Beard

(Friday Afternoon, August 9th)

When Chad clicks on the email chat notification, Bernard reminds him, "Your father doesn't want you speaking to Ben right now."

Chad faces the guard, "You have to at least let me tell him that." and when he doesn't speak, Chad returns his eyes to the screen.

Ben: Your father told me what happened. You better clean up your act. I would start by turning in your pixie sticks for icebreakers, before he starts blaming everything on your sugar highs. He thinks your behavior and 'new' interests are a sign.

Chad rereads the message, before he types back: Got it, but you can't talk to me anymore. He thinks my friends are encouraging my interests. He probably won't want me talking to any guys at all. This school year's going to suck ass.

After a minute Bernard begins, "Prince Chad."

"He's typing," Chad interrupts.

Ben: I understand. Talk to you later.

"Don't respond," the guard inputs. "You won't be able to say goodbye."

Chad turns to him, "You're more than just a guard with a buzzcut, aren't you?"

"I've lost a lot of people in my life," he informs. "It was always easier not to say goodbye. But that's just my opinion. If you want to say goodbye, you should do it in person."

"It's not goodbye," Chad glances down, before he turns back to the laptop. "I'll see Ben again. All I need to do is get myself a beard and then I'm out of here."

"Facial hair?"

Chad frowns at him, "Yes. Facial hair would solve all my problems." He faces the screen, exits the text box, and raises his eyebrows, "I guess if I had a beard, I could get a fake ID, move to the city, and run an underground sex trafficking club. There's money in that." He smiles, "I could just kidnap all the straight people in the world and turn them gay. And all I would have to do is rape everyone." He meets the guard's eyes, "Because, homosexuality is contagious."

"I got that," he notes.

Chad notices the emails, "Fucking stalker."

"What?" Bernard inquires.

"Nothing," Chad shakes his head, before he deletes three of the new emails from Professor Hawthorne. "This dumbass teacher doesn't understand, I'm not in his class."

Chad stares at the screen, and the guard questions, "Prince Chad?"

"I'm taking a shower," Chad distracts, before he strides over to the bathroom and locks himself inside. He's forgotten clean clothes, but it doesn't matter. He turns on the shower, takes the pills out, and he takes a couple. He wipes the excess powder from his nose and stares into the bottle. He could take them all, but then he wouldn't get to say goodbye to Ben. He has to at least say goodbye, a kiss before he ends his suffering. Ben probably wouldn't even mind. Somehow the more out-of-control he gets, the more Ben lets him get away with stuff. A month ago, Ben wanted him to tell his parents about the drugs and get help. Today he's helping him hide them. Icebreakers, he said. They look close enough, but pills have writing on them. They would make the same sound, though, and a quick glance might even make a pass. It could work.

When Chad's father enters the bedroom, he informs, "Dinner's ready."

Chad stares at the ceiling, as he lays on his bed, "Yeah."

"Coming down?" Chad fails to answer, and his father eyes the objects surrounding the bed, "What's with the toys?"

He murmurs, "They keep me safe when I'm asleep."

"Like Dino," he assumes.

"No," Chad continues to frown. "Dino's special."

"Right," his father slowly replies. "Chad." He walks over to him, but the ring of sports' equipment and game pieces block him from the bed. "I care about you. I know you can't see it right now, but everything I'm doing right now is for you and your future."

"What future?" Chad whispers.

"One where you can rule your kingdom without being a hypocrite," he answers. "You have a real good shot at a life any peasant could only dream of. Don't disrespect them by applying the law to them but not to yourself."

"I would never make homosexuality a crime," Chad counters. "And just like Ben, I don't plan on enforcing it."

"I know you think highly of Ben," his father argues, "but with enough evidence and push, even he wouldn't be able to keep the law from affecting you. You need to get a hold on this."

Chad continues to stare at the ceiling, "Is that it?"

He sighs, "Yes. That's it. Clean up some of these toys, please. If you don't come to dinner, we're bringing something to you."

