butterflies // stenbrough

- Bill Part One -

Bill looked himself in the mirror, not recognizing the tearful mess in the glass.
You're gay.
For once, the thought floated through his brain interrupted, no denial, no ignoring it. He was gay.
"Oh my god." He whispered to himself before sinking down on the floor. He couldn't stop the tears from falling down his face, matching the faucet drip. His head was in his knees and his hands in his hair. He wanted to punch something, but he didn't have the strength. All the power in his body had evaporated and he just sat there, defenceless.
"My parents..." He trailed off, afraid of what he might say. Right now, he felt enough shame from himself that he couldn't even fathom taking on everyone else's shame too.
A sob caught in his throat, afraid to alert Stan.
Stan, oh god Stan. What if he finds out? His thoughts had been centred around Stan since the bus ride. He wanted his approval so badly, what if Stan hated him? God, he just wanted everything to stop. He wanted these feelings to stop, he wanted his thoughts to stop, he wanted his life to......
He couldn't think properly, every little thought that tumbled into his brain became his biggest worry. It was chaos. He couldn't even get his own mind into control. A sob escaped from his throat.
"Bill?" Stan asked from the other side of the door.
He knows. His brain ran to his fears. Somehow, Stan knows. He just knows. Fuck, he knows.
"Y-Y-Y-Yes?" He hated how his voice stuttered over such a simple word.
"Just letting you know the kids will be back in five minutes, so you should wrap up.. you know" Stan said.
You know?? That's... Bill let out a little chuckle. He thought Bill was..... oh Bill wished that's just what was happening.
Bill forced his legs to stand again and eyed the reflective glass in front of him. Mirror Bill was officially his enemy. His eyes were red and puffy, with clear tear lines down his cheeks. His hair was a floppy mess, worse than it had ever been. He threw a handful of water onto his face, effectively ridding his face of the tear lines but the redness stayed. His hair was easier, just a few run throughs with a comb and it was fine as ever. He just couldn't get rid of the fucking red eyes. He prayed it would go away by the time the campers came, a single question right now might send him into another crying spell.
"Welcome back!" He heard Stan exclaim, and he knew that he couldn't stay in the bathroom any longer. He took one last look in the mirror, the redness had faded, but not enough for him. But it had to be enough so he took a deep breath and opened the door.
"H-H-H-Hey c-campers!" He hated how even easy words were killing him right now.
"Hey!" The campers replied excitedly, if any of them saw something wrong with him, they didn't let on.
"Hey, are you good?" Stan asked.
"Y-Yes. Why w-wouldn't I b-b-be?" He answered nervously.
"You're stuttering patterns are different. I've never heard you stutter on 'yes' or 'hey' before."
"Some d-d-days are h-h-harder." It was only a half lie. Some days were harder, today was not one of those days. If it hadn't been for that realization, his stutter would have been just fine.

If it wasn't for that realization, everything would have been fine.

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