It's Understandable: A Tronnor AU

1. Remedial

Connor was a boy with a dependency on his surface. The way he contorted his features and held his body were means of survival, because you'd be surprised how quickly he'd be ripped apart if he let the act drop. He was already put down constantly because, though a forcefully raised chin does wonders for solidifying lies, he could never fully filter out his true personality. He was the shy, quiet one of the infamous populars; a sweetheart amidst cocky, shallow savages. Always pushed a step out of the circle, Connor was an easy target, seemingly unhurt by all the bullets shot in his direction by his so-called friends. But that was the main purpose of the act: to avoid conflict. Take this morning for example: he could compare it to a baseball game, in which he was beaten to a pulp.

Strike one. Kian had asked the guys to stay overnight at his place for a Super Bowl party. "Don't invite Connor," JC whispered, loud enough for Connor to hear, "I don't want to sleep in the same room as a gay." Kian laughed and they smirked in Connor's direction, intending for him to hear. Connor just pretended he didn't, staring at his unopened lock screen to make it seem like he wasn't wishing he could shrink back into the closet.

Strike two. "I saw you walking yesterday." Oli mentioned randomly. "Was that your house you went into?" Connor smiled and nodded. He felt like the day would get better from there; nobody ever asked him questions like that, because they were always too preoccupied talking about themselves. He thought that maybe Oli actually cared about the little things, like a friend should. However, Oli just snorted with laughter, "Man, I knew you were poor, but not that poor. Your place is shit!" Connor tried to emit a complaining laugh, as if he wasn't eternally grateful for everything his mom has struggled to provide him with since his dad left.

Strike three. He was at the vending machine with Bethany, who had nearly seventy dollars of cash in her wallet. "I would buy you something..." She shrugged, knowing Connor forgot his lunch, "...but it's all junk food, and I see you still haven't lost all your 'fat kid' weight yet." She smiled as if she was proud of herself, trying to perfect her imperfect friend. Connor wasn't overweight anymore, but was still insecure about his body, and the fat jokes commonly thrown at him were the absolute worst. He laughed like he was holding a textbook over his torso by instinct alone. Like he hadn't been skipping meals for months.

Each ball that was pitched at him hit his body, never the bat. He had no comebacks, because his life didn't work that way. He didn't fight with people, didn't let them know how they bruised him, so he had a place to sit at lunch. But more than three strikes within an hour was a bit much, and he wanted out.

"I don't feel well, I'm going to go to the nurse's office." He said, breaking off from Bethany and Caspar as they walked towards the math wing.

"Maybe some stomach sickness will make you lose a little weight! It takes some work to get like me." Caspar joked, patting his lean, muscular stomach.

"Yeah, that's what I said!" Beth added, "I don't get it...I thought you poor people were always super skinny."

"It's probably 'cause he's gay." Caspar chuckled, "I heard they have slower metabolisms."

It was like watching the televised version of his defeat, but what else was new? Connor laughed but, on the inside, he cried to break his heart. He'd do that for real when he was alone, like every night. His life was a bucket of misery, overflowing with emotion from how he was pinched and bullied. He didn't go to the nurses office, but to the bathroom, hiding in a stall until he was completely alone.

Sticking two fingers down his throat, he vomited with hopes of a superficial perfection. He wanted them to have some sympathy, to accept him for who he was. But that was a hilarious dream, so he just worked towards making his surface desirable. He threw up to make them stop calling him fat; he rejected his crushes to make them stop calling him a fag; he wore long sleeves so they didn't talk about him like they did about the other suicidal kids in their grade. Yeah, he was self-destructive; he wanted them to love him, or he'd die. He wanted everybody to love him, because loneliness was his biggest fear. He couldn't escape, and that was the hardest part.