Pretty in Punk [ Peterick Crossdressing ]

[ Struggling ]

Pete:

Tomorrow is only a switch off of the light away, I repeat to myself when I lie in my bed. It is not often my words rest enough to paint a dream.

Today was overwhelming, but tomorrow is where my world changes. Mikey approves, and his brother would too - as Mikey told me about Gerard - but it is not the time to come out to the public. And there is no chance in hell I will casually stroll out of my room and into the living room wearing a short skirt with leather boots and bloody lipstick and fake, polished nails and a pierced ear and dark shades while my mother stares with her jaw sat on the floor and her curlers rolling out of her receding hair because damn, her boy is dressed up like a celebrity on her way to a requested date, courtesy of the media.

Now all this worry is banging around in my head, with my skull as the shaken bars of the prison that is my mind, thoughts struggling to break free of the past. Tonight is going to be long, but let the thoughts roam and mind fill - as my eyes will serve as doors to lock out the noises that break concentration. I set my mind free for the next six hours, until doors are broken down by sleep.

Mikey:

Dear Diary,

I had suspected something was up with Pete. Like he kept stuttering and struggling to finish sentences when he spoke to me. He kept telling me about personal stuff like his relationship status and how he wasn't very satisfied with himself. I was slow to find out, I guess. I didn't even get to ask Pete if he was doing good in general, so I guess that's pretty rude of a thing since we are like best friends.

When Pete told me he wears high heels and womens clothes and makeup, I didnt think about gender roles or even "that's so feminine, Pete" because I know Pete and I know what he is like and who he is and his outside can change as much as he wants to change it, but as long as Pete is Pete, he is okay to me.

Like, he can be a walrus with a mohawk and buck-teeth instead of tusks and a bunch of scarves on his flipping flipper wrists and I would be like "oh hey Pete my best friend the walrus. Let's hang out!" And we would.

Oh! And to people who don't agree with someone changing their look because what they look like isn't "likely for a girl" or is "not manly": you are making a horrendous assumption about that someone and you should probably contact some fucking professional scientists or something to invent xray glasses for you if you are that fucking dependent on the exterior of a person that you can't make the time to meet them and get to know what makes them up!

Whoa....!! I'm sorry I got a little angry and defensive (towards Pete and Gerard) It's just that they're really close to me and I cannot stand to see either of them hurt and I feel like I'm their bodyguard or their superhero to protect them both from the meanies

"Mikey!" Oh, there's my brother.

"I'm in my room, Gee!" I yell back. There's stomping up the stairs and Gerard stands there with hands on his hips.

"Yes, Gerard?" I'm scared he's going to ask about Pete and why I went to his house instead of home. Pete never said I could tell anyone else, but he didn't seem too possessive of his secret.

"Mikey, mom isn't coming today again." Gerard says with an uneven voice. I feel saddened by his watery eyes.

"Oh. Okay." I feel so bad for us, but only for us in the entire family.

Mom is an alcoholic, but she is always someone else's problem, luckily. Her husband fled years ago, when I was seven and Gerard was ten. Gerard doesn't deserve anything less than two loving parents who are also in real love with each other, a beautiful home with his own humongous, geeky room, three delicious and healthy meals served to him every single day plus treats and snacks, and a hot shower that lasts as long as a playlist of his favorite songs, everyday. My brother deserves so much more than this dump of a life at home.

"So... What kind of pizza do you want?" Gerard asks with a break in his voice.

"Cheese is fine, Gerard. Thank you."

"Okay... I'm gonna go order it." I nod my head.

After the order is placed, I ask Gerard if I can watch Futurama with him. He wipes a tear away from his chin and nods. I kiss him on the cheek and smile at him as wide as I can, which isn't far because Gerard is crying and it's not for attention.

I tell him that I love him and hug him big, letting him lie his head down and nap until the pizza arrives, which wasn't even twenty minutes after.

We ate a little bit because we both lose our appetite when upset, so lunch and dinner is covered for tomorrow. Or maybe even breakfast and lunch, because that's what we used to always do - eat cold pizza for breakfast, even if we had to set an alarm the night before and wake up an hour earlier the next day just to sneak one slice and split it. And here is when I realized I miss everything about our younger selves.

"Mikey, you're crying; I'm so sorry this is what you get. I'm so sorry everything sucks, but please don't cry. I'm sad when you cry and then I get mad and frustrated and we both have an even shittier day. Just sleep; it'll cover your eyes from all this."

"Goodnight, Gerard. I love you." I didn't meant to whisper, but that's how my voice came out.