If You Were Gay

Chapter One- Rod

Broadway Hits of the 1940s. No Nicky. I mean, reading is great and all, even with the overbearing weight of silence. But... I missed him. 

A month ago, we were hanging out with the friend group. It was a chilling day, and I had already been ticked off. They were joking about me being gay. Something slipped and Nicky, without even realizing it, outed me. When asked about it, I lied and said I had a girlfriend who lived in Canada. 

As you probably guessed, they did not believe me. And I... I kicked Nicky out of the apartment. I feel really guilty, and every day it's a new challenge. I'm always... tired. The bed we always shared was somehow smaller. I didn't understand. If I was so angry at him, and said I never wanted to see him again, then why am I missing him so much?

I hated not understanding emotions, especially when they're about Nicky. 

I set my book down. Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to the Bronx. I got on my sweater and scarf, the ones that Nicky always said made me look like Sherlock Holmes. I started crying. 

I missed him. So so badly. 

"Oh, hello Rod! How are you?" Christmas Eve smiled, her voice twanging with her Asian accent. I smiled weakly. "I'm..." Trying to decide how to describe how I felt, I made a dying noise. Then, I sobbed. For nearly half an hour. During that time, Christmas Eve had managed to get me inside her apartment, get me onto a couch, make hot cocoa and basically fold all of Avenue Q's laundry. 

Once I finished sobbing my eyes out like someone being g-noted, then Northern Downpoured, was told that Please, Friend was writen about Josh Dun, and gotten dumped via text, and best friend had gone out with crush. 

What am I?!

Someone undeserving of someone like Nicky. That's what I am.

Christmas Eve looked at me concernedly. "What's wrong?" "I miss Nicky."