Diary of a Mindless GUY

Chapitre Deux | "Johnny Are You Queer?"

C H A P T E R  T W O

 “Be my number one girl...” I sung to myself doing laundry. What about the fellas, though? I often wondered. I only heard the boys shout-out their male fans once  — on their first album. Even though I heard their songs being about girls 99.9% of the time, I still remained a fan. “Cameron, are you still singin’ those Mindless Behavior songs?” My father’s voice boomed out of the living room. “N-n-no,” I stammered, quickly changing the song on my iPod. It was Trap Back Jumpin’ by T.I. Something I knew my father would approve of. “Then what are you singing? I know that don’t sound like no Lil’ Wayne.” My father grabbed my iPod and looked at what I was listening to. He snatched it so hard that it changed to the next song, Band-Aid by Mindless Behavior.

 “Wh-wha? What did I tell you about listening to this gay stuff? As much as I’d like to inform you, you are a boy. Not a girl.” My dad grabbed my iPod and began deleted every Mindless Behavior song I had on there. “WHAT? NO!” I exclaimed at the top of my lungs. I tried grabbing it back, but it was no use. “Dad! Stop!” I begged, but no avail. “I’m going to put an end to all this gay business. I’m going to have a straight boy and that’s final. God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” I hated that analogy with a passion. God loves all his children! To make it even worse, I’m not even gay!

 When all my songs were deleted, I looked at Dad with a blank stare. “I hate you. Remember that. You’re the worst dad ever, don’t talk to me anymore.” I grabbed my iPod and walked upstairs. I could see some hurt in my dad’s eye, but I tried my best to ignore it. He really was the worst. As a parent, you have to be accepting and supportive of your children. My dad failed at that, epically.

 “Cameron, baby, what’s going on?” My mom inquired in a very confused tone. “It’s dad! I don’t know what made you want to marry a bigot like that, but if you’re staying with him just for the kids, feel free to live ‘em!” I ran upstairs in a huff, with a immature pout on my face. I grabbed my land-line phone and proceeded to call Veveeyn. She’s the only one that obviously understands me.

 “Hello?” Veveeyn answered cheerfully. She sounded a whole like happier than I did. “Hey Veveeyn.” I replied melancholy. “What’s wrong with you? You don’t sound like Cameron happy-boy!” She said in her same, elated tone. “It’s just my dad...” I could almost hear Veveeyn’s whole demeanor change. “Oh, that bigoted sucka’? Why do you even fool with him anymore? He’s not much of a dad, anyway,” Veveeyn said in a wise-guy-like way. “I don’t know, he’s a good dad when he feels like it. I guess he just doesn’t want a ‘gay’ son.” I put air-quotes over ‘gay’ even though Veveeyn couldn’t see me.

 "OK, Cameron. I just have a question for you. You can answer truly, I won’t judge.” I already knew where Veveeyn was getting at. She was going to ask me if I was gay, which kind of hurt. She thought I was gay, too? Did everyone?

 “No, Veveeyn. I’m not gay,” I replied before she could even answer. It was an awkward silence, and then Veveeyn ironically exclaimed, “Gay baby!” It was our little inside joke. Every time an awkward silence happened, we came to a conclusion that a gay baby was just born. It was insulting but funny at the same time. I chuckled, “You’re crazy Vev. Anyways, I hear my dad coming upstairs. I’ll call you back at about nine.” I hung up the phone without hearing Veveeyn’s reply.

 “Cameron, who are you talking to? I swear to God...” My dad banged on my door. I wouldn’t let him in no matter how much of a fool he acted. He wasn’t about to get in my room. “Open this door! I ain’t playin’, neither.” I cradled in a fetal position and pretended like I was asleep. It worked every time. Before I knew it, Dad had managed to get his way in. I didn’t open my eyes, though. “I know you’re awake, Cameron. I can see you blinking. You ain’t slick.” My dad’s voice wasn’t as serious as it was last time. I opened one eye slowly and carefully.

 “Now, Son. I know that I sounded like a real jerk downstairs, but just hear me out, alright?” Dad said attritional. Even if he was sorry, I didn’t wanna hear it. My dad was a bigot and he knew it. “You’re my first son. I just don’t know how to deal with you doing things that are rather... feminine.” I rolled my eyes. “No music artist is just for girls or boys. Things can cross, you know.” I sounded like a smart-ass.

 “A boy-band is targeted to girls.” My father’s voice began to rise. “So are girl-bands targeted for boys? ..Oh.” I know I was sounded like a real smart-alec, but I was enjoying it. My dad was wrong, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Cameron, don’t play with me right now. You know what I’m saying. Hint hint, the song is called #1 Girl, not #1 Boy.” Now my dad was sounding even more like a hater than he already was. He was real close to me hating him, with a passion.

 If he hadn’t already got to that point.