” Deedra shot back, like that explained everything. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before her focus shifted back to me. “But honestly, I’m more excited about tomorrow.”

I blinked. “Tomorrow?”

“Varsity Choir,” she said, nudging my arm lightly. “I heard you’ve got a solo.”

My stomach flipped.

Before I could respond, Chad leaned forward slightly, a grin already forming. “Oh, it’s more than just that,” he said. “We’ve got something planned. Big enough that people are actually going to remember it.”

“What does that mean?” Casey asked immediately.

“You’ll see,” Chad replied easily, clearly not giving anything away.

I glanced over at Kyan.

He was already looking at me, his expression steady.

“I can’t wait to see it,” he said. “You’re going to be amazing.”

My face warmed, but I didn’t look away this time.

Across from us, the conversation shifted again, bouncing between summer plans and half-formed ideas about getting everyone together. Sheldon and Tatum went back to arguing about the amusement park, Heath adding quiet comments here and there while Gavin drifted between conversations like he didn’t want to miss anything.

I didn’t say much.

I just listened.

And this time, I tried to picture it—not just being there for a moment, but actually being part of it.

The night started to wind down slowly after that. It didn’t happen all at once, just small changes that added up. Parents calling names, people checking their phones, groups starting to break apart as rides were ready.

Deedra hugged me first.

“I’m serious,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Don’t even think about backing out tomorrow. I’m watching you.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

“You better not,” Sheldon added as he stepped in next. “We’re holding you to it now.”

“I’ll be there,” I said again, a little more certain this time.

Chad was last.

He didn’t say anything at first when he stepped closer. He just pulled me into a hug, tighter than the others, like he didn’t want to let go right away. My face warmed slightly before he pulled back and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Zyan,” he said with a grin.

My face burned.

“Y-yeah,” I managed, watching him step away.

The next shift hit harder.

Greg and Natalie.

I saw them before they reached us, Greg carrying Toby against his shoulder, the little boy completely asleep. Gavin broke off from the group and moved toward them as they approached.

Something in my chest tightened immediately.

Natalie didn’t hesitate. She pulled me into a hug the second she reached me, and I held onto her tighter than I meant to, something in me wanting to go with them, to go back to what I understood.

“Hey,” she murmured softly, like she already knew. “It’s okay.”

I nodded against her shoulder, even though it didn’t feel okay yet.

“You’ve got all week,” she continued. “You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

“What about Toby?” I asked, glancing toward Greg.

“He’s going to be fine,” she said with a small smile. “He’s already trying to convince us to foster another kid so he can have a brother again.”

That made something twist in my chest.

“And you’ll be at the concert tomorrow?” I asked.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” she said without hesitation, pulling back just enough to look at me before kissing my cheek. “I promise.”

“I love you,” I said before I could stop myself.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Gavin hugged me next, quick and tight. “See you tomorrow, dude.”

“See you,” I said quietly.

Kyan’s arm slipped around my side again as we watched them head toward the driveway. He didn’t say anything, just stayed close as Greg got everyone into the car.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until the car started moving.

The moment it pulled away, something in me cracked.

I sniffled, trying to hold it back, but it didn’t work. The tears came anyway, quiet at first before I wiped at them quickly.

Kyan didn’t make a big deal out of it.

He just pulled me closer.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

I nodded against him, clutching the small teddy bear in my hand as he guided me back toward the house, staying close enough that I didn’t have to face any of it alone.

By the time we settled into the living room, the house had gone quiet in a way the backyard never had. The music was gone, the voices faded, and what was left felt softer, contained, like everything had finally slowed down enough for me to keep up with it. The lights were dimmer here, casting a warm glow across the room as everyone found their places without much discussion.

My dad sat first, pulling me down with him so I ended up tucked against his side before I could think about where I wanted to sit. My mom settled in on my other side almost immediately, close enough that her arm brushed mine as she got comfortable. I didn’t move away. I wasn’t sure I could have even if I wanted to.

Sarah and Kyan took the other couch, though Kyan didn’t stay relaxed for long, leaning forward slightly like he needed to keep me in view. Uncle Derek stretched out in a chair off to the side, looking more at ease now, while Aunt Abby returned with a blanket and draped it across the back of the couch. The TV came on somewhere in the background, but I didn’t really register what we were watching.

I held onto the small teddy bear, my fingers curled into the soft fabric as I leaned into my dad’s side, letting the quiet settle around me.

“You know,” my mom said after a few minutes, her voice gentle as she glanced toward me, “Natalie showed me a video earlier.”

My stomach dropped, and heat rushed to my face before she even said anything else.

“It was from school,” she continued, her tone warm but not pushing it. “You were at the piano.”

That was enough.

I knew exactly which one she meant.

I ducked my head slightly, pressing closer into my dad’s shoulder as my grip tightened on the bear.

“I didn’t know you could play like that,” she added softly. “You’re really talented, Zyan.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” I muttered, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.

My dad’s chest shifted slightly with a quiet chuckle. “Sounds like it was.”

“It was,” my mom said, not missing a beat. “And I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

That didn’t help the heat in my face.

Across from us, Kyan’s voice came in, lighter but steady. “You’re going to be amazing,” he said, like it wasn’t even a question.

I didn’t answer, but I didn’t pull away either.

The room settled again after that, the quiet stretching out as the movie played on. My mom’s hand found mine at some point, her fingers threading gently through mine, while my dad’s arm stayed wrapped around me, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles against my side.

It should have felt easy.

Instead, something tight started to build again in my chest. Not sharp, not overwhelming—just there, lingering under everything else. Too much attention, too much closeness, too much of something I still didn’t feel like I deserved.

“Are you okay, Zyan?” my mom asked softly.

I hadn’t realized I had started shaking again.

“I’m okay,” I said quickly, even though it wasn’t completely true.

My dad’s arm tightened just slightly around me, steady without holding me in place. “You don’t have to pretend,” he said quietly.

I swallowed, staring down at the teddy bear in my hands as my fingers tightened around it.

“But…” I started, my voice catching.

My dad’s hand came up gently, two fingers resting against my lips to stop me. “There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change how we feel about you,” he said calmly. “Nothing.”

I hesitated, then glanced over at Sarah and Kyan. They were both watching me, and Kyan gave a small, firm nod, like he didn’t need to say anything out loud for me to understand.

I looked away first, shifting slightly so I could curl more into my dad’s side, letting my head rest against him. My mom’s hand stayed in mine, her thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles in slow, steady motions.

The feeling didn’t disappear.

But it didn’t take over either.

My eyes started to drift closed as the sounds of the TV blurred into the background, mixing with the quiet rhythm of breathing around me. The warmth on either side of me kept me grounded, even as everything else started to fade.

I expected the usual when I let go.

The darkness. The voice.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, there were small, quiet pieces of the day—faces, voices, moments that didn’t hurt when they surfaced. My mom’s smile. My dad’s arms around me. Kyan standing close enough that I never had to look far to find him.

My grip on the teddy bear loosened as sleep finally pulled me under, my breathing evening out as the tension in my chest settled into something quieter. I stayed where I was, held between them, the weight of the day fading without the usual fear waiting on the other side.