The Music Part II

[mistressteacup]

Masterpost || Part I

~

You watch them from your perch on the stairs. They’re putting together the last few things they need to start, the last few things they need in order to leave, to begin their own journey. Soon, they’ll be on the bus, its constant movement lulling them to sleep until the next day comes, until all they know is the stop and go telling them when and where they are.

You helped them yesterday, helping them pack, put together the items in the way you used to, when you used to do the same sort of thing.

It’s almost time. Almost time for them to leave you, moving on until the only things left are calls.

You hope your friendship will last that.

Ray comes to sit beside you, Christa sitting down next to him, resting her head against his shoulder. Why so glum, chum? He smiles at himself, laughing inside at his olden day speech patterns.

Smiling, you wrinkle your nose at him, I’m just gonna miss you guys.

He smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, You’ll have to come visit us sometime. He says, tightening his arm briefly.

I’ll do my best.

Besides, Christa smiles over to you, We’ll be here too. We can have girl nights. I’m sure you’ll fit right in. Amusement curls in her eyes, laughing over at you.

Sticking your tongue out at her, you pout, Just because I’m gay, doesn’t mean I’m a girl. You have man parts and everything!

She just grins, We could talk about boys, you know. Christa waggles her eyebrows at you, Like your new crush. Darn, she knows your kryptonite. You want to talk about your crush!

You blush, hiding your face in Ray’s shirt, murmuring quietly, I guess I could do that. You like to talk about boys. Or you think you would. You’ve never really had the opportunity before.

Ray laughs delightedly at you two, grinning as you raise your head to glare at him, You’re supposed to be nice to me. He’s your friend, he’s supposed to protect your masculinity. Not that you have much claim on it, but sometimes you like to pretend.

I’m your friend, dude, I have teasing rights. Don’t deny me friend privileges.

You stick your tongue out. Friend privileges suck. Though it is a two way street, so it can’t be too bad, you guess. You know, if you have to be honest. It’s too bad you’re so virtuous. If you weren’t, you could at least lie in your head. But, alas.

You sigh, watching the rest of the group come closer, preparing for goodbye. It’s going to be weird not having you guys here. It feels too soon, but it was always going to be too soon.

Standing, Ray wraps you up in a hug, Yeah. You’ll have to come visit us, okay?

You nod, breathing in the hug. These people are leaving. It feels like they’ve brought you into something new, something special. But they have to leave, they have to tour, it’s this thing they do, and you understand that. You just don’t want to lose them because of it.

It’ll be fine, you tell yourself. It has to be.

~

You meet Mike at a coffee shop, a cute place, all soft tones, browns and pinks.

A good place for a first date, if that’s what this is. You’re not really sure, considering you’ve never been on one.

It kind of makes it hard to figure that out. Is this a date? Is it normal for people to randomly ask for people’s phone numbers? You don’t know.

You do know you want it to be a date though. You know you want this dude to flirt with you and you want to have that potential there.

But, you know, you’re not exactly the best at reading people.

You smile over your coffee, wrapping your hands around the warmth. Sometimes you think you’d buy coffee just for the warmth if you didn’t like the taste of it.

Also, the smell, the smell of coffee is fantastic. It’s a good thing there are so many ways to add sugar to it because you’re not a huge fan of black coffee.

So when you see him accept his coffee, you make a face at him, Black?

He grins, It’s the only way to have it.

You make a mock outraged face, What? Madness! Sugary coffee is just as awesome, buddy. You better apologize to my chocolate cinnamon latte. It’s hurt, man, by your callous, callous words.

He raises an eyebrow, Your coffee is weak of heart, kid. It should get used to shit being said.

You shake your head disappointedly, patting your coffee cup carefully, Oh, you poor chocolate cinnamon latte, just because this mean, mean person doesn’t think you’re awesome doesn’t mean you’re not a delicious treat of awesome. Don’t listen to the haters. They don’t know nothing ‘bout ya’ll. Waving your hand dramatically, you make a gangsta face. Yeah, you’re so hardcore.

He laughs at you, If you coddle it, it’ll never grow up, Mike grins unashamedly, I’m doing it a favor, you should thank me.

