No Matter What (Synacky)

Chapter Thirty-One: Zacky

(Author's Note): I just wanted to quickly inform you guys that I will be changing the title of this fanfiction. For a while now I haven't really liked the whole idea of using a song title for it. So don't be surprised or confused when the title and cover art is different!

-mental_deathbat

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Brian stood behind me, holding my shoulders as we faced the mirror. After the bath, we had gotten dressed, but he stopped me before I collected my shirt. He gently gripped my shoulders, turning me to the mirror to look at myself. Then, he pulled me closer to him, so that my back was against his chest, and kissed my cheek.

His lips slowly trailed from my cheek to my ear.

"Why don't you like what you see?" He whispered.

I didn't respond, just frowned at myself. Brian leaned away. Releasing my shoulders, he reached up towards my face. With his fingertips, he outlined my lips. Then, he rested them at the corners of my mouth and pushed them upwards, literally 'turning my frown upside down'. Cheesy, I know.

I forced out a small chuckle, "Stop it, Brian."

He let out a laugh, then quickly became serious.

"But really, Zack." His hands trailed down from my lips, slowly sliding over my chin, and down my neck.

Then, his fingertips gently glided over my collarbones, sending shivers through my skin.

"You don't like this?" He asked quietly, still exploring my chest with his fingers.

"No." I mumbled, turning my head to face the floor.

Brian's hands strayed away from my body, and he gripped my jaw. Tilting my head upwards, he forced me to look at myself.

Through the mirror, I glanced at Brian, who was still behind me. The look in his eyes pained me. They were full of sorrow, maybe mixed with some sympathy.

"You're beautiful."

"No, I'm not." I closed my eyes, doing my best so that I didn't have to look at myself anymore.

"Zee, open your eyes." Brian whispered, almost pleading.

I refused, "No."

"Zacky."

I opened my eyes, feeling the tears stinging at them almost immediately. Biting my lip, I finally looked at my own pitiful reflection. I hated everything that I saw. All I was-

"Who ever told you otherwise?" Brian asked, furrowing his brows as he interrupted me from my thoughts.

Confused, I raised an eyebrow, trying to blink the tears away, "What?"

"Who ever told you that you aren't beautiful?"

I gave Brian a small shrug, finally allowing a tear to slide down my cheek.

"Tell me."

I sighed, "Brian, you already know that I grew up in a shitty home. It wasn't always like that, though. I used to be respected and loved. And then I opened up to my parents about being gay and suddenly I was hated. I should've known it would've ended this way..." I trailed off for a moment, "They made me feel terrible about myself. You know, beating me, insulting me."

Brian stayed silent.

"To them, I wasn't Zack anymore. I was gay, faggot, homo, cocksucker-"

"Stop." Brian said, releasing my jaw.

In the mirror, I thought I saw his own eyes beginning to well with tears. He gently took my wrist, turning me to face him.

He bit his lower lip, then rested his head on my shoulder.

"It's not true though, Zacky." His voice cracked, and I knew he was most likely crying.

"Maybe it is. But I mean, it wasn't just that. They'd call me ugly and make me hate myself and-"

"Please, Zacky, stop." Brian interrupted, "I don't want to hear about the shit they did."

I sighed, "You learn to live with it." I confessed.

You also learned to hate yourself for it, though. The things they say to you begin to become true. They get lodged into your mind and you believe it.

"But it shouldn't be that way." Brian whispered, "It's not true Zacky. You gotta believe me, just like you believed them. Except this time, it's the truth rather than lies.

The older boy leaned away, and I saw that I was right. He had been crying.

He cupped my cheeks then, leaning forward and kissing my lips.

"Whatever they said to you wasn't true. And you have to realize that before it tears you apart." He said, once he had stepped back.

I nodded, pretending I believed him. Though, in reality, it already had torn me apart.