"Hurry up with that trash, runt, before this pizza gets cold!" Cole shouts at me as I gather up all the stray trash in the pizzeria to dump it for the night.

I stop in front of the back door that leads out to the parking lot with two trash bags in my hands that probably weigh more than I do and drop my head down.

Cole's voice is like nails on a chalkboard. He's always an ass, but tonight he's been piling on an extra helping of jerk, and like the perfect sidekick, his brother Corey is always right there, arms crossed, and glaring at me like he's waiting for a reason to squash me like a bug.

I push through the door and breathe in the cool outside air. It feels good outside, and relief floods through my body as the door shuts behind me. They can't see me out here, and, more importantly, I can't see them, or hear them, or feel their threatening stares at my back while they plan some horrific way to torture me.

It's always been a battle with them, even before my mother died. They resented her. She was strong and fierce, and the only mistake she ever made was marrying their father. They hated her because of that. They still hate her, and by proxy, they hate me, which is evident in the way that they treat me. It started small, but over the years, their cruelty has known no bounds.

Tonight, they've taken to pushing me around all night, giving me unnecessary chores and hovering over me as I perform them, and belittling me in front of customers. You name it, they did it. But this moment is a much-needed reprieve. They think I hate taking out the trash, but besides the times I'm out on deliveries, carrying the trash out is my only break from them at the shop. The shop that my mother started from the ground up. The shop that I have always thought I would run some day, but somehow, my stepfather has snatched it up from right underneath me.

I'd been too young to take over when my mother passed, and he'd stepped in. Once upon a time, I'd thought he would give it back to me someday, but I know better now. I know that now, it belongs to him. And like the true nepotist that my stepfather is, he put Cole and Corey in charge of it.

They really are the stepbrothers from Hell, too. It isn't enough to take my birthright from me; no, they have to demoralize me, too. They have to constantly remind me that I'm stuck cleaning and delivering pizzas in the crappy delivery car because they think they're smarter than me due to feeling whatever legal loopholes they jumped through to keep the pizza shop away from me are far above and beyond my own understanding. And I can't afford legal help, anyway, even if I knew where to start. The measly paycheck they give me is barely enough to be called minimum wage.

At the sound of footsteps coming my way, I scurry forward, beelining to the dumpster and making quick work of tossing in the bags before going back inside to grab the finished pizza and address for the delivery.

"If we have to give a discount because you're late delivering this, it's coming out of your pay," Cole says as he watches me take down the address for the delivery.

I roll my eyes at him before I have a chance to think better of it, and I immediately regret it.

Cole's face goes sharp and venomous as he narrows his eyes at me. "You got a problem, sissy boy?"

I wince. I hate it when they call me that, even though it's true. There is something about me that is just soft and effeminate that I just can't ever seem to shake. Even in my baggy work uniform, it's easy to see that my body is too small, my shoulders are too narrow, and in the wrong kind of light, most people can't decide if I'm male or female.

When my mother was alive, it was something I'd hardly ever noticed. She'd always made me feel normal. Whether I was sneaking into her shoe closet or trying on her skirts, she'd never batted an eye or said an unkind word. And then...she died. And everything changed but me.

My stepfather banned what he called 'my sissy shenanigans,' and his sons had followed his lead in shaming me at every opportunity they got.

I try to change. I try to swallow down my excitement when I see a woman in a dress I would want to wear one day. I try to wear the clothes I'm 'supposed' to, but there is still something in me that's broken and will never allow me to be the kind of son my stepdad wants me to be.

"I asked you a question, you little shit," Cole spits, closing the space between us. "Do you have a problem?"

I shake my head, slowly trying to back away and out of his arm's reach, but I'm too slow.

Cole's hand lashes out, and he grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks me toward him.

"C-Cole, please," I stammer out, locked in his painful grip. "I-I just want to make my delivery."

"I-I just want to make my delivery," Cole says in a high-pitched voice, mocking my soft tone. "Well, who's stopping you?" he asks as he lets me go.

I blink at him, knowing that it's a trap somehow. I know my stepbrothers better than to think they'd let go of some perceived slight from me.

I move to reach for the pizzas in my delivery bag.

"Oh, wait," Cole says before I grab them. "First..." He reaches out and grabs me around my waist, lifting me up off the ground and dragging me across the back of the store. I kick my feet and try to escape from his hold, but he's twice my size, and as soon as he starts to cackle with amusement, Corey pops up to see what is going on.

"What's happening?" Corey asks with a grin as he sees me struggling in Cole's grasp.

Cole snickers as he pulls me over to the large, deep kitchen sink. It's currently full of dirty dish water, and the moment I see it, I know what's coming.