I never thank mean people. That would be like thanking the thief that steals my cow, it’s counterproductive. If I ever get another cow, they’ll just steal that one too. And I’m far too attached to my cows to accept people taking them away. You shake your head sadly with a sigh.

Your poor imaginary cows. They must feel so unloved.

Yes, because I’m sure you have cows hanging around everywhere in the middle of LA.

You grin, waggling your fingers at him, I have my ways, dude. Don’t underestimate me. I’m ninja.

~

Smiling, you sink into the coach, curling your legs up beneath you. Girl Talk time. Apparently, it’s still called that even though you’re a guy. You think maybe it should be called awesome people talk time, but they just shook their heads, grinning at you. You think that maybe they’re finding a little too much joy in you being there and wanting to talk about boys.

You’d be outraged, but, you know, you’re actually here to talk about boys. About your first date which is way too exciting to hold in even if you’re not entirely sure it was a date. You’ve got questions, man, and, hopefully, these lovely ladies will be able to help you (flattery never hurts even if it’s inside your head). So you’ve decided to be beneficent and let it slide. Yes, you’re just that awesome.

So, what was this Mike guy like? Lyn-Z grins at you, We want to know everything. We’re married now, we gotta live through someone vicariously. And you’re our only friend who’s still dating.

Isn’t it sad how that happened? Last I knew, we had at least three or four girlfriends who weren’t married, but now it’s all over. Everyone’s happily married and there are no more stories. Alicia pouts slightly. Though I guess I can be happy for their happily married status, but still.

We do need our vicarious smoochies, Christa nods sadly, turning to you, But now we have you, so it’s all good.

Eyes wide and intense, they turn to stare at you, zeroing in on you like there’s a bulls-eye on your forehead, a hungry pack of lions, watching their prey. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. But it’s too late now. Yeah, You say with a gulp, That’s me.

So tell us about this guy, what’d you do? Where’d you go? Did you kiss?

Might as well, right? You play with you shirt, feeling awkward. You don’t really know how this works. We went to a coffee shop and talked for hours. It was really fun. You smile sweetly, curling your legs beneath you.

Anyway, But I’m not sure if it was a date or not. I haven’t ever been on one, so… You shrug, blushing.

Well, did he pay for the stuff you did? You nod, eyes wide.

Did you ever talk about each other in a way that used the word friend?

You shake your head, thinking.

Did you kiss?

You shake your head again, pouting.

Then, yep, that was a date.

Even though we didn’t kiss? You tilt your head, frowning a little.

Yeah, not everyone kisses on the first date. Some people are subtle. It’s supposed to be attractive.

Good, You say with a grin, Good.

Jamia smiles, I’m glad, She rests her head on your shoulder. You deserve to be happy.

~

Hey, Kevin, it’s mom. How are you doing? We haven’t heard from you in awhile so we figured we’d call. It seems like you’re not home right now, so call us back later? We love you lots! Bye.

~

Running forward to lean over the fence, you grin at what you see, Hippos! You love hippos, they’re big, cute, like giant teddy bears, plodding around in the water like they don’t have anything else to do. They’re the original La-Z-Boy, the person on the couch, chillin’, not a care in the world.

Mike comes up behind you, leaning his back against the rails. Raising an eyebrow, his lips quirk amusedly. Hippos?

You shrug, sheepish, smiling at the ground, A fan gave me this hot pink hippo, once. So I’m kinda bias towards hippos now. It was pretty awesome. It’s adorable. Big, dark eyes, and a cute smile. You know hippos don’t smile, but, still, it’s awesome, and stuffed animals aren’t meant to be anatomically correct anyway. You like happy hippos. Especially when they’re pink.

Pink hippos? That’s your thing?

You grin at him, nodding seriously, Pink hippos, man, that’s where it’s at. Bouncing against the rail, you laugh, eyes following the hippos subtly, trying to hide your infatuation with them.

Oh, god, I’m on a date with someone and my main competition is a hippo. I don’t think this bodes well for the future.

Hey! You pout, inwardly grinning at him calling this a date, I’m not that into hippos. They’re just, cute, is all.

Uh-huh, sure, Mike raises his eyebrow, watching you skeptically, So says the guy who can’t take his eyes off of them.

You jerk your eyes away from the hippos again, pouting, That’s not fair, you can’t blame me! Hippos are just all roll-y and big! They’re too much to resist. You have to admit that.

