A Rainbow Coloured Comeuppance ( Pride Month Special)
A Story by Funky Monster
It was early June, and the air was already thick with pride flags and the buzz of end-of-school freedom. But for 18-year-old Eli Torres, life didn’t feel free at all.
Eli was small for his age—about 5’6”, wiry, with brown hair, tan skin, and warm, dark eyes always edged with anxiety. Being openly gay in a high school like Ridgefield wasn’t easy. He had come out a year ago and had paid the price ever since in whispers, mocking nicknames, and one boy who made his life especially hard: Chase Danner.
Chase was everything Eli wasn’t. Tall, muscular, with short-cropped brown hair and striking blue eyes, Chase played varsity football and ruled the hallways with his arrogance. His square jaw and smug grin made him the kind of guy people either worshiped—or feared. He was the son of Tom Danner, a single dad in his 40s who worked construction and raised his boy with old-school values. But even Tom had limits—and what he learned one day would shake his household and test everything he believed about manhood and justice.
The incident happened on a humid Wednesday. Eli had just presented his Pride Month poetry in English class. It was personal, raw, and vulnerable. The applause was short-lived.
As Eli walked down the hallway, Chase had intercepted him near the lockers, loudly mocking the poem in front of a small crowd.
“Nice love letter to your imaginary boyfriend, Eli. Bet he’s as fake as your masculinity.”
Eli had stood frozen, heart racing. Chase wasn’t alone—he rarely was—but this time, he pushed it further. He held up a crumpled rainbow pin Eli had dropped.
“You dropped your flag, princess. Or do you want me to pin it where your kind likes it?”
The hallway erupted with laughter.
But it didn’t end there. Someone filmed it. The video was online before Eli got home. It went viral in local circles within hours.
Tom Danner was just getting off a long shift. His hands were still dusty with drywall, his steel-toed boots clunking on the kitchen tile when he heard the ping of a new message from a coworker.
He tapped the video open.
By the time it ended, his jaw was clenched, and his ears burned. His son. His only boy. Humiliating another kid—in public—for something as personal as being gay.
“Hell. No.”
He didn’t shout. He didn’t call. He didn’t storm into Chase’s room right then. Tom was a man who believed in controlled responses—especially when anger was involved.
Instead, he made a call. To Eli.
Eli hadn’t expected the voice on the phone.
“Eli? This is Tom Danner… Chase’s dad.”
A beat of silence.
“I saw the video. And I want you to come over. Tonight. 6 PM.”
“Wh… why?”
“Because Chase is gonna learn what it means to make a real apology. I want you there to witness it. That alright with you?”
Eli, stunned, whispered:
“Yes, sir.”
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