LIAM
The bag felt heavier than it should have, as though it carried the weight of my shame instead of just clothes and a few keepsakes.
I yanked the zipper closed and stared at it for a moment, my breath ragged. This wasn’t how my story was supposed to go.
The room felt smaller somehow, suffocating, even though I had lived in it for years. Every corner seemed to mock me, whispering of the life I had lost. The walls, the bed, the little things I once took for granted, they all felt foreign now, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.
I didn’t belong anymore.
The title “Omega” hung over me like a storm cloud, dark and heavy. It wasn’t just a demotion. It was a death sentence for my pride.
No one respected an Omega. No one cared what you thought, what you felt. You were at the bottom,