He just grins at you, I admit nothing.

Pouting, you stare at him sadly, eyes wide and sorrowful, But hippos are so awesome! They’re like big balls of sunshine and joy! You can’t not like hippos. It’s heresy!

He laughs, rolling his eyes. Fine, fine, they’re awesome.

Ah-ha! You grin, dancing a happy dance for the hippos, You admitted it!

Hippos are so underrated, they need all the compliments and love they can get.

You’re totally their champion, bringing love to hippos all around, one at a time. It’ll be epic.

And, at least now, you know what you’re going to do next year.

Hippo Tour!

It needs to happen.

~

Hey, it’s your parents again. You haven’t called us back yet, so we’re not sure you got our message. We’d love to hear from you. Call us when you can.

~

You grin as you watch My Chemical Romance from the side of the stage, bouncing on the balls of your feet, unable to stop moving. They’re powerful, the way they feel the music, it’s inside them. And it’s beautiful. It’s kind of amazing to be here, to watch their energy. These people you’re friends with, these people you know and love, they’ve become something more, more intense. They’re a part of each other, a tidal wave of sound. They’ve become caricatures of themselves in the best way possible. A way to reach out and hold onto the people in the audience, bringing them into the world they’re creating.

It’s interesting, because you’ve known that from an inside perspective, you’ve known that from a familial perspective, but you’ve never known it from this sort of perspective. This isn’t someone you’ve known forever or someone you’ve met on tour. This is someone you knew as friends before you ever saw them live.

And maybe you should have gone to a concert when you were younger, when you were still hiding, when you could have heard these words and felt them in your heart when you doubted yourself. You wonder if it would have been healing, if it would have reached inside you, pulling out the madness and pain and lancing the infection. Because music has a way of reaching us when nothing else can. But maybe you weren’t ready for it back then, back all those years to when you were a kid.

But, now, now, you can feel it.

It’s kind of amazing.

~

You watch them walk off-stage, laughing and smiling. There’s an energy inside of them, the adrenaline from the show refusing to release them from its grip, taking hold and digging in its heels.

Gerard grins as he comes out with his arm wrapped around Mikey’s shoulder, Frank tumbling in behind them with Ray following. They’re happy, vibrating in their shoes, the music refusing to leave them.

It was a good show.

A few moments pass, guitars changing hands, before they see you, Ray waving first, his eyes falling on you as he looked around. Walking over, he wraps you in a hug, Hey, he grins, Glad you came.

You smile happily in his arms, giddy, laughing as the rest of the band piles on top of you two, Frank grabbing onto your hair and holding on, Kevin!

Gerard’s red head peeks between you two, his arms curling around you, Kevin.

There’s a yelp, the tangle of limbs becoming too much for your legs to handle as you all crash to the ground, Frank, the cause of it all, giggles as he rolls away, escaping the massacre.

Mikey stands in the background, the only one smart enough to avoid the fall. You grin.

Man, you missed these people.

~

The phone rings as you come home, exhausted. Flights always tire you, make you want to go to your bed and bury beneath its covers, allowing yourself to get lost in a world of your own making.

But as the door closes behind you and you drop your bags on the floor, the phone rings, a harsh echo in the silence of your home.

Shit, you think, an involuntary curse word forced out by exhaustion.

You should ignore it, just go to bed and sleep, you probably won’t be good company anyways.

So you continue onwards, decision made. You’ll sleep, call whoever’s calling back tomorrow, when you’re less likely to fall asleep on them. Less likely to say something you’ll regret.

You close your eyes, letting tired lids finally have a rest. Mmm, you think, you’re almost there. Almost to your room, almost to bliss.

There’s a thud as your phone drops from nerveless fingers, hitting the carpeted floor quietly.

You droop, stopping, refusing to open your eyes. The strings have been cut, your one path, your one way to go is gone. And you’re not sure what you need to do.

Pick up the phone?

Maybe you should just collapse here, sleep on the carpet until you wake up in the morning, prepared for another day.

It’s comfortable enough, right?

You allow yourself to fall, curling up on the ground, curiously looking at the screen of your phone.

Because despite refusing to answer, you still want to know who it is.

And, then, Oh. It’s your parents.

