My straight roommate is so good

Everything should have been getting better, but that night, Qiao Song had a vivid nightmare.

In the dream, he was taken back to his childhood.

At that time, he was a sickly child, bloated from daily medication, with a small, round body.

Although his parents took him to doctors and sought treatments, they were always filled with disdain and disappointment toward his appearance.

“Who would like such a fat kid?”

“Do you still think you can pursue a career in piano performance? The audience would demand a refund the moment you step on stage.”

“Even a mother is just a person, and mothers also prefer beautiful children.”

“…”

Each word was like a sharp knife, stabbing Qiao Song’s heart repeatedly.

As the dream shifted, he found himself grown up, yet his parents’ attitude remained unchanged.

They stood together in front of him, their eyes still filled with disgust, not even willing to look at him directly.

Years had passed, but his mother remained as glamorous as before, and her words were just as hurtful.

In her calm and gentle tone, she said to him, “Stop dreaming. You know how ugly you look when you gain weight. How could Ling Jianshu ever like you?”

He desperately shook his head, trying to say, *No, it’s not like that! He said he’d love me no matter if I’m fat or thin!*

But no words came out. His mother’s curses echoed endlessly in his ears:

*Ling Jianshu could never love you, never…*

“No—!” He woke from the nightmare, his eyes already blurred with tears.

Across from him, Ling Jianshu, hearing the noise, quickly got out of bed and came over to him.

“What’s wrong, Qiao Qiao? Did you have a bad dream?” His voice was gentle and low.

In the darkness, Qiao Song gazed into Ling Jianshu’s eyes, feeling his warmth, but his heart ached even more.

He didn’t want to reveal his vulnerability, so he replied in a calm voice, “It’s nothing, just a dream.”

Ling Jianshu wanted to comfort him further, but Qiao Song pushed him away.

“Really, it’s fine. Go back to sleep,” Qiao Song said, his tone cold, with even a hint of impatience.

Ling Jianshu pressed his lips together, but didn’t press the matter.

That night, Qiao Song lay staring at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep.

The nightmare had deeply touched the most fragile part of his heart, making him doubt himself, making him question if he truly deserved Ling Jianshu’s love.

————————

The next morning, he felt exhausted, but he still forced himself to get up and wash.

He decided to avoid Ling Jianshu, so he left the dormitory early and went to the piano room to practice.

He spent the whole day there, but his concentration was off, and his practice was full of mistakes.

The doubts in his heart lingered, refusing to go away.

By evening, when the piano rooms closed, he had no choice but to leave the arts center.

As he stepped outside, he saw Ling Jianshu already waiting for him not far away.

He tried to stay calm, not wanting him to notice anything, and greeted him, “Ling Brother.”

But Ling Jianshu had already sensed that something was wrong.

With concern in his voice, he asked, “Qiao Qiao, what’s going on with you today?”

Qiao Song replied, “Nothing.”

But Ling Jianshu, sharp as ever, said, “You’ve been avoiding me since this morning.”

Qiao Song lowered his eyes, silent for a moment, without denying it.

“Why?” Ling Jianshu asked cautiously, “Did I do something wrong?”

Qiao Song took a deep breath and replied in a cold tone, “No, I just want to be alone. Can you not follow me around for a while?”

The words were harsh.

He regretted them almost as soon as they left his mouth.

He couldn’t bear to look at Ling Jianshu’s face, but he could still feel the sudden drop in the usual spirited energy of the man standing in front of him.

Ling Jianshu, his voice now soft with hurt, asked, “Am I putting pressure on you?”

Qiao Song hesitated for a moment, didn’t answer, and continued walking toward the dorm.

Ling Jianshu hurried to catch up, whispering, “I’m sorry…”

Qiao Song suddenly couldn’t take it anymore, spinning around to yell, “I don’t want to hear your apologies! Ling Jianshu, do you understand what I’m saying? Stop following me for a while!”

Ling Jianshu froze in place, his eyes filled with confusion and helplessness.

Seeing him like this, Qiao Song’s heart ached.

He suddenly hated himself even more, hated his own insecurity, hated his erratic moods, hated how he was using Ling Jianshu’s love as an excuse to hurt him…

In agony, he closed his eyes briefly, whispered a “sorry,” and fled.

Not long after, Jiang Huaijin came to the school to find him.

Though Qiao Song didn’t particularly like him, he felt oddly at ease around someone he disliked.

They went together to a quiet café, seeking a moment of peace.

In the café, Jiang Huaijin began telling a story from his past.

“I once truly, sincerely loved a straight man. He was handsome and refined. I thought he was the one, that our relationship would only deepen. But then I realized, he only saw me as a novelty, something fleeting. In his world, I was always someone dispensable. In the end, he couldn’t resist the pressure from his family and told me he was getting married. He said I was just a passing phase, and his life was meant to be with a woman, to follow the traditional path.”

Jiang Huaijin paused, his voice tinged with a trace of bitterness.

He sipped his coffee and then continued.

“When he left me, it felt like the sky was falling. I couldn’t accept it at first—I’d been so genuine with him, and this was what I got in return. His departure plunged me into endless pain and self-doubt. I kept asking myself if I had done something wrong, if I wasn’t good enough. But later, I realized it wasn’t my fault. I’d just fallen for the wrong person. I shouldn’t have loved a straight man, shouldn’t have believed he’d really change for me. And even if he did, I shouldn’t have believed that change would last forever…”

As Qiao Song listened, it became clear that Jiang Huaijin was trying to warn him against getting involved with Ling Jianshu.

Jiang Huaijin, fearing he might not understand, made it even more explicit: “For a boy as beautiful as you, it’s normal for straight men to be attracted to you. But Qiao Song, you need to understand, that feeling is often only temporary. One day, your roommate might grow tired of you—and that day may come sooner than you think. We’re the same, so I don’t want to see you get hurt. Do you understand?”

Qiao Song responded absentmindedly, his feelings becoming more complicated and difficult to decipher.

For the first time, he was painfully aware of all the obstacles that stood between him and Ling Jianshu—not just his own insecurities, but also the inherent uncertainty of love itself.

What he didn’t know was that, as he was lost in thought, Ling Jianshu happened to pass by the café.

Through the large glass windows, he saw Qiao Song sitting inside, having coffee with Jiang Huaijin, their conversation seemingly relaxed and pleasant, without any of the distance or coldness he had been feeling.

*Why is it like this?* he wondered. *Why can Qiao Song be so at ease with a stranger but push me away?*

The more he thought about it, the more hurt he felt.