Taiga encounters his ex, who harasses him while he's working at his day job. How does he properly deal with such disrespect?

Alright, how much time’s left?...Three and a half hours. Sure. Just half an hour passes after five hours of looking away from it. Fan-fucking-tastic. Ok, you know what? Not that bad. That’s 60 minutes three times and then one half. Each of those 60 minutes is just...uh...15? Yeah, 15 minutes 4 times. And 15 minutes is just 3 minutes 5 times. So in all actuality, I’m waiting 3 minutes...70 times and then my shift’s completely over. And I think one of those three minutes passed just thinking about that. So 69 more to go...heh. Oh, the joys of being bored as all hell. At least one good thing came from school. I can now add a bit of flair to counting down the minutes. Totally worth the 7 hours every day for half my life.   My internal calculations are interrupted by a loud thud on the conveyor belt, shocking me to my core. Once I recover from my jolt, I look in front of me to see the source of the noise. To my dismay, it’s someone I’m quite acquainted with, Mason. Oh, goody. As if my day needed more hell to endure. Whatever. Just need to scan his shit and he’ll leave me alone. As a matter of fact, he might just ignore me completely. He’s looking on his phone.   “Taiga?” he questions in an exaggerated tone, “Little gayby Taiga? Is that actually you?”   Fuck.   “Oh my God, I didn’t notice you here. How are you?”   “Sir, I’d thank you to refrain from calling me that,” I respond, scanning and bagging his things,   “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you all fussy. You want me to find you a guy to give you your pacifier?”   I ignore his taunting, scanning and …

Being different is both a blessing and a curse. You don't have to conform to everyone else's norms, so you can just be you. But on the other hand, others aren't always receptive to the fact that you're different. And depending on your will, it can leave you vulnerable to less than ideal outcomes.

It’s not fair. Why do people keep treating me like this? It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to be born like this. And it’s not like I’m being a nuisance. I try to stay out of everyone’s way as much as I can. So why? Why does everyone feel the need to make fun of me? To laugh at me? To hurt me? Did I say something I shouldn’t have to someone really important? I didn’t mean to. This isn’t right.   “Ooo, what a fox,” I hear as I walk through the halls. I clench my bag.   “Hey, say something, foxy,” I hear someone else say. I walk faster.   “Shouldn’t pets be on a leash?” someone else adds on. My eyes start to water.   “Nevermind that, where’s her owner?” someone else chimes in. I run on the brink of tears, hearing nothing but the sounds of everyone’s amusement.   I make it to my safe space. It’s an empty hillside marked by a single oak tree. It’s pretty far from the school and very secluded from society. It’s the perfect place to go when I need to calm down. I place my bag down and curl up beside the tree, recalling the events of the day. They do nothing but push me. Pull my tail. Ask me what I say...Laugh at me. That’s the worst of it. They laugh at me. I hate it. I don’t know how much I can go through with this.   A few tears hit the ground. They’re doing this to me. I come to them in kindness and they do this. Maybe I should transfer again. There’s bound to be a place for me where I can be amongst humans without being jaded. There has to be. Right?   …