You should answer, you should really, really answer. They’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks and you should answer, you really should. Sleep can wait right?

Right.

You answer the phone.

This is such a bad idea.

Hey, mom.

~

They’re awesome people, mom. They’re not making me someone I’m not. If they were, I wouldn’t be friends with them. You try to keep your voice controlled, calm.

It’s not working so well.

But they have changed you. You don’t usually fight with me is the unspoken reproach.

Mom, of course they’ve changed me. We’re friends, friends influence each other. It’s not a bad thing.

You haven’t talked to us in weeks. The only thing that’s changed are these new friends of yours.

That’s not the only thing, mom.

Then what has changed?

You sigh, not willing to open that can of worms right now, Mom.

What has made it so you don’t respond to a phone call? Really, I want to know.

Mom, you say again. You don’t know what to say or how to defend yourself. I’ve been busy? That’ll never fly. She’ll ask what you’ve been busy with. What will you say then? I’ve been learning to accept myself for being gay? You’re not ready for that, you know you aren’t. At least not right now. Not in a phone call.

Fuck, why did you answer the phone?

~

You hate fighting with your parents. You hate the implications behind every word, the hidden meanings to everything either of you say. You hate the fact that you can never just get out what’s wrong. What’s really eating at you.

I mean what’s so bad with saying I’m worried about you.

Because you know your mom didn’t call to be angry, she didn’t call to fight, she was just worried. She wanted to know you were okay. That these new friends of yours weren’t getting you into drugs or sex. That you weren’t going to come home an entirely new person.

And you may know that’s never going to happen. That they’ll never turn you into someone you’re not. But your mom doesn’t.

And sometimes outside appearances are the only ones people see.

~

You know they’ve forgiven you, just as you’ve forgiven them. An argument like this is small, it’s miniscule.

And it sucks, but it happens.

All it’s really made you realize is that you need to say something, and you need to say it now.

No more excuses, no more waiting.

You’re ready.

~

The phone feels heavy in your hand, the weight of things to say, the things you need to do.

Maybe this is terrible timing.

Or maybe it’s the best timing you could ask for.

Hey, mom.

Kevin?

Yeah, it’s me. You pause for a second, taking a deep breath, Um, there’s something I need to tell you.

Kevin? Kevin, are you okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, there’s been something I need to tell you. I’ve been needing to tell you since I was seven years old. And I’m not sure how you’re going to react to it.

Your mom nods, cautious, trusting you, Okay.

But I feel like I should tell you in person.

Okay.

It’s happening.

Oh god, it’s happening.

~

You giggle helplessly, bending over as laughter wracks your body.

Mike grins before you, relentless, hiding his own laughter far better than you are yours.

Bastard.

How dare he make you laugh so hard. Inconsiderate is what it is. Who wants to laugh, really. It’s a terrible, terrible thing.

Really, laughter causes wars. No lie.

Okay, so maybe a little lie.

But laughing hurts if you do it long enough!

You need to get revenge somehow. It’s the only way to even the score.

Forcing your laughter to slow, you pounce at him, pushing him to the ground, digging your fingers into his sides.

You grin, it’s nice to be able to forget, to step away from what’s tomorrow.

To spend a day in laughter rather than in fear.

~

Okay, I’m going in.

You can do it. Gerard’s voice comes through tinny, crackling across the phone, reassuring, We believe in you.

You smile slightly, closing your eyes and letting out a rattling breath, This is terrifying. What if they don’t want me anymore?

Then you’ll always have us. We love you, Kevin.

You nod, taking a deep breath, Thanks. I just want them in my life. I don’t want to lose them. And this might be it.

I know. It sucks.

You nod, laughing through the tears. Any words of wisdom for me?

Be honest, and don’t forget you have us.

Thanks. You take a deep breath, pressing those words close, keeping them safe, Thanks.

Taking a deep breath, you shake yourself, ignoring the fact that your hands can’t seem to stop trembling.

Let’s do this.

~

There’s a silence after you tell them, the words echoing in the room, a death toll.

You close your eyes, scared. Because as good as it feels to finally be honest, it sucks to know that you no longer have control over what’s going to happen.

It’s all up to them. They could make this or break this.

You really, really hope they make this.

I don’t understand. Your mom gulps, at a loss for words, your dad standing behind her, face expressionless.

