tyrus oneshots

#15: Inhibitions

Hey dad, hey Sharon, I'm gay.

Hey, what's up guys, I don't like girls!

Hey, you know those grandkids you're looking forward to in future? Yeah, they may be logistically impossible. Sorry.

Hey, you know Ellen? The TV show host? Yeah, the gay one. Anyway - just thought I'd let you know that her and I share a trait and that's not liking the opposite gender.

Cyrus let out a heavy sigh, blowing some of his hair up in the process. He placed his hands down on his desk, feeling butterflies begin to swarm his stomach at the prospect of what he was planning. His heart was soaring, and his clammy hands were shaking, and was the room supposed to be spinning like this?

Maybe he wasn't as ready as he thought it was. Or, maybe, coming out would always be a nerve-wracking process no matter how long he waited.

He'd spent a countless amount of late nights staring up at his plain white ceiling, with nothing but deafening silence to give him company as his mind raced with a million different scenarios.

Each option was becoming more and more convoluted, to the point where he wasn't sure if his parents wouldn't even recognise he was trying to come out to them. He supposed it was his mind's way of escaping, of recoiling from the prospect of coming out.

Cyrus was hyper-aware of the media his parents consumed, in hope it would shed some light on their view of people like him. All he'd gotten so far were tiny inclinations, tiny indicators that maybe this wouldn't go terribly.

He let out the breath he'd been holding, turning his attention to the window. Through it, he could see the last remnants of light fading, with light wispy clouds drifting peacefully across the darkening sky. His body felt stiff now with nerves as his grip on the desk tightened. Distantly, he could feel the cool wood pressing up against his skin, turning his fingers white with the pressure after a few moments, but it somehow provided him with a tiny sense of relief.

The swings weren't an option. Not anymore. So here he was instead, left with a ball of anxiousness that had initially settled in the pit of his stomach, but seemed to be clawing its way up to the surface now.

Why was this so anxiety-inducing?

He'd crossed a major hurdle in allowing himself to utter the words 'I'm gay,' which held weight in comparison to simply admitting that he was crushing on a guy. Those words had kept him awake at one time, but now they brought him relief. He'd felt light as air after saying them aloud, solidifying them, and it was that moment he was sure as ever they were true.

It wasn't an 'I don't like I girls as much as originally intended,' or an 'oh god that boy is kind of cute,' it was a 'no - this is me.' This is who I am. This is the part of me that shouldn't matter as much as it apparently does, but here he was regardless, having a full-blown freak out over telling his dad and step-mom. He'd always prided himself on maintaining some form of rationality when it came to others, but that didn't apply to himself nearly as much as he wanted it to.

When the silence became too much, Cyrus began flicking through his phone desperately in search of some music to fill it, hands still trembling as he did so. A warm night-light, in the shape of a dinosaur, lit the back corner of his room. Apart from that, he was enveloped by darkness as stars began to speckle the night sky, accompanied now by a clear view of the moon.

He turned up the music, not focusing so much on the lyrics as he was on his own thoughts. Hearing another voice, despite it practically becoming white noise, alleviated some of the ever-present loneliness that was pressing down on his chest.