Vance walked into Bullworth Cathedral from the snow strewn winds of a late December night, feelings of overwhelming shame in his heart. He was coming to pray again.
He was slightly shocked to see he wasn't the only one. He for sure hadn't expected that Gord kid to be here this late.
A preconceived idea of what it all meant.
Probably asking the Almighty to make Johnny Vincent show him some mercy. Asking forgiveness for last year.
Vance shrugged that away. Everybody was welcome to redemption, even Vance himself.
For those that like the same sex had the characteristics.
The Greaser pulled a warm rosary out of his cold leather pocket as he walked up the dim aisle into the flickering candlelight of the alter. He crossed himself before sinking to his knees, taking a place beside the Prep.
The right wing conservatives think it's a decision.
Vance situated the rosary in his hands and folded them together. Very faintly, he could hear the whispered prayer from the boy beside him.
"And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."
A short pause, the Prep sniffed and sighed. Then started over.
"Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy Kingdom come…"
'Wonder what's eating him,' Vance thought bitterly, as he began to whisper his own prayer.
And you can be cured with some treatment and religion.
"Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl though out the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."
Vance listened to the silence for a bit, feeling a pair of eyes on him. Finally, he turned his head to look at the other teen.
They stared at each other for a moment before Gord spoke.
"What brings you here?"
Man-made rewiring of a predisposition.
The Prep didn't ask with a rude tone, so Vance answered civilly in turn.
"Trying to save my soul. You?"
"The same thing, I suppose."
They stared at each other for a moment longer.
"Why do you think your soul needs saving?" Gord asked.
Playing God. Here we go. America the brave still fears what we don't know.
Vance had to wonder at that. 'Kids a bit nosy.' He shrugged that off though.
"Swear you'll keep it to yourself. And if I tell, you will."
"We're in a church." Gord replied, uncertain.
"I'm sure the Big Guy will understand."
"Well… alright. I swear." Gord conceded, crossing himself.
And God loves all his children is somehow forgotten.
Vance fiddled with his rosary. He had half hoped the kid wouldn't be that interested.
"I need guidance. I stayed today. If my folds ever found out, that's be the enda me. I gotta fix myself."
"Why?" Gord asked, not getting the full picture.
"'Cause I'm gay." Vance murmured, his shame flaring up again.
"Oh."
Another silence that seemed to stretch on forever.
"Me too." Gord finally whispered.
Another silence fell between them as they again began their whispered prayers that echoed through the flickering lights of the Cathedral.
But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five hundred years ago. I don't know.
Melody sat in the chilly attic of the girl's dorm in her pajamas, looking out the single window. She was wiping tears away from her eyes as she looked over what little she could see from her vantage point.
And I can't change, even if I tried, even if I wanted to.
She hated nights like this. When her confusion got to her. When she couldn't get her best friend out of her head.
And I can't change.
Her perfect smile. Pretty, flawless skin.
Even if I tried.
Her helpfulness. Her kindness.
Even if I wanted to.
Her smarts. And the way she always had time for Melody.
My love, my love, my love.
Gloria… who would never feel the same way.
More tears cascaded down Melody's cheeks as she tried to stifle her sobs.
Gloria was dating Sheldon. Constantly telling Melody how happy he made her.
She keeps me warm.
There was no way Melody could ever tell Gloria she felt.
She keeps me warm.
Cornelius sat in the school library. It was thirty minutes after curfew. He was supposed to be researching for a history project. Instead he found himself thinking.
Gay is synonymous with the lesser.
And accompanying his thoughts was an overwhelming anger.
It's the same hate that's caused wars from religion.
Someone, he still hadn't figured out who, had spray painted the word 'faggot' on his locker.
Gender to skin color, the complexion of your pigment.
Grinding his teeth, Cornelius tried to refocus. And for a short time, he did. In that time, it was just him and the immortal words of Martin Luther King Jr.
"I have a dream." He whispered.
The same fight that led people to walk outs and sit ins.
His dream? That maybe one day he could stand up, without fear of ridicule or violence, and tell the world everything about himself. And be proud. Unashamed.