You blink, not sure what to do, what to say.

You kind of want to run.

Can you give us time? To think about this?

You can’t help but be grateful that they haven’t already kicked you out of the house, told you to never speak to them again.

Yeah.

~

The doorbell rings, a hollow clanging through your home, bright and brass. You don’t really want to answer it. You don’t want to leave your bed and force your muscles to move in ways they haven’t moved in hours.

You love your parents, but, man, it could all go wrong.

You can see the different paths in your head, all the different ways it could go, all the horrible ways it could go wrong. If they wanted, they could just forget, could just stop calling, as though you were never their son at all.

Or, perhaps worse, they could “accept” you, keeping you in their family, charity. We can save the gay boy, they would say, looking at you as though you need to be fixed. As though there’s something wrong, something dirty about you.

You think that’d be worse, because you’re not sure you’re strong enough to say no.

Your family is hard to reject, no matter how cruel they may act.

So you hope they choose something else, anything else.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed, trying to ignore the doorbell.

It’s probably nothing.

But then it rings again, and again, a constant noise of ding, ding, ding, ding. This person’s not giving up.

Taking a deep breath, you go to answer the door.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to get rid of them quickly.

You kind of need to cry.

You open the door, ready to smile, ready to pretend to be okay.

Everything’s fine here, no worries. Sure, you were just crying, but you’re fine, really.

Your walls up and prepared, you look at the person standing outside.

It’s Mike.

Your glass castle breaks, cracks running through the fragile surface at the sight of him.

Shit.

Tears run down your face, a sob wracking your body, as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around you.

His voice is soft, quiet and uncharacteristic, as he murmurs sweetly to you, bringing you carefully back to your room, his arms a safe haven.

You didn’t think just telling them would hurt so much, you didn’t think just the fear of rejection would seep inside you and make you so broken.

You feel flimsy like a gust of wind could push you down, could drag you through the mud until you don’t remember what it’s like to be colorful.

What it’s like to live.

You breathe, pressing your face against him, burrowing into his arms, into safety. It’s hard, to live with this. To not know.

You didn’t expect this to be easy, but you never thought it would be this hard either.

~

You’re baking when the knock comes on the door, distracting you from the cookie dough in front of you. Putting the wooden spoon carefully to the side, you wipe your hands on your apron before taking it off and placing it on the counter, refusing to make a mess in order to answer the door.

Hello? You smile, opening the door, head tilted slightly.

Your parents stand outside, smiling nervously, Hi.

Mom? Dad? You blink, Um, come in?

They nod, awkward, as they enter your home, standing just inside the entranceway, wary of their welcome.

They stare at you, silence permeating the room. You’d like to make it easier for them, but they’re not the only ones at a loss for words.

Your mom looks down, dark eyes turning to the ground for answers as she takes a deep breath, We’re sorry. Your dad nods from the sidelines, regret in his eyes, and you stare at them, confused, heart beating fast.

You hope this is what you think it is.

What for?

We’re sorry we had to think about it. We’re sorry we asked you to leave. We love you and we’ll always love you, no matter who you love.

Mom, You blink away the tears, closing your eyes, relief building in your chest. Dad.

A tear slips out, and you close your eyes, trying to regain control, trying to push away the wetness in your eyes. You take a deep breath, letting it out suddenly in a gasp when your mom comes closer, hugging you tightly, your dad close behind.

We love you, we love you, we love you.

Air shudders out of your lungs, little gasping breaths, as you hug them back, holding them tightly.

Thank you.

~

So do you have a boyfriend?

You blink at the first words coming through the phone, What?

No, really, Kevin, you have to tell us, we’re your brothers. We’ve got first dibs.

First Dibs? What strange world have you gone into? Do they really want to know if you have a boyfriend? What?

Your boyfriend. Come on, tell us, tell us!

Um, You blink, eyes wide, He’s really sweet?

Ah ha! So you do have a boyfriend!

I think?

You realize he’s going to have to meet the family right? I mean, now that we know, nothing’s going to keep us from being completely nosy.

Oh, shoot, I knew I was forgetting something when I decided to tell you.

Oh, shut up, you know you like how nosy we are.

I liked how nosy you were when you were nosy to each other. That was funny.