"C-C-Cole. No. Please!" I beg him with everything in me, but the two of them know about my fear of drowning—hell, the two of them are responsible for the fear in the first place—and I know he's not going to let me go.

"Eli's getting ready to make his deliveries, but he's got a little something on his face," Cole tells Corey. "I'm helping him wash it off."

He laughs before he pushes my head down into the sink and submerges me in the water.

I kick and thrash, my heart pounding in my ears as I start to run out of breath under the dirty water.

Please, please, let me up!

I'm only under for a few seconds, but it's enough for the fear to set in, and when Cole lets me up and releases me, I'm coughing and gasping for air.

My whole body is shaking, and I can't seem to straighten out a single thought in my mind. I'm not under the water anymore, but I still feel like I can't breathe.

I sink down to the floor, still gasping for as much air as I can take in, pushing my gross, wet hair back, and I try to brace myself against the dirty ground just to feel something solid.

"Christ, you're such a pussy," Corey says, and the two of them double over laughing at me.

"Get the fuck up and go do your job," Cole says as he pretends to kick at me just to see me flinch.

I take a deep breath and do everything that I can to pull myself together. I have to get out of here.

My hands are still trembling and my legs feel like Jell-o, but I manage to stand up and grab my delivery bag before rushing out to my car.

I'm still too shaken to drive, so I sit in the driver's seat for a while. I feel the heat rising up my neck and spreading over my face. I hate them. I hate them so much that it feels as though the feeling is going to swallow me up whole.

I try to force myself to just keep breathing. I can't afford to spin out and melt down tonight. My delivery is already late as it is, and I know without a doubt I'll be paying for that later. The torment never ends for me.

When I finally feel calm enough to drive, I peel out of the parking lot and pop my earbuds in so I can call my best friend, Nelly. I want a car with bluetooth so badly, but the old delivery car without so much as a CD player is the best I've got right now—and probably ever will have.

Nelly answers on the first ring. "What's up?" he asks in his whispery voice. I always love to hear Nelly's voice, and not only because he's my best friend. The sound of it is actually soothing, like perfectly engaging ASMR.

"My jackass step-brothers tried to drown me," I say flatly.

Nelly hums for a moment. "I think I'm gonna need some context."

I sigh and run my hand through my still-soggy hair and shiver when a piece of wet food falls out of it. "They've been extra all night, so I guess I was on edge and I rolled my eyes at Cole."

"And the little sociopaths decided to drown you for it?" Nelly asks incredulously.

Although Nelly can't see, I still give a shrug. "Basically." I sigh. "Well, no. I guess not really. Cole just dunked my head in some sink water, but still. They traumatized the shit out of me and laughed about it like hyenas."

Nelly lets out a soft huff of air. "I don't know how you put up with their shit. That's your place. Your mom built it for you. You're nineteen now. It's time you take it back."

"I know," I say without enthusiasm. "It's just..." I sigh as I trail off.

I know that Nelly's right, but I don't even know where to start. And...I'm afraid. I'm afraid of my stepfather, afraid of my stepbrothers, and most importantly, I'm afraid that even if by some miracle I'm able to get the pizzeria back from them, I would just end up ruining it.

"They'd kick my ass if I even suggested it. Not to mention the fact that they'd kick me out," I finally say. "I just have to find the right time."

"You've been sayin' that since your eighteenth birthday," Nelly argues. "There's never going to be a right time. And you know Tyler and Arell would take you in if you needed somewhere to stay."

I shake my head even though he can't see me. "Yeah, but the two of them are already cramped enough over there. I just...I don't know. I'll figure it out."

"You better. Those psychos will kill you one day. And then what will I do without my best friend?"

I laugh for the first time all day, and it feels good. "Oh, so you're not really worried about what happens to me but how it will affect you."

Nelly laughs. "Two things can be true."

"Hey, if it's so easy, why don't you move out and live with Tyler or Arell? They'd take you in, too," I challenge.

Nelly goes quiet for a moment, and I can hear him setting something down, most likely a paintbrush or some other artsy tool. Nelly is always creating.

"My situation isn't the same," he says, breaking the silence. "My family doesn't try to drown me."

"Emotional abuse is still abuse," I argue. "It's right there in the name."

"Yeah, well..." Nelly let's out a sigh. "Do as I say and not as I do then, okay?"

I smile. This is why I love Nelly. I could search the known universe and I'd never find a better best friend. My housing situation sucks, but I don't have it as bad as him. At least I know what to expect from my family. My stepfamily is a bunch of Neanderthals, but Nelly's family is smart, and they know just how to get inside his head and destroy him in all of the worst ways without leaving a visible mark.

