I look into my mirror, absently fingering the hem of my t-shirt, staring below my collarbone.
The fabric bound around my chest is too tight, but my clothing feels better on top of it.
It hangs how I want it to.
I look like a boy.
But I'm not sure how long I can keep it like that, because my parents are downstairs.
They are home for a week, so business calls and empty dinner tables for me. It's not anything new.
Right now, they are drinking wine out of the crystal glasses, cold in the kitchen or my father's office.
I'm kind of hoping that they'll leave early, like they usually do.
At the same time, it would still hurt.
It's like I don't have parents anyways, so why shatter the image by coming home "to see me"?
I want to be able to walk around the house like this, but I can't if I'm not alone.
Or with people who actually fucking love me.
They always fucking ruin everything.
Back to the mirror or I'm going to cry.
While I'm looking at myself, I can't help thinking of two months ago, when someone's ringed fingers crept around my waist and held me in the same spot.
Eddie Munson.
Except he called me by another name then.
I've changed it now.
Steve Harrington.
That's me.
I can hear him whispering Steve, Steve, Steve in my ear, like he's right beside me.
One more thing that only exists in my mind.
He's actually in Indianapolis, which he didn't even tell me himself, so he doesn't know about my real name.
He's been in the city for three weeks already, according to Robin, and I guess it makes sense that he never said anything, because we haven't exactly been talking or anything.
Not since he hugged me two months ago.
Robin doesn't know about that, so she also doesn't know why I left her house early after she told me that he was gone.
I just couldn't stand the thought of him doing things without me.
Being with people who weren't me.
Kissing people who aren't me?
I don't know.
It hurts extra because I can't remember the last time that I heard his voice.
So I'm creating whispers of him to live with me.
It's almost better than the real thing, because my Eddie doesn't bring all the feelings with him.
He's just here, between my ears, all day if I want.
But tonight, he's going to be in front of me too, new from the city and probably glowing a whole lot.
He got home two hours ago, phoned Robin, and now the gang is having dinner together.
I don't know how I'm going to survive the evening, especially since Robin mentioned that Eddie has someone to introduce to us all.
When I asked her who it was, she said that she had no clue.
Robin can't really keep a secret, so I hope she's not lying to me.
And I really don't want Eddie to have some girl cozied up to him when I fucking arrive at Robin' house.
If I even get there in the first place.
I'm going to leave in fifteen minutes, if I can find something to wear, which means that I really could be leaving in an hour.
I haven't even tried to do anything with my hair yet.
I got it cut last week, shaggy and mullet-style, while my parents were still in California.
It kills me to admit it, but I had Eddie's taste in mind when I did it.
When my mother walked in the door and saw me like that for the first time, I saw her eyes dim.
My father didn't even look at me.
We haven't talked very much since then.
Robin, of course, loves the cut. I don't think that I've ever been more grateful in my life than in the moment when I showed her and she squeezed me into a hug.
She gets it.
I don't have to say things for her to understand what's going on.
She asked me what my name was again that day.
I told her Steve and she whispered it into my shoulder.
"I'll always love you, Steve."
Then she didn't make it weird.
We are exactly how we've always been with each other.
And I've found something to wear.
I'm keeping the binding on.
Baggy shirt, loose jeans.
I'll give Eddie his vest back too.
Maybe.
