100% Straight

Part 1 (Jackson)

It's not Jackson's fault, really. Nobody is born hating gay people.

Jackson's home wasnt very friendly. Some might call it broken, but Jackson preferred "passive aggressive". Quiet resistance here and there, every member more stubborn than the last. Everyone had to be right.

Jackson was no exception. You could pull up google, a government website, official research, but if Jackson said the sky was green, it sure as hell was.

Even with the underlying aggressiveness in every action, there was one thing the entire Williams household agreed on; that being gay was the worst thing on earth.

From a young age, Jackson had been told this. It had echoed into every conversation, every mistake.

Jackson can't count how many times his father had heard his father say that. Not that he hadn't said it at all. With an entire family vocal on their hatred of the LGBTQ+ community, it was hard not to join in.

Not that Jackson tried very hard. In actuality, the reason Jackson was even in this situation in the first place was because of this very fact.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot tolerate that type of behavior in the workplace. We have to let you go." The words rang hollow in his head. His bosses voice echoed in his brain through the telephone.

He was sitting on his couch wearing what he always wore to work; suit and tie. It wasnt comfy and dug in at all the wrong places but at this exact moment, that's what he needed. Something else to focus on besides the fact that he had just been fired from his first job. His life was over.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." Jackson muttered, angling the phone away from his face.

Another problem that also ran in the Williams family was anger issues. When he felt angry or sad, he tended to get very agitated, very quickly.

"What the fuck? I said one thing and I get fired?" Jackson yelled into the phone. He wasn't going to lose this job without a fight. Screw this job. He didn't want it anyway, "He's called me worse!"

For a second, all Jackson could hear was the quietness of his surroundings contrasting with his loud voice. The silence grated onto him, only making him more angry.

He heard a long sigh from the other end of the line. Jackson could tell that his boss was already tired of him. It didn't bother him. She didn't have to see him anymore because apparently he was fucking fired.

"Jackson," his boss said his name like this conversation took all her energy, "I'm sorry, but due to our policy-"

"Fuck the policy! Where's my two weeks notice? Don't you at least owe me that?" He stood up abruptly and kicked his coffee table. A cup of coffee from this morning fell over, light brown liquid dripping all over his new white rug. He'd regret doing that later, for now he didn't give a shit.

"Listen." Another deep sigh, "you're fired, okay? You're a smart kid, I'm sure you can find a good job somewhere else, especially with your resume."

Jackson was still angry. This feeble attempt at calming him down was in vain.

"Fuck you." Jackson hung up and threw the phone down on the floor with a bang.

It's probably broken and it'll cost him a grand or so, but at this point, he's so far from caring.
Which is how he found himself on a Monday morning, drunk, searching for a new job online.

It's not his fault that the job that called him back was about to change him forever. Good or worse, now that's a question.