"I'll try," I tell him. "I'll figure it out eventually." I pause before adding, "We both will."

"I hope so." He's quiet for a minute, and I'm worried I've pushed too far, but a moment later he says, "Okay. So neither of us want to encroach on Tyler and Arell permanently, but we should crash with them tonight. We could both use a break from our families, and you know they won't mind. Tyler could use some socializing outside that computer of his, anyway."

I chuckle. Tyler does love his computer, but Nelly's right. He's probably well overdue for some time with people in the flesh. "That I can do. Let him know we're coming to hang out tonight. Now, let me get off here so I can make this delivery."

"Okay. I'll text him. See ya later."

As I hang up the phone, I fish in my pocket for the delivery address. I remember the address being on the north side of town, but that's about it.

I pull over to the side of the road, ready to type in the exact address into the GPS I installed a few years back, but as I pull out the paper I wrote on, I realize it's too wet and fragile to read.

Shit. This is exactly the very last thing I need.

I try to make out the running ink as best as I can and put in an address into the GPS and pray it's right. Cole and Corey are going to give me hell if I deliver this pizza to the wrong address. I think it's 424 Lakeshore Cove. I try to remember if I've ever delivered out there before , but nothing comes to mind. I'm not very familiar with that area, but I know it is upscale. Nicer than the neighborhoods where most people who order pizzas from Ma's Pizzeria live.

My GPS says it's thirty minutes away, so I pull back onto the road, driving a bit too fast, but I need to make up time. Cole wasn't joking about docking my check; he did it pretty much every week for one idiotic reason or another. As much as I love the time away from the shop, away from my stepbrothers and their not-so-funny jokes about me being girly, I need to make as much money as I can so I can get out of my step-dad's house and do like Nelly said. Fight to get my mom's pizza shop back.

***

"Holy shit." I gawk as I drive up to the gate of Lakeshore Cove.

I was right. I've never been here before. The Lakeshore Cove neighborhood is apparently home to the rich and famous. At least that's what it looks like, judging by the size of the homes and the gates surrounding many of them.

I know that I better get in and out because if anyone sees my old ass car, they'll probably call the cops. My GPS takes me further into the neighborhood, and I swear the deeper someone lives in here the richer they must be. The houses are getting larger and more lavish with each one I pass.

My navigation takes me to the end of the road, and I'm met with a tall iron gate held up by two brick columns on either side of the entrance. On one of the columns, I see a gold plaque with the number 424 carved into it. I pull up and notice an intercom on the driver's side, so I roll down my window, but before I can look for a call button, a voice comes over the intercom.

"How may I help you?"

Looking around, I notice cameras perched at the top of each column, so I wave at one of them out my window.

"I've got a pizza delivery," I say.

"I'm sorry." The voice on the other end pauses for a long time. "I wasn't aware we were expecting a delivery," the man finally says before grumbling something and then saying, "Come on in."

A second later, the iron gates start to open and I pull through. The driveway is more like a private road, and I drive another minute before the house comes into view. Actually, mansion is a better description of the home in front of me.

I wonder if a celebrity lives here? I begin to worry that I read the address on my paper wrong because I can't imagine someone who lives here ordering a cheap pizza from Ma's.

People this rich usually have live-in staff, though, and I hope and pray it was one of them who ordered. Although the guy on the intercom didn't seem so certain.

Stone stairs lead up to a set of grande double doors at the entryway to the house. I'm guessing they must be twenty feet tall, and the etched glass that makes up the center of each makes them look more like works of art than doors.

Before my fist connects with the door to knock, it opens, and a short, balding, old man is smiling at me. To my surprise, his smile appears genuine and helps to calm my nerves a bit until I realize just how underdressed I look next to him in his two piece suit. The baggy jeans and work t-shirt I'm wearing makes it even clearer how far out of my element I am standing on the steps of this house, but he doesn't even bat an eye or give me a once-over like a lot of people do when I show up on their doorsteps delivering pizza.

"Hello, sir."

"Uh, hi." I hold up the pizza and he takes it.

"Well, it smells great. Someone better claim it soon, or I'll have it myself." He winks and I smile back at him. He's not what I was expecting at all, even if he is the hired help. "How much do we owe you?"

"Just twenty."

He hands me a hundred-dollar bill, and I just stare at it a second. "I'm sorry. I don't have enough change for this."

A big smile spreads across the man's face. "I don't need change. That's for you. I imagine this was a far drive out from Ma's."

I'm surprised he knows where Ma's is located, but not as much as the shock of him giving me such a large tip. "I ... I couldn't."

