.:22:.

1.7K 115 35
                                    

Only a couple of chapters left, which is good bc I'm sick of this story and I don't want to write it anymore lmao
_____________

I came into school with a feeling of hopelessness weighing down on my shoulders. It was quite consuming and I retreated back to my previous ways of trudging through the corridors with my head as low as my mood.

This was the first day I had actually walked into school by myself in a long time. Vic would usually take me, but he probably assumed that I would not be going in so early and just didn't come. Or maybe he did not want to pick me up anymore at all.

Jenna, one of Vic's friends who had taken a liking to me, was first to approach me and question my absence. I liked Jenna: she was kind, she helped out with our charity event. The problem was the fact that I was not really part of her crowd. I was not part of anyone's crowd, actually. It was as if I, a single person, could form my own crowd and make up for all of the people I was missing.

I handed over the guitar which the singer of Green Day had given me at the concert. When I texted Jenna about it, she was so shocked she said she would not believe me unless I had actual physical evidence, so I decided to just bring the object into school. I handled it delicately, as that guitar meant a lot more to me than I let on. At first it was just an instrument which I could not play, but soon it became a sort of happy talisman. It was a reminder that good things happened to people even like me: who were poor, who were trans, who really had nothing going for them. The guitar, as meaningless as it seemed to most, was more than just a souvenir given to me by my idol. It was symbolic and special, and I loved it.

Jenna gazed at the instrument in awe.

"Wow, look at that white outline around the edges and- oh my god, it has his initials on the back! 'BJA'!" She was so excited by it that she almost dropped the object and I found myself instinctively leaping forward, prepared to catch it. A prominent idea formed in my head: as I viewed the guitar as a sort of reminder of joy in my existence, if anything were to happen to it then it would be a metaphor for life just not working out. I would try my hardest to keep the guitar intact and, as long as I did so, there would still be some hope for me.

When Jenna was done admiring it (and showing basically every single one of her friends who walked past), I had no idea what to do with it. "Where should I keep it during the school day? There's not enough space in my locker."

"Just put it in one of the music rooms, it should be fine. Everyone leaves their instruments there." I nodded at the suggestion and was off in the right direction. It felt like I was back at square one with every hallway feeling like a cruel descent into nothingness, and every door feeling like a trap which I had just triggered. The only hope I had left was the guitar in my hands and the faintest of ideas that Vic and I could make up.

Couples fought a lot and, although we were not officially together, it felt like we were doing the same. They would always sort it out in the end though. I did not particularly enjoy talking about my feelings, in fear of being viewed as weak, but this was an exception. I was angry with Vic but talking it out and explaining our motives could probably help.

Today after school, I vowed to myself to start looking for a new job. My mum had seemingly taken the news well, but I was not fully convinced. When I told her that I had lost my job, she gave me something between a forced smile and a grimace, with a barely reassuring, "It's okay, you'll find a new one," but I could tell that she was just as disappointed in me as I was. She worked so hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on our plates, yet I was careless enough to lose one of our desperate sources of income. Well, there goes any chance of me ever starting HRT.

One More Night With You [BoyXBoy]Where stories live. Discover now