Believe Me

Chapter 1 - Kick Me

"Transsexual!"

"Make-up is for fags!"

"Go cut yourself, emo faggot!"

Another day, same fucking insults. Don't these assholes have anything better to throw at me?

They let out a sigh as they walked past the group of popular boys. 15-year-old Ronnie was pretty used to this treatment by now; they got screamed at every day by people who had nothing better to do but attempt to make people miserable. Those idiots were so so ignorant. Couldn't they grasp the concept of 'not everyone was supposed to be identical'? It was like they had a list of things people should be and whoever didn't fit perfectly had to be eliminated.

That was probably why they had targeted Ronnie. Most girls were feminine and showed off their perfection with jewellery and flattering girly clothes. Ronnie was the total opposite. They didn't like being girly. To be quite honest, they hated being biologically a girl. They'd have gladly taken testosterone supplements if they were allowed. They preferred a look that looked both masculine and feminine, that belonged solely to neither gender stereotype.

So therefore they dressed like teenage Andy Sixx.

To most, that would seem like opening yourself up to bullying, but Ronnie felt more comfortable in those clothes than what they were expected to wear. Right now they were dressed in a Misfit's t-shirt, tight black skinny jeans with rips in the knees, black combat boots, and a leather belt with 'RR' spelled out in metal studs on the material. The perfect visual of a rocker kid.

They would've been considered attractive if they didn't dress the way they did, and if they hadn't dyed their hair or got piercings or wore a lot of eyeliner. Piercing grey-blue eyes? Check. Angular face with well-developed lips? Check. Nice curves? Toned and sexy body? Tall? Check, check, check. However, their eyes were lined with thick black liner. They wore tight black clothing. Their hair was heavy over their right eye, layered and slightly shorter than shoulder length, dyed jet black. They had a nose piercing and one black ring on the left side of their lip. They looked pretty cute, regardless, if you liked the emo-rocker style.

Apparently self-expression was now considered a sin.

"SEAGULLS!"

Ronnie snapped out of their deep thoughts to see their friend racing towards them, skidding to a halt at the last second. He knew better than to touch them randomly. That never ended well.

"Vic," they huffed in a monotonous voice, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'why the fuck were you yelling'. By the look on his face, they knew something was up.

Vic was often picked on too, but unlike Ronnie, he wasn't as apathetic. He was sensitive and childish and soft. In Tumblr terms, he'd be called a 'smol cinnamon roll, too pure for this world.' It wasn't unusual for him to get emotional and hide behind Ronnie as they defended him. It wasn't like he always acted like a pussy though. He often got himself into trouble by not thinking things through. And, like a 7-year-old kid, he was stubborn as hell when the mood hit him.

His dress style was much more colourful and less scary than his friend's usual attire. He wore black skinnies as well, but he was wearing a Pikachu hoodie with actual yellow ears on the hood. He was such a Pokémon fanboy. His fringe swept across his forehead, hairsprayed in place and carefully under-combed to give it more volume. His skinny body was shorter than Ronnie's; his facial features were more emotive, his emerald eyes often sparkling with happiness, and sometimes dark with depression. The latter was never fun to deal with.

He opened his mouth to say something when other people bounded towards the duo.

"Whoa, dude, what happened? You were speaking gibberish, holding a note and looking like you were going to cry,"

"The only thing I got from that was that you needed to find Han - Ronnie, I mean,"

Ronnie nearly flinched at the near-mention of their birth name. They despised it with a passion, and associated it with years of misgendering, abuse and agony. They didn't want anything to do with it. They knew that even their friends were bound to slip up sometimes, though, and didn't mention it, although, they did narrow their steely eyes and make a 'tch' noise.

The first speaker was Finny. He looked and dress a bit like 2011 Ashley Purdy, if they were being honest. His golden-amber eyes were full of concern for Vic. Good thing he wasn't as flirty. The second person to approach was Jamie. She was a male-to-female transgender, but they were so delicate and sweet, the embodiment of femininity. It was hard to believe that she actually had a dick.

"He found me," they said, their tone bored. "Now, what about this note?"

Vic's eyes began to water with suppressed tears. "T-this," he whimpered, pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket and handing it Ronnie reluctantly.

Their canine-like teeth nipped at their bottom lip as they unfolded the paper. Written in bubbled writing was two words.

Kick me.

"I know th-that it's a s-stupid thing to b-b-be upset about, b-but someone t-taped it to my ba-back and e-everyone was laughing a-at m-me," stammered Vic, his voice cracking in places from fighting back tears. Ronnie suddenly got the feeling that this wasn't the only thing that was making him upset.

"Vic. What else did they do?"

Vic winced from their hard tone, laced with bitter venom. As he answered, he attempted to steady his voice, but it shook too badly for him to control.

"Th-th-they g-gave me thi-this a-and..." he choked out, reaching out his hand. Something was clasped in his fist, and Ronnie reached out to receive it. As the object was revealed, Jamie had tears in her eyes, and Finny looked angry.

Those bastards had given him a razor-blade.