He holds up his hand. "Trust me. The boss won't have it any other way."

I stare at him for a minute before my brain kicks in. "T-t-thank you. And, ah, tell your boss thanks, too."

He nods, and I turn to head to my car, pulling out my wallet to tuck the bill in it, and I freeze. Before I can get to my car, I swear it feels like my spine is tingling, and I just know someone is watching me. Turning around, I expect to see the man at the door asking for his money back. Maybe the boss hadn't been as generous as he'd expected. But the door remains closed, and I see nothing. The feeling is still there, though.

I start for my car again, but a sound from above stops me once more, and I turn and look up, noticing a balcony on the right front corner of the house. I'm just in time to see the back of a man as he's stepping into the house through a set of French doors. I didn't see his face, but even at this distance and watching him from behind while he retreats into his house, it's obvious he is one fine specimen of a man. His back is wide and muscular, and briefly I wonder if his ass is as shapely as his torso, but I quickly shake off those thoughts and quietly shame myself for them. My stepdad already thought I was a 'worthless sissy,' I didn't need to add pervert to my resume.

"Out of your league," I say outloud in hopes that it'll help me to get myself together. I couldn't get him even if I wanted to.

I get back in my car and crank the engine. He definitely wasn't watching me, well other than maybe out of some kind of shock that someone like myself would be in his neighborhood. I take one more second to glance back up at the balcony, hoping the man might have come back outside so I can catch a glimpse of his face and see if it lives up to my imagination, but the doors are shut, and the balcony is empty.

Putting my car in drive, I pull out of the driveway and make my way down toward the gate and back into the neighborhood. I still can't believe someone out here in this fancy neighborhood ordered a pizza from Ma's. Thinking about the giant tip I just earned and the man on the balcony, I smile, and for the first time all night, I feel a small sense of calm. It won't last long, I know, since I have another two hours to go before my stepbrothers will leave me to clean Ma's and close up on my own. For now, I've got an eighty-dollar tip in my wallet and the image of that man's backside to keep me company on my drive back.

I laugh to myself as I think about what Nelly's reaction will be when I tell him about this delivery and the mystery man from the balcony.

As if he has E.S.P., my phone rings, and sure enough, it's Nelly.

"Hey," I answer, still smiling.

"Hey, thank goodness," Nelly says. "I was hoping I'd catch you still out on your delivery.... Wait, you sound different. What happened?"

I laugh. "I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes. I just got an eighty dollar tip on that last delivery."

"Oh, Ma's pickin' up the high-roller customers now, huh?"

"You have no idea. It was on Lakeshore Cove. I've never been out there before, but I swear the guy who owned the mansion I just left must be some kind of celebrity. I think I caught him staring at me."

"Why wouldn't he stare? You are hot and single."

I roll my eyes. He's got that half right. I am single, but 'hot' is a huge stretch of the imagination. "You have to say that. You're my best friend. He was probably staring because I so obviously didn't belong in that neighborhood," I say.

Nelly lets out a frustrated sound. "What I know is you don't see yourself the way other people do. You offer so much more than you think you do." He might be right, but it doesn't change my circumstances, so I'm just not going to argue, especially when I could say the same to him.

He pauses, and before I can break the silence, he shouts into the phone, and I'm glad I'm not wearing my earbuds. "Oh! You said you got an eighty-dollar tip, right? That's more than you'd make the rest of the night. You should totally ditch the rest of the night so we can head to Tyler and Arell's. I want to hear more about this rich daddy who was checking out your ass while you walked away."

I laugh. "I didn't say he was 'checking out my ass.' I said I think he was staring. It totally could have been some rich cult sizing me up to be their virgin sacrifice."

Nelly chuckles. "Does that mean you're not ditching?"

"Nelly, I can—"

"Nope! I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm throwing my stuff in a bag now. See you soon. Mwah!"

Just like that, my phone goes silent, and I groan in the quiet of my car. But even as I groan, I'm smiling. Nelly's right. I can't remember the last time I called off work, and if Cole and Corey find out I got such a large tip, I'm sure they'll take it for themselves. They'll claim I damaged a pizza pan or something dumb. Screwing me over is one of their favorite hobbies, and I do need a break, so when I come up on the next exit, I take it and head straight for Silverlake Hills to pick up Nelly. There will be hell to pay later, but for the rest of the night, I'm going to shut off my phone and pretend I'm a normal nineteen-year-old guy spending time with my best friends. Maybe I'll get lucky in my dreams with the hunk from the balcony. It's as close as I'll ever come to love, and for tonight, I'll take it.