That's human rights for everybody, there is no difference.
Cornelius didn't want to be afraid or timid about it. So what if he liked boys? Was he not worthy of the same rights as every other human being? What was the point of hiding? Was hiding his truth from the world doing any good?
He was starting to see that being silent was never going to change a thing.
Live on and be yourself.
Gord suddenly stopped his whispered prayer, turning to Vance again.
"I don't ever see you at services."
Vance stopped his prayer and glanced at the boy beside him, then up at the crucifix mounted to the wall above the alter.
"No. I don't think I'd be welcome. Services here always seem more for the better half. Not for people like me."
When I was at church they taught me something else.
Gord let that sink in and realized he had no reply. He settled for another question instead.
"Do you ask for forgiveness here every day?"
"No." Vance admitted. "Just when I feel I've been tempted."
If you preach hate at the service, those words aren't anointed.
They stared at each other for a moment.
"What was your temptation today?" Gord ventured.
Vance figured he had already told the kid so much, it wouldn't matter if he shared this information at this point.
"That Hopkins kid kissed me."
That holy water that you soak in has been poisoned.
Peter Kowalski didn't condone vandalism, but he was gladly partaking in it late this New Year's Eve. Six cans of brightly colored spray paint rested on the ground by his feet. He held a spray can of black paint in his hand. He stood by the main doors of the school building, spray painting the cement. As he did so, he was remembering how Jimmy had come out to him earlier that evening.
Jimmy had expressed feelings of fear, and how he felt alone.
When everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless.
Peter wasn't afraid to show his support to his friend. Even if he got in trouble. He was going to try to start a spark.
If what Jimmy said was true, which it probably was, there were more than a few teens on campus who needed to see this support. Needed to know they weren't alone.
Rather than fighting for humans that have had their rights stolen.
That they had people on their side.
Pete may not have had to deal with those struggles, but that wasn't going to stop him. He could be supportive even though he was straight.
I might not be the same, but that's not important.
The sound of footsteps made Petey turn around. Jimmy was walking up the steps, bundled against the bitter cold.
"What did you want, Pete?" he asked.
Peter grinned and stepped aside, showing Jimmy his project.
A four foot by two and a half foot rectangle. Filled in with stripes in every color of the rainbow. Black words above it read: Petition- Bullworth GSA.
No freedom until we're equal.
Out of his pocket, Peter pulled out a sharpie. He crouched down and wrote his name on the painted cement. Standing back up, he handed the sharpie over to Jimmy.
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, but did sign his name. As he stood back up, Peter checked his watch.
"I'm about fifteen minutes early, but Happy New Year, Jim."
Damn right I support it.
Duncan limped through Blue Skies Industrial Park, passing the Harrington Shipping Warehouse and heading towards Happy Volts. He was going to take shelter in a tunnel for a few hours.
And I can't change.
Better to have some protection from the elements on nights like this. He didn't want to pass out in the open and get covered in snow. His chances of waking up were greatly decreased if that happened.
Duncan pulled his coat tighter around himself.
Even if I tried.
Freezing cold air made his lungs burn as he took quick, shallow breaths. Any attempt at normal breathing made the left side of his ribcage sear to life with pain. He briefly wondered if they were broken. Praying they weren't. Duncan didn't want to explain to any of his friends how his ribs had been broken.
He chuckled bitterly, knowing he's only have to let them know that it had been New Year's Eve.
Even if I wanted to.
His friends would know instantly that Duncan's old man had gotten drunk, gotten mean, and proceeded to try his damndest to beat his son to death.
Things hadn't always been this way. This bad. Sure, he had gotten slugged a couple times, but his pop had never tried to kill him.
Not before he found out Duncan was gay.
My love, my love, my love.
He hadn't been expecting his dad home from work early that day.
So, it had been quite a shock to have his dad walk in while he was fellating his boyfriend on the living room couch.
Up to that point, he had never been hit so hard by his father. That had been some months ago now.
He keeps me warm.
Not a week later, the boy Duncan had been seeing had called it off. Just adding insult to literal injury.
