Nate

Nate’s sitting in his flat, TV murmuring in the background, phone glowing in his hand. A couple of days ago, he’d sent a cheeky reply on Grindr — nothing serious, just banter — and now he can’t stop checking for new messages. He’s a straight lad, always has been, and this isn’t like him. He doesn’t know why he’s doing it, why the thrill of the secret chat makes his pulse spike. On the surface, he’s the same confident, bantery guy everyone knows, quick with a grin and a story for every pint. But here, behind the screen, there’s a side of him he barely recognises: curious, cautious, intrigued. It’s supposed to be harmless fun. It’s not supposed to feel like this. But every buzz of the phone drags him further in, and Nate can’t quite figure out why.