After King Charming leaves, Bernard asks, "Are you going to clean up the toys?"

"No."

He offers, "Do you want me to pick up some of them for you?"

"No," Chad says again. "Tables aren't traps. Small things are. They're invisible."

The guard finds the foldable TV tray and maneuvers the table in between the toys, "How's this?"

Chad glances over, "That's good." before he remembers. "Thank you."

He nods, "You're welcome."

Chad closes his eyes and then there's a knock on the door. He sees his mom enter and sighs, "I'm coming down."

"It's been nearly two hours," she informs. Chad checks his alarm clock, as his eyes drift. "If you continue eating like this, we're going to have to ban you from the weight's room."

"Eat like what?" Chad disputes. "In my room?"

"You're not consuming enough food to keep up with your exercise," she opinionates. "That's why you're always tired."

"Or, maybe, I'm just depressed." His mother walks over to him, and he looks at her, "The one time I'm honest about something I don't know how you will react to, and I'm grounded indefinitely with no one allowed to talk to."

"That's not true," she denies.

"Okay." Chad tests, "Tell me when I get to a name of someone I can talk to. Ben. William. Brendan. Carlos. Aziz."

"As good as Aziz is," she interrupts, "you know your father doesn't want to risk the possibility of you being distracted."

"Distracted," Chad huffs. "I don't like Aziz like that."

"Social isolation can have surprising affects."

"Yeah." Chad's eyes widen, "I could start having a two-way conversation with mice."

She calmly comments, "Spend enough time with any animal and you start to understand them. No one thinks it's crazy to talk to a dog or cat."

Chad continues, "What about Mal or Evie? If I'm going to the Isle, I might as well talk to someone who knows what the laws or customs or whatever are."

"You're not going to the Isle of the Lost," she denies, and Chad eyes away. "What about Audrey? You told your father she's been trying to help you."

Chad faces her, "Audrey's only talking to me, because she wants to help. Once she figures out I'm hopeless, she's going to turn her back on me like everyone else."

His mother sets the platter on the small table, "Just think it through. I'm sure you know enough people, where we can find someone suitable for you to talk to."

"Name someone for me," Chad disproves.

"Fairy Godmother's daughter," she suggests.

"Are you saying that I get to spend time with Carlos if there's a girl in the room?"

"No."

"I was going to say," Chad comments, "because those two are like pigs in blankets."

"I was thinking more supervised phone calls or face cam card games." She explains, "Something you can do that wouldn't encourage objectifying anyone."

"That's not even worth it," Chad opinionates. "I'd rather be alone than have some disconnected friendship with someone."

"You haven't been grounded very long," she reminds him. "Maybe you'll change your mind. Three months is a long time."

"I could go on a hunger strike," Chad threatens.

"Don't even joke about that," she sternly says. "Eat." Chad doesn't move, and she comments, "There's a lot of worse places you could be right now. If you get the authorities involved in this matter, we will be seen as unfit—and not just from some hunger strike or strict parenting, but from not getting you help for this mental disease." She starts to cry, "You could be given a one-way ticket to the Isle of the Lost, and we would lose you." Chad looks away from her, and she pleads, "We just want to give you your best chance, but if six months pass and this is still an issue, we're not going to punish you for it. We're on your side."

Chad faces her, "If you were on my side, you would believe me when I say this is who I am." He shakes his head, "If you think I'm ever going to be honest with either of you again, then you're dead wrong."

She shakily breathes, "Just eat, please."

Chad turns the top of the tray so that it swings over the bed. He takes a bite of the steamed vegetables, before he frowns at her, "For the record, I'd rather be on the Isle. At least, then, I would be allowed to own my feelings."

"You mentioned pigs in blankets earlier," she recalls. "If I made some, would you snack on them tomorrow?"

Chad's frown deepens, "Just make sure it's pure beef."

- Posted: 06/26/2020