Things weren't going to be the same between him and his dad. Ever.
He keeps me warm.
He usually crashed on a couch most nights. He had learned his father was not above trying to smother Duncan in his sleep.
Now that Duncan was less than a person in his dad's eyes.
Duncan had miraculously managed to limp all the way to the tunnel. His vision kept fading in and out, and he wasted no time collapsing to the hard packed ground, so grateful he landed on his right side.
He keeps me warm.
The tunnel wasn't toasty by any means, but it was better than being out in the open. The short walk from his home to the tunnel had blown his cheeks raw, the strong wind was so frigid.
He knew that in a few hours Jerry would be off work. He was always welcome to Jerry's couch.
That was the last thought he managed before blacking out.
He keeps me warm.
Trent was amazed that the dorm television was able to pick up reception for the channel broadcasting the New Year's Eve Ball Drop. But it did. Barely.
All the boys who couldn't or wouldn't ring in the New Year at home were crammed into the rec room.
Cans of Beam Cola replaced champagne. Most of the guys had festive hats on and assorted noise makers in hand.
This was a night were the cliques called truce and just enjoyed a mass gathering. There were Nerds, Bullies, Greasers, and Jocks.
One Jock in particular held his attention as he scanned the room. Kirby met Trent's gaze but quickly looked away, his face undoubtedly burning.
He had been avoiding Trent lately. He didn't want to focus on the feelings that had only grown more intense since the year before. Knowing he was too afraid of what the other guys on the team would think to do anything about it made his chest ache.
When kids are walking around the hallway plagued by pain in their hearts.
Trent knew Kirby had been avoiding him, so was not surprised when Kirby left while Trent was getting a Beam out of the machine.
Trent was really getting tired of these games. Last year he had thought there had been something between them. Now… this.
Trent wanted answers, so he made up his mind to get them. He paid for an extra Cola and followed Kirby to his dorm room.
A world so hateful some would rather die than be who they are.
Kirby hadn't bothered to shut the door behind him. It wasn't like he was running away exactly. Just the rec room had suddenly seemed uncomfortably warm.
Trent gently rapped on the open door.
"Knock, knock." He said, lopsided smile on his face.
"Oh. Hey." Kirby said, ignoring the pounding in his chest as he turned to face the teen in his door way.
"Hey yourself. Brought you something." Trent said, offering Kirby a can of Beam.
Kirby muttered his thanks as he sat on his bed.
Trent, not caring to wait for an invitation, entered the room and joined him.
A moment of silence passed between the two.
"Why have you been avoiding me?" Trent asked, popping open his Cola.
"I'm sorry." Kirby figured there was no point denying it, so he skipped to his apology.
A certificate on paper isn't going to change it all.
"You don't like me anymore?" Trent asked, looking into Kirby's eyes.
The Jock's eyes widened.
"I still do!" Kirby looked down at his shoes. "It's just…"
"What?" Trent prompted, happy to maybe be getting somewhere with the boy he liked for the first time in a year.
From down the hall, the countdown began.
"Ten… Nine…"
"I'm scared." Kirby admitted, glancing back at Trent.
"Don't be."
"Eight… Seven…"
"What if I have to quit the team?"
"They can't make you do that."
"Six… Five…"
Trent suddenly had a smooth idea.
"You know, I've heard that if you kiss in the first ten seconds of the new year, you'll have good luck."
"Four… Three…"
Kirby smiled, a pink tinge gracing his face.
"Two!"
"Up to giving it a try?"
"ONE!"
Kirby nodded.
"Happy New Year!"
As cheers, the sound of soda cans being clunked, horns being blown, and some of the boys starting up an off tune rendition of Auld Lang Syne, came from the rec room. Trent cupped Kirby's chin with his free hand and pressed their lips together.
But it's a damn good place to start.
Sitting on the stairs outside the front of the school building, Peter and Jimmy rang in the New Year sharing a cigarette.
"Thanks, Pete." Jimmy exhaled, passing the smoke to the smaller male.
"No problem. It's the least I can do." He answered, taking a drag.
No law is going to change us.