Well, now it’s your turn. We’ve got to make up for all the years of boy crushes we’ve missed. Man, Kevin, were you not thinking about us at all? All that time we’ve got to make up! You better prepare yourself, we’ve got all this shit saved up, just for you.

You laugh.

~

Grinning, you bounce around your house as though your feet are springs and you’re just figuring out how awesome they are, how lovely it is to live your life on a cloud.

It feels awesome to be accepted, completely. To have both sides of your life combine without an explosive boom that leaves nothing but destruction in its wake.

It’s nice.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but you knew it could go bad. You knew some people have had really bad experiences. You didn’t want that to happen to you.

But it didn’t.

You were accepted.

Bouncing to the window, you lean against its sill, closing your eyes against the sun.

If you didn’t have to do anything all day, you’d probably bathe in the sun too.

No wonder cats are so lazy all the time. You grin, laughing into the warmth.

You feel ridiculous, like you want to just spin and dance around your house, make strange faces at the mirrors, and skip in the most awkward way possible.

You want to find all the nooks and crevices in your home and find a way to climb up them, to fill them with flowers and joy. To fill your life with color.

You want to exist in this space in a way you haven’t existed before.

Smiling, you trail your fingers against the walls as you skip lazily across the room.

It’s a good day.

~

As awesome as things are, as awesome as it is that your world has changed for the better, you still haven’t kissed Mike, yet.

Maybe you should change that.

~

You stand on his doorstep, sheepishly, wondering if you should do this.

You haven’t knocked yet, there’s still time to turn back. To return to your home and pretend you were never here at all.

Because you might be coming on a little too strong to just randomly come over and demand kisses from someone you’ve never kissed before. Someone that you’ve only known for a few weeks.

You don’t really know how all of this works so maybe it’s not strange. Maybe this sort of thing happens all the time.

You just really hope you’re not being creepy.

Gathering your courage around you like a cloak, using it to give you safety, hiding you from the vulnerability of actually asking for something, you raise your hand and knock.

It’s hard and concrete, pulling you from beneath the waters.

You really hope this is a good idea.

The door opens in a lurch, welcoming light exiting through the opening in bright swathes.

Kevin? Mike watches you curiously. What are you doing here?

I was just, you look at him, um. Hi?

Yeah, I figured that was part of it, but you don’t usually show up on my doorstep, what’s up?

You take a step closer, unable to find the words.

Maybe you better show him.

You reach up, pressing your hand against his cheek until you can kiss him, softly, chastely.

There’s a catcall in the background, and you jump back, eyes wild. Wha-?

Shut up, Mike says, not taking his eyes off of you, directing his words behind him. And fuck off, Bill.

There’s laughter behind him and you feel a blush heat your cheeks.

Mike just smiles, sharp, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. Hey. His voice is low, intimate, bringing you in and holding you close.

You hold your breath, watching him as he presses your back against the house, pushing closer, until all you can see is him, surrounding you.

His lips brush against yours, his hand resting at the side of your neck, thumb brushing against your throat. Heart tripping in your chest, you gasp, warmth spreading through you body.

Eyes slipping closed, you fall into him, letting yourself relax completely. He’s warm, a raging furnace to your coat covered body, protecting you from the chilled air.

His body curves around yours, conforming to the irregular shape easily, naturally, like that’s how it’s meant to be. His lips press against yours, harder than before, more insistent. He’s doing everything he can to bring you in farther, to take you closer, until there are no more lines separating you from him.

And maybe that’s how it usually is when you kiss people, but you can’t help but think this is special. That this is something more.

Your hands curl into his sides, holding onto him like a lifeline, like you could never let go. And if you did, you’re not sure if there would be anything to catch you when you fall, to hold you up from the abyss below you.

Tightening your hands, you gasp suddenly, eyes shooting open when the porch light comes on, whooping sounding from inside, The food’s ready. Come join us already!

You startle, coming back to yourself, looking up at Mike as he smiles, backing away and taking your hand in his, Come on, let’s go eat.

Looking up at him, you smile, the light putting you both in harsh relief.

It’s cool that the beauty that existed in the darkness is still there is the light. That it’s not just an illusion of splashes of light. You’re not missing something in the darkness. Everything is as it is.

It’s not fake, it’s real. It’s not a dream.

Okay.

Fin

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