This is not a love story.
The McKinley social pyramid or system or whatever it is that the Cheerios call it sucks. I'm on the bottom and therefore not allowed to converse with those above me. I understand why I'm on bottom. It's all because of my attitude, my ability to out shine everyone with my talent, and -
"Oh look there's your ego shining through. Again." My conciensce told me. I really hate that thing. It never really helps me.
Anyways it's my attitude, my ability to out shine everyone, and the plain fact that I'm in Glee. Only an idiot would ever join Glee and of course I was one of those idiots. Most of the people here only showed up because their sport coaches forced them to join. I was reminded of that daily by the football players throwing slushies at me everyday by the command of the Cheerios along with a string of insults such as: Man-hands, Treasure Trail, or Ru-Paul.
However, I will never understand what I ever did to deserve such treatment. Was it because I had gay dads? Was I truly damned for being raised by them? Or was it because I was really worthless? I must be since everyone around here tells me I am. Even the people who are supposed to support me and help to turn the social system here around tell me that they hate me. It was all my fault they were stuck in Glee, since I'm the one who wanted to save it.
Even worse, I am gay too. Just like my dads, but I never told anyone. I didn't want them to become part of some statistic against gays raising kids. Therefore, none of my relationships are long term. I would date girls from the two other schools close to McKinley, but I made them keep it a secret. Most of my relationships didn't really matter to me anyways and I say most because there was one girl I was truly in love with.
It was barely a year ago that we started dating. She was very understanding of my situation. Her name was Angel, which I found amusing because she really was one. She helped me finally feel comfortable around some one other than my dads. She let me take all of the time in the world. She didn't really care if we had to hide our love for each other, 'As long as I have you I will be okay.' She told me that the day I got slushied, not twice, not three times, but four times in just a couple hours. I had immediately left the school, breaking my perfect attendance record, and ran to her crying and insecure.
I cried on and on as she just held me and stroked my hair while reassuring me that she will never leave me. I protested telling her that she couldn't be sure and I questioned her on how much longer she thinks she could take of me being to scared to come out of the closet. That was when she said 'As long as I have you I will be okay.' So in that moment I knew I was in love with her and I wanted everyone to know that.
When I told her the following week that I was ready to come out and gave her a promise ring we had sex for the first time, but we didn't know what we were doing. We were both virgins and it was horrible, yet it was the greatest feeling I had ever come to feel. I was flying sky high, drunk off of love.
We had cuddled together for what seemed like hours after it, but it wasn't long before I got a call from my dads asking where I was. I had said good-bye with a kiss and a promise to come back the next day. We were supposed to plan how we wanted to come out. We never did get to it.
I walked all the way to Angel's house because I wanted some time to myself to gather my ideas for coming out of the closet. It wasn't bad outside. The sun was shining and birds were singing. It was one of the more happier looking days I had ever seen. I would have never expected to find what I did when I finally walked in her front door.
On the floor lay Angel in a pool of what I could only assume was her blood. I let out such a painful sob that God or whoever was up there must have heard it because at that exact moment it began to rain. I rushed over to her body to look for any sign that she was still alive. There was no breath and there was no heartbeat from her. For a second there weren't any from me either before I whipped out my cell phone and called 911.
I could barley get out the address as I tried to steady my breathing and keep calm, but how could I have possibly stayed calm as my girlfriend, the one I lost my virginity to and opened up my heart to, lied there dead. Not breathing and definitely not moving. When I ended the call I crawled backwards until my back hit the wall behind me. I looked up with streams running from my eyes and I could barely make out the message spray painted across the ceiling. It simply read out:
GO TO HELL YOU FUCKING FAG!
My entire world was shattered before my eyes. It was a homophobic hate crime. I couldn't believe my eyes so I furiously wiped the tears out of my eyes and read it again. The message didn't change. First I find the love of my life dead and then find it was a hate crime against gays. As if it couldn't get any worse the police showed up and pulled me out of the house. They wouldn't let me say good-bye to her. They some how got a hold of my dads and they came and picked me up. They tried to comfort me as any loving parent would, but I didn't want their pity.
I was surprisingly allowed to attend her funeral, even if Angel's mother blamed me for her death. I think my dads threatened to sue her or something in order for me to go though. I paid my respects quietly, just like every other person there, but for me I was just saying 'see ya soon.'
So, no. This isn't a love story. It's my coming out story and I'm coming out with a bang. Literally.