Just a little forewarning - neither the band nor the song I reference in this fic are real. But if they were, they'd probably kick some serious ass.
"Have yourself a…melancholy little Christmas…." I quietly sang to myself in my dimly lit room. "When golden idols have no more place, stare yourself in the face and realize it's only a mirror…." Everything was dark, and bitterly cold. Even with my window closed, the Christmas Eve chill still worked its way inside and tickled the bare skin underneath my open vest. Why couldn't it leave me alone? All I wanted was to keep to myself, as I did every holiday season. There was no point in being happy, or jolly, or whatever.
Especially not since this was the year I came out.
"Humans dig themselves a hole too deep, and there's no joy left to keep; Eden draws no nearer." There was no radio in my room, but it wasn't like I needed one to sing along to the song that, at present, captivated me beyond anything. 'Eden', by this really cool Indie group called Mercury, said all that I wanted to in a melodic form – the depression of a man witnessing the devolution of mankind on Christmas night, and knowing he can't do a thing about it, and eating himself in a desperate attempt to make it to Eden, the Promised Land. It's a really deep song, and at the moment, I did sort of feel like eating myself. My soul, at least.
When people talk about coming out of the closet, they always have these reassuring stories: they're still the same person, everyone accepts them, and their parents love them no less. What I'd give to have one of those come true about me….Most people don't understand the inner conflict of a homosexual. I don't think like a normal person does – my sexuality eats away at my sanity until I can barely take it, and I feel like cracking. In fact, just cracking under the pressure, crumbling to the ground in a heap of sand, would probably feel really good. It's just that…that it isn't going to happen anytime soon, and I'm forced to live on as…as one of the freaks.
At least, that's how my parents describe me. One of the most comforting things in the world has to be when you, after a year and a half, finally build up the courage to come out to your loving parents. And they call you a freak, say they're disappointed, ashamed even, and that you can't be gay, you just can't. Your mom nearly breaks down and your dad's infuriated beyond belief because "if you wanted to like boys you should've come out a girl".
But that's not it. I forgot to mention the five psychologists they forced me to see, in attempts to make me "realize I'm not gay". Sorry, but I don't find women attractive – I don't get them, they're too jiggly, and the only female influence I've had in my life has been my dear, chain-smoking, booze-riddled mother. Whom my dad simply adores. And everyone says is a good singer, even though she sounds like Janis Joplin (seriously, the first time I heard "Piece of My Heart", I swore it was a guy singing). And these bozos, the psychologists, made me stare at inkblots on a piece of paper and say what they looked like. Newsflash: they look like a freaking inkblot. What am I supposed to say? "They look the dark, conflicted inner turmoil of my soul"? And when the psychologists told my parents that I was "a perfectly normal teenager", you should've heard my mother explode that the doctors were frauds and that homosexuality is a mental disorder.
Newsflash: they de-listed being gay as a disorder in the 70s.
And, as if my life wasn't already screwed up enough by my parents going ballistic, school was something completely different. My parents screamed so loud when I came out, I think the whole neighborhood heard. Because a few days later, as I was walking around the high school campus, people kept staring at me. And whispering. And pointing. And whispering some more. Most of what I caught consisted of, "You mean he's really-?" or "Stay away, Demy, or he'll pounce on you" or "Look, it's the fag". And I don't think they were talking about cigarettes.
Okay, I won't be totally depressed and start lying. There were a lot of people who accepted me, were actually quite thrilled, when I told them. Some of the obvious ones were Axel and Roxas, the two gays (well, I think Roxas is bisexual because he went out with Namine, but who knows? Elton John said he was bi at first) in the sophomore class and my first couple periods, and Kairi, my best friend since kindergarten. Most of my teachers were straight as wood, but were past prejudices, and were always in my defense.
And then there was Riku. Riku, the sexiest person at school, the sunshine when it's cloudy, a master of syntax and the English language, and the single reason I was in a severe depression on Christmas Eve. He and I had met in second or third grade when he stole my ball. He thought he was super cool – that is, until I tackled him to get my ball back. After that, we hit it off and became pretty good friends. You know, the whole 'I got your back, you got mine' deal. And things stayed at that level for a few years, before we elevated to "best friend" status.
Of course, that all changed when I finally plucked up the courage to tell him. Don't ask me how I did it, or why I was crazy enough to, because I still don't know. All I know is that one day, I cornered him in the hallway before school, when no one was around, and said this, and I quote: "I was just wondering, you know, if, maybe, say, I turned out to…heh heh…swing that way…if, maybe, there would ever…you know…be a chance for you and me?"
