summary: in which society does not take kindly to the fact that connor dances ballet

tw: bullying/hinted homophobia

chapter title from american idiot the musical

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"What did you think of my dance, Daddy?"

There was a brief moment of tense silence in the car, and Cynthia looked expectantly at her husband as they all waited for his response.

"Ah," he cleared his throat, awkwardly tapping his finger against the steering wheel. "It was… I wish you'd put the effort you put into dance into sports, Connor. You'd go far, I think you really would."

Connor couldn't help the disappointment that immediately bubbled up inside him. Of course Larry hadn't liked his dance. It wasn't good enough. Why did he ever think of getting his hopes up? Larry would never like the fact that his son—his oldest child, his only son—liked to dance ballet. His dad was probably so embarrassed right now, because of him, because he couldn't behave like a normal boy.

He leaned back in his seat, trying not to let the tears well up.

Just then, Zoe piped up, "I thought Connor's dance was good!"

He looked over at her and she smiled. He smiled back gratefully.

"Yes, Connor, you and Zoe both did great today!" Cynthia added, maybe a little bit too enthusiastically, and Connor mumbled a half-hearted "Thanks." Part of him was telling him that they were just trying to make him feel better, and that they didn't really mean it. His dance really wasn't that great.

However, he cheered up significantly as they pulled up at A La Mode. "I'm so hungry, I think I could eat all the ice-cream in the shop!" He exclaimed as they headed in. The lady behind the counter laughed.

Cynthia chuckled. "Sorry, bud, you gotta keep it to one scoop."

"I want strawberry," Zoe decided.

"And I want chocolate chip," Connor added.

"We can definitely do that," Cynthia agreed, "now why don't you guys go find a booth to sit in? Daddy and I'll get the ice-cream."

The two of them slide into one of the empty booths, followed shortly by Larry and Cynthia, with the ice-cream and milkshakes. The kids eagerly dug into their ice-creams, not speaking a word until they had finished nearly half.

"So, did you have a good time this evening?" Cynthia asked.

They nodded. "I liked my dance, it was fun," Zoe said, shoveling another spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth and wincing a little at the cold.

"Was it scary?"

"Nope!" She said proudly.

Connor poked at his ice-cream, which was beginning to melt. "It was a bit scary at first, but I still had fun."

Larry was quietly sipping his milkshake, looking as if he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know how to. Finally, he pushed his drink aside and said, "Connor, I… I wish you would take Little League as seriously as you took your dance classes."

Connor groaned loudly and slumped against the back of the booth. "Dad… I like dance. I don't like baseball."

Larry sighed. "Well, maybe—"

But Cynthia cut him off with a gentle nudge of her elbow. "Larry, please, not now." He grumbled something Connor couldn't make out and returned to his drink.

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Later that night, Connor was getting ready for bed, and was heading downstairs for one last drink of water. But when he got to the foot of the staircase, he heard his parents arguing in the kitchen. He hesitated, trying to listen in and assess the situation before going in to get his drink.

"—should just let him enjoy the night!"

"I didn't say that I wasn't!"

"In the car, couldn't you just give him a word of praise?"

"I don't want to encourage that kind of behavior."

Oh.

They were talking about his dance.

"He enjoys it, can't you see that? At least offer some support!"

"Thea, ballet isn't something boys should be doing."

"Bullshit! He likes it, just give him a break. How would you like it if your dad didn't support your playing baseball?"

"That's different."

"Not, it isn't."

"You're being ridiculous. You know I want what's best for him."

"Well, you certainly don't seem to show it," Cynthia muttered.

He sighed. "I know he doesn't like baseball, but I need to push him, help him develop his coordination, his sportsmanship."

"This isn't about baseball, it's about ballet. Did you see how unhappy he was in the car? When you wouldn't even acknowledge his dance?"

"Look, we can't be happy all the time, right?"

Connor decided that he didn't want to hear any more, and he didn't really need that drink. He returned to bed, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

Sometimes he wondered why his parents fought so much. He wondered if they didn't like each other. Sometimes he would fight with Zoe, but afterwards they would be okay and play together again. After his parents fought, they wouldn't talk to each other for the next day or two.

