On your knees // Bandom

50. HEAVEN

"Im just saying it's still relevant." Ashley repeated.
"You keep saying that, and it hasn't made me believe you anymore, at all." Jamia replied.
"Okay so, right," Ashley shifted forward on Hayleys sofa to speak, "We have fights based on words centuries, millennia, ago. Like racism. A feud that results in teenagers dying for no reason."
"Or homophobia," Hayley added, with a quick glance in Jamias direction, "and a marriage could oppose that."
"But, like, kids dying doesn't do shit. Look at whats going on in America, people don't care."
"But its still romance, If people are dying for love."
"They'd known each other for a week. She was fucking thirteen, thats not romance."
"It wasn't necessarily love, no, but it was still romance."
"They're different?" Hayley asked, amused.
"Absolutely. Romance stories don't necessarily involve love. They're also not always advisable, in fact, most of them are dangerous and ridiculous and promoting things that shouldn't be promoted, but they're still romance."
"It shouldn't be, though. It shouldn't be seen as a beautiful romance because that, quite literally, romanticises things that shouldn't be romanticised."
"Its not about whether it should be."

Jamia sighed, "Its not even about the romance, or relationship, thats just a way of telling a story about violence and the impacts it has."
"Exactly, that was my point about relevance."
"Im just saying society needs to stop looking at the relationship as something amazing."
"But by arguing that, you're contributing to the reason its studied: it starts conversations."
"Shakespeare was legit just like soap operas, he wasn't a genius, he was just the popular thing."
"Just because he was popular doesn't mean he wasn't a genius, he practically invented literature. Plus, him being popular gives us an insight into that time."
"Literature existed long before Shakespeare."
"Okay, then he revolutionised theatre and language. Its important to study him."
"But why Romeo and Juliet?"
"Too mainstream for you? You wanna be edgy?"
"Shut up."

"Kinda unrelated," Hayley got in-between them, "but the age gap is kinda dodgy, like, I wouldn't date a thirteen year old."
"I mean Gee basically is," Jamia replied.
Ashley laughed, "Isn't he your best friend?"
"Yeah, and I love him but he's immature as fuck."
"Thats not the point, though, the point is that this 'romance', or whatever you two are calling it, is celebrated whilst actually being creepy." Hayley explained.
"Heterosexual bullshit, if you ask me. Straight couples suck." Jamia rolled her eyes.
Ashley made a face, "I feel kind of offended, but not really."
"Wait what?"
"You didn't know I have a boyfriend? Im sleeping at his tonight."
"Sleeping." Hayley air quoted.
"Shut up, he's a sweetheart. He's picking me up in like an hour."

"Should I text my dad and ask him to pick me up then?" Jamia asked.
"You don't have to," Hayley shrugged. "We could watch a movie."
"Oh, I have the perfect one-"
"-Don't say Romeo and Juliet."
"-Gnomeo and Juliet!"
Ashley laughed. "You could branch out and watch West Side Story."
"Genius."

But Jamia's mind wasn't 100% on movies, and neither was Hayleys. They kept sneaking glances at each other and missing the looks back. Trying to second guess everything.

Did she like her? That question kept going round both of their heads, and the emphasis changed every-time. Jamia asked herself if she liked Hayley, or if Hayley liked her. Hayley wondered the same.

They were on a tightrope, or a precipice, stumbling closer and closer to falling and still mostly in denial about it.

What if Jamia just wanted to think of someone, anyone, other than Lindsey? What if Hayley was mistaking a need for friendship for something it wasn't?

What if? What if? What if?

~

Change always hurts, and Mikey should be used to it by now. It was like he'd been sitting in one position too long and now he'd stretched out and everything ached.

He'd had to have moved at some point, and maybe it hurt less now than it would have done later, but it felt like he'd lost the two people he cared the most about in one winter, and he hadn't yet found a replacement.

He wandered through his house and looked in at Gee's room, ransacked by Frank and Brendon. When you do move from your position, there are often still imprints on your hands and legs, from whatever surface you'd been sitting on. Gee's room was a bit like that.

It wasn't quite a scar, it wasn't permanent enough. The memories were already fading and he'd forgotten which wall their Ramones poster had hung on. It was always going to happen eventually. They would both move out at some point, and they were older so they'd go first.

It still hurt. Ached. His muscles tight in the face of adjustment. He'd get used to it.

He'd get used to Pete, too. He'd stop thinking of him with every passing song. They hadn't had a proper conversation since they broke up for the final time, and not a day had gone by when he wasn't reminded of him.

He'd never missed Gee like this before, and perhaps it was because he needed them. He needed them when he tried not to cry to angry love songs, and distracted himself watching bubblegum TV shows that he knew Gee was deeply invested in.

He wanted Gee to just hold him, and tell him everything would be okay, offer their personal advice. And then he wanted to tell them to fuck off and not mean it at all.

You can love someone so much, he thought. But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.

Who said that, in all their wisdom and loss? Who's words echoed round and around in Mikeys head as he lay on his brothers bed and stared at the spots in the ceiling where blu-tack had been torn down? His dad had got annoyed at Gee for that — said they were ruining the paint. Mikey had never really liked the paint to begin with, it was the bumpy kind, the baby boomer atrocity. He was glad Gee had done their bit to destroy it.

He hadn't even gotten a goodbye. Christmas morning their family was whole, and Christmas night it wasn't. They disappeared into the cold grey day, with a phone and a hoodie and that box under their bed that had rattled when Mikey had shaken it. He should have mentioned that he'd found it, but it felt too personal.

It wasn't like they'd gone for good, they were still alive, and that was the most important thing, right?
Right.

~

"I just don't want you to get hurt." Ryans father told him.
"What? By you, and your lack of unconditional love?"
"Its a lonely life, being hidden."
"I wouldn't have to be hidden if it wasn't for you reacting like this. This is why I didn't tell you, dad. Not because I was closeted to everyone, but because I didn't want you to hate me."
"I don't hate you. I want whats best for you. I want you to have a family, Ry."
"I can still have a family."
"Don't look at me like that, please, I don't want to hurt you."
"But you are!" Ryan exploded. "And you ask me not to look at you like that, but you look at me like- like- like im not your son anymore. Its not my fault!"

Brendon would say it isn't a fault at all, but Ryan couldn't help but to think how unfair it all was. How much easier it would be to get his fathers love and attention and support, and he could just do it naturally if he was straight. It wasn't his fucking fault he liked guys.

"Its not fair." He mumbled. "I'm not doing anything wrong."
"You're acting on your homosexuality. Like the priest said, its not your fault you think them, but you have to be strong enough to resist."
"Do you resist? Do you look at the people you're attracted to and tell yourself you're an abomination."
"You're not an abomination."
"Then stop treating me like one."

Stop being afraid to touch me, comfort me. Stop walking on glass around me, stop telling me to try, because I am trying, more than you know. This isn't my choice, and that makes it terrifying because I don't know what I'd chose if it were. I don't want to be the sort of person who'd choose the easy option.

"I won't be lonely, dad. I'll be less lonely than most people, I'll have a community, a found family. I'll have people who love and support me, and I want you to be one of them."
"Ryan, I-"
"-but if you're not. Then I get it. But don't tell me you love me if you don't."

He didn't mean any of his words; he wanted to be reassured that he'd be cared for no matter what, even if it wasn't true.

"I love you. But I won't necessarily support you."

The worst part was Ryan knew he meant it.