Pretty stupid, right?
And Riku looked at me and said, with the most beautiful, cute expression on his face: "Do you mind repeating that? I didn't understand a word you just said."
So, naturally, I did the first thing that came to mind. Figuring that my mouth couldn't speak correctly, I decided to put it to…um…better uses. I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him in. I closed my eyes, because I didn't want to see the disgusted look on his face. Nevertheless, though, I did it – I kissed him. Right there, right for the security cameras to see, and the video to later be used by the principal as blackmail to get me to join the track team (but, by that time, it was common knowledge that I liked guys, so that was a pretty lousy attempt on his part. I didn't join). And, God, it was so amazing, despite the blunt one-sidedness. When I imagined kissing Riku, I thought he'd taste like the ocean; or minty, salty air in an early winter morning. Just like all the stories and such claimed.
Well, turns out he tasted like the inside of someone's mouth. Very plain, even though I caught some spit of his that I swear had to be made of watered-down Sprite. Was it anticlimactic? Well, yeah. But was I disappointed? No, not a bit. Because I was kissing my Riku.
He made sure to reprimand me for believing he was 'my Riku'. Mostly, that consisted of ripping his face away from mine and shoving me to the cold floor that smelled eerily of lemon Pledge. Unfortunately, it also tasted that way, which is why, since then, I've made no attempt to stop myself from falling, but making sure I don't lick the ground. Trust me, the taste of the school floor is one of the five most damning experiences of my life – it was as if God had just washed the flavor of Riku out of my mouth with soap.
But the big man Upstairs didn't stop there. Riku immediately started to retch, trying to wash his mouth out but finding nothing to accomplish that with (isn't that ironic?).
When I struggled back to my feet, my best friend/love interest/porn star in my head yelled at me with vivacity unequalled in the history of rejection. My mind was buzzing from the lemon Pledge and kissing Riku, so I didn't quite hear what he was screaming. However, I believe it went something along the lines of (and I'm taking a little poetic license with this outburst), "WHAT THE FUCK?!!!"
As I said before, Riku's the unparalleled master of syntax.
Anyway, I must've looked real pathetic, because I swear Riku was thiiiiiiiiiiiiiis close to apologizing. Something had to have come over him, because he spat at me without waiting for an explanation (though that probably would've consisted of my professing how perfect he was, which probably would've made him even madder) and turned and ran away.
He ran away. Riku, like most everyone else, had left me in a dead sprint when I put my absolute faith in them. Maybe that was punishment from God for breaking one of the Commandments; you know, the one that says, 'you shall not worship any gods alongside me,' or something along those lines. At least, I think that's one of the Commandments – my hold on Christian faith has been stretched a lot lately.
I tried to follow him – I swear to you, on my life, that I did my best to make him stop and understand. But he was too fast, and God had it out for me that day. As soon as I stepped outside, a bitter chill swept around me, freezing me past the bone, when not ten minutes earlier the sun had been shining overhead. In fact, the sun was still up not too far away. Sure, it was slowly being pushed aside by huge black clouds that foretold of a coming storm (or flood, I don't know how original He can be after ten thousand years, give or take a few, of that whole Ruler of the Universe gig), but I tell you that the sun was following Riku! It wasn't done there, though – once I stepped out from under the covering of the school's obscure roof, I lost my footing. Maybe crashing on black ice has some good qualities, because that felt a lot better than the lemon Pledge school floor, but for the most part it hurt like hell. Like I said, God had it out for me that day.
Is it too hard to tell why I'm not jumping at the idea of celebrating the birth of his kid?
Riku avoided me with all his heart and soul for the next week or so. Somehow, he found a way to not cross over my route to all my classes at all. He even managed to sit across from me in both classes we took together. Don't ask me how that one happened; I think my teachers were stoned out of their minds and were lax on their usually strict seating chart. No other explanation.
After that week, school let out for the Christmas Break, which would mean over two weeks of Riku mysteriously disappearing every time I tried to get into contact with him. It sucked worse than anything I can imagine (except, possibly, lemon Pledge). Whenever I called, he was always "busy" or "at a friend's house". I swear, trying to find him was like going on a freaking scavenger hunt – 'go to the corner of 9th and Oriental', or 'on the magazine stand at the gas station', or 'go directly to jail, do not pass GO, and do not collect $200'. Crap like that that never does seem to end.
And so, since Kairi had plans for Christmas, Axel and Roxas were at the amusement park, and my parents could barely stand to look at me, I wallowed in my misery. Alone. In my room. Where I would be all night, if anyone was wondering where to find poor old me.