He also wondered what else might happen. He knew that one of the boys in his class said that his parents fought a lot. And then they had gotten a divorce. Which meant that his dad got a U-Haul and left his mom and moved to another state because they didn't want to be with each other anymore.

Connor didn't want his parents to get a divorce.

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It was the first day back to school after Christmas break. Connor was placing his books inside his locker, when someone grabbed the collar of his shirt and spun him around, slamming his back into the locker.

"What the heck?" he managed to wheeze out, as he found himself face to face with Marcus, one of the boys who was one grade higher than him. The two never interacted, and Connor had no idea what Marcus might want with him.

"If it isn't the sissy Connor Murphy!" Marcus sneered, his grip on Connor's shirt not loosening.

Connor's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, trying to pry Marcus' fingers loose.

Marcus grinned meanly at him. "Remember your Christmas dance recital?"

Connor paled. No no no, this had to be a trick, no one at school knew that he danced. "What?" he finally squeaked out.

Marcus chuckled. "My sister takes dance at that studio, too. My parents forced me to go to her recital. And guess who I saw dancing ballet? You."

He finally let go of Connor's collar, but remained standing in a way that trapped Connor between him and the lockers. "Are you gay?"

Connor flushed crimson. "Of course not," he scowled, trying to hide the shame and fear that seemed to be ready to eat him up.

Just then, Jared happened to walk past, and before he even knew what was happening, Marcus reached out and grabbed his arm. Jared let out a startled yelp as Marcus dragged him over. Connor looked between the two of them, silently begging Marcus not to tell anyone. Jared just looked bewildered and a little frightened.

"Guess what Murphy's been up to," Marcus gloated, evidently enjoying the panic that was written across Connor's face.

"Marcus, don't," he pleaded.

Jared looked interested now. "What?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

"He's a ballerina," Marcus laughed loudly.

Jared gawked, momentarily stunned into silence. "No way."

"I saw him dance at my sister's recital."

"Holy crap," Jared shook his head, adjusting his glasses up his nose. "You're such a freak."

He started down the corridor towards the classroom, leaving Connor face to face with Marcus.

"Piss off," Connor snapped at Marcus.

"Nuh uh, I'm not done with you yet," Marcus began, but suddenly stumbled to the side as if he'd been shoved.

"You leave my brother alone," Zoe snarled. Despite her twin pigtails and pink backpack, she looked incredibly fierce at that moment, but even so, Connor couldn't help but feel concerned at what Marcus might do to her.

"Oh, it's Connor's baby sister," Marcus teased, as he turned to face her.

"Leave Connor alone," she hissed.

He laughed, folding his arms across his chest. "Oh yeah? Or else? What will you do to me?"

Zoe stood her ground, folding her arms and glaring up at him. "Or else I'll tell your crushSabrina Patel what you did at Nicole's house on Wednesday, and then she won't want to marry you anymore," she said calmly and evenly.

Marcus turned red and spluttered out something unintelligible, before stomping off towards the classrooms.

Zoe stuck her tongue out at his retreating figure, and Connor couldn't help but laugh, despite still feeling shaken up after the incident. "Thanks, sis," he said quietly as he bent down to pick up his books from the floor.

"Yeah, no problem," she shrugged. "Marcus is a stupid meanie."

"What happened at Nicole's house?" he asked curiously.

She giggled. "He spilled orange juice all over his shirt and then cried like a baby."

Connor laughed, too. Then he paused, a little more subdued. "Mummy always says I should protect you, 'cause I'm older… but it's just, I don't know, weird? Because a lot of times it's like you're protecting me." He looked down at his shoes. "I'm not a very good big brother."

"No," Zoe countered playfully. "I have to protect you because I am the tallerone!" She winked, then added, "Also, I'm bigger, and you're smaller. Even though you're older."

"Hey!" he reprimanded, tugging at one of her pigtails.

She batted at his hand. "Oh, go away."

"Okay," he nodded. "I'm going to class."

"Okay, bye, Connor."

"Bye Zo-Zo, I love you."

"I love you, too."

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