I kept wanting to do something for this song and then decided to go for it. The whole fic is inspired by the song "Who Are You" by The Who, The Mighty Boosh belongs to Julian and Noel.
Sometimes he would look in the mirror when Howard was out, just stare at himself without the makeup. Sometimes he would slip out of his clothes, just sit on his bed cross-legged and observe. He scrutinized his reflection, noticing the way a certain part of his hair curled or bringing up a hand to run along his nose.
He always marveled at the way his elbows jutted out as his hands rested on his legs, like white, dead spiders, thin and useless. Often times he would swell with pride, noticing the way that the light cast a shadow under every rib. Thin. Thin was in style and to be thin meant acceptance. Couldn't be loved if he wasn't.
But there were other times when he would frown, bite his lip and watch the mirror-Vince do the same. He would bite down so hard that blood would run down his bottom lip, down his chin, fall onto the bedspread or his skin. Too thin. Too pale. Too vain but what was he, really, if he wasn't that?
There was a time, he remembered, when he had been wandering around, before he had met Howard, after living with Bryan Ferry and when he hadn't been attending school. He had known who he was, what he would be doing with his life, and even after meeting up with Howard and working at the zoo, when he would find himself staring at his reflection in the mirror, he knew exactly what he was doing.
Now he wasn't sure.
It was always costumes with him, outrageous and spanning across the colour spectrum, all in his closet according to style and whether or not it was alright to wear or if he should get rid of it sometime in the future. He did his hair, he applied the eyeliner and would go tottering out on heels that normal people weren't meant to wear.
But I'm not normal. He constantly thinks this as he fingers locks of his hair, notices up close that they don't look like natural black hair should. It looks dead, dull, and for a moment he's gripped with panic that perhaps someone he's been with has noticed this and been disgusted.
Sometimes when Howard is out, he wonders what he thinks. What if he was to just go up and kiss him, in front of Naboo, Bollo... anyone, really. What would the reaction be?
Did Howard think his hair was dull and ugly? Sometimes Vince can't stand looking at himself and as he sits on the bed he curls in upon himself and clutches at his hair, screaming into his lap as he tugs and pulls until he pulls his hands away and finds some of his hair still wrapped around his fingers.
Other times he stares at the mirror-Vince and wonders who it is he's seeing.
And sometimes he'll punch the mirror, just to see how the other reacts.