I let out a sigh and rolled over, letting my exposed belly soak up all the cool night air it wanted. Really, since I had nothing better to do, why did I have to let my body pay the price? Things weren't supposed to be this way on Christmas Eve – you were supposed to be dreaming about all the toys and games and ugly hand-knitted sweaters from Grandma, because the holiday's become so commercialized. My parents didn't get me anything fancy, just small stuff that I'd use once and then not even touch ever again.
Santa stopped coming to our house last year. Coincidence? I think not.
Nothing's been any fun since I came out. I've been practically alone, and it's terribly…terrible. Sighing, I felt a tear slip down my cheek. 'Eden' came to its conclusion on the radio: 'It's all around me and I can't hide; so in you I will confide that I shall find humanity on the other side'. The sounds of screams slowly faded away in a grim diminuendo until all that filled my room was silence. Bleak, depressing, yet unassuming, silence.
"Such a sad song…." I mused to myself. "The guy eats himself to death. That's gotta be a pretty grisly way to go…wonder if he ever found humanity…?"
"You obviously haven't heard the next part."
My eyes snapped open and I bolted up in bed. I peered around, trying to see who'd spoken, but seeing no one. Nothing. Getting up slowly, I carefully tiptoed to the window and looked out.
No one.
Figuring my mind was finally getting the better of me, I turned and started back to bed.
That was when I saw who was talking, standing right there against the door with one leg planted against the wall and arms crossed; cocky smirk; piercing eyes. I knew that face, that body, without a doubt in my mind. But it was still unbelievable nonetheless.
"Riku!" I said in a flabbergasted tone. "Wh-what are you doing here?!"
He looked at me with a smile. "The sequel to Eden says that the protagonist didn't die ,and that it was him who was less than human. Really, you shouldn't listen to just one track.
"Anyway, I heard from Kairi that you were feeling pretty down the last time she talked to you. Figured I'd better come over and check on you."
"B-but…." I protested, raising a finger to him. "You ran away. I thought you didn't want anything to do with me after…." That was one thought I couldn't bear to finish out loud. Damn, I sounded like a loser.
But Riku laughed it off. "I should really apologize for that," he told me. "It was just…unexpected, that's all. I didn't know what else to do but run away and…and think it over." Shrugging his shoulders, the smile faded for a quick second. It was back after that, vibrant as ever.
I didn't need this – he'd made himself quite clear with his eloquent three word sentence that day. He wanted nothing to do with me, at least not where love was concerned. Turning away, I said in the most bitter, indifferent tone I could muster, "Shouldn't you be at home salivating over your gifts?"
When he didn't respond, I had to turn back around – he was just standing there, blinking. "Gifts?" he asked. "What gifts?"
"You can't be serious," I retorted. "Christmas equals presents under the tree. Are you that dense?"
Once again, Riku merely blinked. "Oh, I know. But at my house, we don't give gifts; that's not what Christmas is about."
"Oh, so you're suddenly so wise?" I accused. "Fine, then, oh great one. Humor me – what's Christmas all about?"
He looked shocked, taken aback, and…no, that couldn't be right…hurt. Genuinely hurt over that last thing I'd said, which automatically made me feel bad (dammit, empathy is one thing I could do without) and take back my snide comment. And that seemed to help a bit.
Taking a deep breath, Riku said, "The true meaning of Christmas is…is…." He stepped forward, quickly raising his hand; I figured he wanted to hit me, and damned if I didn't deserve it. But as I cringed, I realized nothing was coming down on my face with the force of a falling cinderblock. Instead, something was one my hand; opening my eyes, I peeked down.
Riku had taken my hand in his, and was clutching it – somehow, though, the pressure was gentle. "Christmas is about spending time with the ones you love." And he leaned in, and…oh, God…He kissed me.
Wha-? But, I-? He-? With me-? But I thought he-? What was I-?
He kissed me. Riku, the one I'd longed for ever since I realized my orientation, was kissing me and God – he was KISSING me! – was it fantastic….He tasted incredible, nothing like when I first tried it. Now that he was into it, the flavor was somewhat reminiscent of pepperoni. Mmm….Rikuroni….
And he KISSED me! Me! When I thought he didn't like me tat way, he was KISSING me and holding my hand and KISSING me and putting his hand around my waist and KISSING me and – "Riku, stop squeezing my ass." – KISSING me!
The world suddenly seemed right, and I breathed in deeply; a sigh of relief, for this was how it should be. Maybe Christmas wouldn't be so bad.
Okay God, you win. I give up. You're a good guy. Just don't expect me to go back to church, or anything. I fall asleep there anyway.