Stanley Uris, a boy with three secrets hidden beneath a thick sweater - one of them being his love for his best friend.
Bill Denbrough, a boy who spends every morning trying to convince himself he's not gay.
This is their tale, told through both of...
"Wanting to be someone else is a waste of who you are." ~ Kurt Cobain
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Some people spend hours in the morning fixing their hair or choosing an outfit. Some sleep late and rush out the door. Some spend way too long singing in the shower.
Bill Denbrough, unlike most, stood in front of the mirror and told himself over and over again, I'm not gay.
Every morning, he gave his hair a quick brush and pulled on his clothes and then walked to the bathroom and stared at the mirror, looking at his reflection, trying to convince himself that the brown-haired boy peering back at him was not gay.
He sometimes woke before the sun just so he could have hours to convince himself.
By the time he left for school on Silver, he felt cleansed of his doubts and worries. He had convinced himself, though in place of the tiny voice feeding him these lies, was a hard lump taking over his stomach and throat. Breathing and speaking became difficult. The same feelings from Georgie's death came flooding back, and he felt powerless against them. He was suffocating, and he couldn't tell anyone. It was locked inside of him, hurting him a little more each day.
The third day of school, he found himself whispering to himself as he pedalled to school, "I'm n-not gay, I-I'm not g-gay, I'm n-not g-gay," until he felt better. A few moments later, a wave of illness choked him and he nearly tumbled from his bike.
Bill caught his balance and took a minute to catch his breath. I'm. Not. Gay, he challenged the persistent inner voice that dominated the lump inside of him. The voice finally receded and the lump grew.
He longed to see the mirror just so could know if it was really him staring back.
•
"Hey, B-B-Bill," Richie greeted him as he entered school.
"H-Hey, Tr-Trashmouth," Bill responded, his stutter especially bad on days when he couldn't quite vanquish the voice, and even if he could, felt the lump rise inside of him.
He exchanged hellos with Eddie and Ben, noticing Stan and Bev hadn't yet arrived. Bev. Bev was not a way to hide he was gay - he wasn't gay! And he liked her. She was...pretty? Yeah, pretty. That was the right word.
Stan suddenly rounded the corner, his curls bouncing gently, a small smile on his lips. Bill didn't stop to ponder over the shadows in his brown eyes and instead turned to see Bev coming, giving everyone a nod and a greeting.
And then the kiss for Bill. There was always a kiss.
"Hi, Bill," his girlfriend whispered.
"H-hi," he replied, bracing himself as their lips collided. Yeah, collided. A most unpleasant feeling. If only he could be kissing—
Stop! You're not gay!
Yeah. Bill Denbrough was not gay.
So he kissed her back, a pain in his heart.
If only he could cure that pain. If only he could accept who he was and look in the mirror happy to see his reflection, able to recognize the boy looking back. If only he would believe the little voice that told him the truth—
