Vikkstar123 (Vikklan)- Make Up

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Song is Make Up by The Script

Vikk's P.O.V.

Blood print stains on the floor of a powdered room
Cracks in the mirror starting to show too soon
Miss Caroline streaming down her face
Her cocaine lipstick smile is such a waste

I was 13 years old when I realised something was different. Maybe I always knew that something was wrong, a little different from my peers but I didn't quite have the words to put to it, at least until I got my first phone and did some research online.

I was transgender, a transgender girl and finally I had something, a name to put to how I was feeling and it felt great, at least until I realized what it would mean for me.

On the floor, she's almost dead
She remembers the words that her father once said

How would I tell my parents? They were ultra conservative and religious and would never accept me for who I was, their daughter rather than their son, and if I told them they would kick me out. My siblings would likely be the same, they had picked up my parents beliefs unquestioningly and would no doubt ostracize me.

What about my friends? Many of them didn't even know what the word transgender meant, we were young and naïve and the school system didn't educate us about being apart of the LGBTQ+ community, they pretended we didn't exist.

"No, you don't need make up to cover your face, love
You're beautiful now, within and without, be good to yourself, you're doing me proud
No, You don't need make up to cover your scars up
You're beautiful now, within and without, and never forget
You're doing me proud"

It took years for me to accept myself, believe that I wasn't just pretending, it wasn't just a phase and that I really was transgender but even then I couldn't do anything. I was living in a house with 3 other boys by the time I fully came around to who I was and by then I thought it was too late; my masculine self was out on the internet for the world to see.

I and the other Sidemen had gathered fans, numbering in the millions by the time we moved into the second house, and I knew that I couldn't tell anyone. It was too late to come out, I was too old and I had too many fans that wouldn't accept me and if I came out I could be homeless, jobless and because I was already two steps from the edge, probably dead.

She's locked up in a prison made up of thoughts
She puts no worth on anything she's got
'Cause no one believes that she was born this way
And heaven knows that God don't make mistakes, no

One of my many secrets was the little bag in the bottom of my wardrobe, full of the things that I didn't want anyone to find. I dug it out and held it in my lap, running my fingers through the items inside because it was so comforting to know that some part of me could sometimes be out there, even if I was always alone.

I held a tube of mascara between my fingers and twirled it a little, considering putting it on. There were others in the house and often I didn't risk it but I hadn't been home alone lately and hadn't had the time to do anything for me or my mental health.

I smiled to myself and took the bag into the bathroom, happy for just a little while.

On the floor, he's almost dead
He remembers the words that his father once said

No one would believe me.

That was all I could think as I collapsed to the floor. I had been staring in the mirror, pinching and poking my body and looking at all the things that I hated, all the things that I wanted to change while I was meant to be doing my makeup. I was thankful that I was short, only 5"8, but my face was too masculine, I had facial hair, I was too skinny and angled to ever pass as a girl. I had no hope.

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