"Think anyone else will sign?" Jimmy asked.
Pete thought about it for a moment.
"God. I hope so. Otherwise we're both in hot water." He passed the cig back to Jimmy.
"I guess we'll see." James responded, chuckling as he exhaled into the silent winter night.
We have to change us.
Gord couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. Vance scowled.
"What's so funny, huh?"
Gord stopped, not wanting to offend the Greaser. But his eyes twinkled, still laughing.
"Hopkins sent me here today too. He certainly seems to get around."
At that, Vance did chuckle.
"He certainly does." He agreed.
Whatever God you believe in.
"How about we get out of here?" Gord suggested as he got to his feet.
"That don't sound too bad." Vance stood as well.
They walked back out into the cold together and stood outside the archway for a moment, not speaking.
"I do believe we've already rung in the New Year." Gord broke the silence after glancing at his watch.
"Happy New Year then paly." Vance said, smirking.
"Yes. Happy New Year." Gord returned Vance's smile.
"And to properly bring it in, I have a little somethin'." Vance pulled a stainless steel flask out of his breast pocket.
"Oh. I couldn't." Gord declined politely.
"It'll keep you warm on the way home." Vance reasoned, unscrewing the cap and taking a quick swig.
"Well…"
"One sip won't hurt you. 'Sides, it's a special occasion."
All very valid points, Gord conceded.
"Alright." He took a swig, making a face as he swallowed the whiskey.
Vance chuckled, his heart pounding. The face the Prep made was pretty cute.
We come from the same one.
As Cornelius walked into the dorm amid the post ball drop festivities, he spotted Bucky, Algernon, and Melvin standing in a corner.
He had come back to the dorm as a man on a mission.
Strip away the fear underneath, it's all the same love.
"May I have a word with you all?" he asked, "A private word?"
"Sure." Melvin answered, sharing a curious glance with his fellows.
Cornelius led the way to his dorm room. He waited for the three to file in before closing the door behind them.
"I've called this private counsel to get something off my chest. I would greatly appreciate your secrecy in this matter. I don't want this spreading through the school." Cornelius started.
"Of course. What troubles you, brethren?" Melvin asked.
"I have only one thing to say." He continued.
About time that we raised up.
Duncan woke up on Jerry's couch, confused. Jerry sat by a small window of his trailer that he had cracked open, smoking.
"How did I get here?" he croaked, throat raw from breathing in frozen air.
"When you didn't show up at the usual time, I went looking for you. When I found you, I just about made up my mind to murder your old man. Got Gurney to help me get you here."
Duncan sat up with a groan, hissing at the pain in his ribcage.
"Can I bum a smoke?" he asked timidly.
Jerry chuckled as he tossed an unopened pack of cigs at his childhood friend.
"You never change… But hell, I wouldn't want you any other way?"
"Thanks." Duncan murmured, gentle smile on his face as he pushed a cig between his lips.
And I can't change. Even if I tried. Even if I wanted to.
-End-
This is something a little different from me. I've been wanting to write a one shot for a while, I just didn't know about what. I'd heard Same Love by Macklemore a few times in the last two weeks, but one night this just clicked. Thinking about the song and all the gay teens that you come across in game. Life in the little town of Bullworth seemed to be the perfect catalyst for Same Love. All of the different backgrounds, possibility for interaction, and I wanted to touch on different stages of figuring out ones sexuality. While I'm actually touching on it in W.S.E., I wanted to go into it a little more.
I tried to stick with canon as much as possible. So, sorry to disappoint, but Peter isn't gay in this one. Just a supportive friend. Melody was kind of in a grey area. Yes, I know a girl liking sports doesn't automatically make her a lesbian. I just wanted an example of a female.
This fic is supposed to take place during Jimmy's second year at Bullworth. In order to make this fic work I had to cut out some lyrics and change others. I chose New Year's Eve to symbolically represent moving forward.
Duncan was not supposed to get his second appearance originally, but I didn't want anyone thinking I let him freeze to death.
I'll be posting chapter eight of Worst Situation EVER in about a week.
Let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from you.