B r u s h S t r o k e s || Frerard

Chapter 54 - Good Day Bad

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Mikey saw Frank jaunt off with his mother. Smiling like Mikey would never be able to. He certainly missed his mother more than he had ever anticipated when he came to live with Gerard. But that was not the only thing enforcing his emotionally unstable aura, causing him to wallow indefinitely in a pit of self pity and upset.

The fact he was different. That made him aggravated.

He was mad at himself for not being like all the others. Not now, and not when he was a kid neither. He always wore dresses and skirts; loved how the loose ones swished and the tight ones clung to his stature. Loved how they made him feel like himself. Himself, troublingly though, was the very thing he wanted to get away from. He hated himself. Why did he dress the way he did? After all this time, still, a question that remained unanswered. Mikey had seen so many therapists and fucking doctors about it too! (As if they could cure anything! Doctors always start off with a desire to do well, but after a while, like any other 'thing', when you have too much of it, you grow tired of what you once treasured and get bored. Boredom then leads to carelessness. They don't care about you) They all talked out of their arses more often than not.
"It's most likely just a phase. You needed worry" They had praised. Mikey was about 10 when he first went to see a therapist. That's where he actually learnt that there were such marvels as being transgender, transsexual or being a transvestite. Although this new found information gave Mikey a reason to believe his 'habits' were normal, he knew deep down that he would never really be accepted; by anyone.

Mikey was not transgender. He did not want to be a woman. However much he admired their breasts and their curves, their hips and their dips- he was Mikey the man.
But a gay man. Mikey, though did actually prefer the term queer. It seemed like a general umbrella term for everything away from the norm without declaring a direct label to what you are and what you are not.

Sadly, as a child, you can most likely imagine, Mikey wasn't all that embraced by schools when he spun into his lessons in a white skort and glittery fusia lipgloss smothered across his thin lips. He'd come in singing show tunes that his older brother would sing to him at night and he would dance the dances he'd seen on TV with his Grandmother. He had to switch schools so many times due to bullying and name calling... It was a shame -and a lot of hassle for his parents.

"You always cause a fucking hassle Michael!" His father would taunt, throwing up his hands in the air and rolling his eyes.

"Always a hassle, ha!" Mikey laughed, not to himself- only at himself. He honestly was a joke. A stupid joke. A dead beat. A dead beat transvestite that should probably just give up already! So many years spent hopelessly trying to accept himself- He should have known that he could never be happy...

"Fuck this..." Mikey relished momentously; deciding he'd no longer attempt to withhold from everyone else, the knowledge that one day he would indeed fall back into old habits.

That moment was now.

"One last time" What once was perceived as dying embers would relight for the great big finish, before Mikey packed all of that shit in for good.

A proper good hit- purely for survival purpose, so he could start his drug deprivation in peace.

Scooting round the shop, utterly high on the idea of being high, Mikey left with a lifted bag of gourmet fucking dog food and no self respect. It got to the unbearable point where Mikey had taken off his heels and was now running back to the flat, shoes in one hand; a sack of dog food in the other. Just able to manage the load, Mikes waddled to open the apartment door and stammered in.