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 Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 6:36 pm
He spent an hour getting ready that morning. He couldn’t ever remember having so much trouble figuring out what to wear, but Chris had always made the endeavor nearly impossible, and now that they were barely even speaking to one another, the problem had grown ten times worse.
At first, he’d tried a regular pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, but decided he wasn’t going to hide who he was just to make Chris feel more comfortable about his gender. Then it was simply a matter of tossing shirts and dresses around his room trying to find something that wasn’t too outrageous without making it seem as if he were trying too hard to tame his habits. Finally, he settled on a pair of dark knee-length leggings and a loose pink shirt over a white tank top, with a pair of simple brown ankle boots to complete it all. Not too flashy, but still him.
Then it was his hair. He’d gone to the salon the day before to get his bangs trimmed in a way that flattered his face, and had left after getting his hair chemically straightened instead of continuing to abuse his curls with a flat iron whenever he wanted it straight—which seemed to be frequently nowadays. He liked the way the length and the layers framed and softened his face. Yet, in spite of all the money he’d spent on it, he couldn’t figure out how to style it that day. First it was up, then it was half up, then it was in pigtails, then it was bound to the side. Eventually he pulled all clips, elastics and accessories out of it and simply let it hang loose, though his hand would occasionally rise to run through it compulsively.
He didn’t know why he was stressing so much and putting this amount of effort into his appearance when he knew it wasn’t likely to win Chris over. His looks had been what had fooled Chris, after all. He doubted Chris would be impressed by his fair features any longer. He probably could have shown up in a potato sack for all the other boy cared. Nothing he did other than denying who he was and catering to expectations would make Chris feel any less bitter than he surely must.
Paris arrived at the café they were scheduled to meet at twenty minutes early. He went inside to stand in line for a drink and debated between a hot chocolate and a hot tea, deciding on the latter when he thought some herbal variety might calm his nerves. It didn’t help. He took a seat at one of the tables outside, glancing around and taking in his surroundings while nervously tapping one of his feet, waiting for his tea to cool off enough to sip without burning his tongue and wondering if this was really such a good idea.
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 7:32 pm
He wasn't really sure why he thought talking to Paris was such a good idea. Their last conversation had been awkward and nerve wracking, and the one before that had involved him throwing things and pitching a fit... It was now almost three weeks later and he was feeling pretty worn down about the entire situation. Paris had been a huge part in his day-to-day life, even with school and knight stuff going on, so in the last three weeks, he'd found himself with nothing to do and just lazing miserably about.
Regardless of his worries and reservations on placing himself in a vulnerable place to get his heart hurt again, Chris decided to meet with Paris and give him a chance to explain. Especially since he hadn't given him a chance, before. But really... what was there to explain??
Chris didn't dress specially for the meeting, although he did fuss over his hair a bit, if only because he was nervous and his hair was starting to curl at the base of his neck. It had been a few months since he'd gotten a proper haircut and it was starting to show. Okay, it was really showing... but he wasn't about to run out and worry about that when there were more pressing matters to deal with... Like school...
He was wearing what he'd usually wear — a polo and khaki shorts — and with the scruffy hair he was sure he looked like some wannabe surfer... or something like that. Either way he slowly approached the cafe where he was supposed to meet the boy who had been posing as his girlfriend for months. His hands were in his pockets since he didn't know what else to do with them, and only glanced up to see if Paris was waiting for him when he arrived at the tables outside the shop. Chris noticed him right away, of course. Paris still looked like a girl, but he did look a little different... he'd had his bangs cut.
"Hey," he greeted, shuffling his feet once he was close enough, before glancing up at the shop and nodding to it. "I'm... gonna get some coffee... I'll... be right back..." he promised and went to stand in line for a few moments before making his way back outside... and after another momentary hesitation... finally sat down at the table.
"Uh... I like it... your hair..." he said, remembering to force a tiny smile. It wasn't like he hated Paris... he just... felt stupid for being tricked and was bitter that he'd been lied to.
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 7:51 pm
When Chris finally showed, Paris almost stood to his feet to greet him, and only managed to stop himself at the last minute, covering for the sudden movement by pretending to shift into a more comfortable position in his chair. He looked up and tried not to let himself react -- no change in his body language, no change in his facial expression -- an that he managed to do a fairly good job not seeming nervous or out of place. At least he thought he did better than Chris.
He waited for him to wander back out of the cafe, suddenly finding that he had nothing to do with his hands. He picked at some invisible lint on one knee of his leggings, then fiddled with the salt shaker until he managed to drop it and spill salt everywhere. He returned the shaker to its proper place beside the pepper and brushed the white grainy mess off of the table just in time, as Chris returned to take a seat across from him.
Under normal circumstances -- or, he supposed he should say, "previous circumstances," since very little about their situation before had been normal -- Paris would have smiled at the compliment paid to him. As things were now, it didn't sound like much of a compliment anymore. He didn't feel anything behind it, not like he used to when Chris told him he was beautiful. It was a painful loss, and one he struggled to conceal by momentarily lowering his eyes.
"You don't have to force it," he told his ex, waiting until he had himself a bit more under control before looking up at him again. "We're not dating anymore. Or at least I'm assuming we're not dating anymore. You threw me out, and considering that I'm--"
He cut himself off. No point rubbing it in.
"Anyway... don't feel like he have to be nice to me or whatever. I'm the one who ******** up," he pointed out, not bothering to censure himself. There were times when course language was a more appropriate description than less vulgar terms. Paris thought this was one of those times.
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 8:14 pm
Chris frowned in confusion, about to open his mouth and explain to Paris that he hadn't been forcing it. The smile, sure... he hadn't felt like smiling in weeks... but the compliment was genuine. He clamped his mouth shut and glanced down at the coffee cup in his hands, set on the table.
"Right..." he mumbled after a few moments, running his fingers along the seam of the cardboard cozy around the cup that kept him from burning his hands, his eyes lowered to the band of his watch. Great, what was he supposed to say now...?
"What... did you want to talk about...?" he ventured, not knowing what else to lead with. Paris had wanted to talk to him... he's been the one to ignore him and run away and not want to have anything to do with him... "How's your dad...? And the shop...?" Ah, that was also being 'nice', wasn't it...? "Um... just wondering, I mean..."
This was stupid... Why was he feeling so cornered when he had volunteered to do this?? And he hadn't been the one to lie to Paris, but he had overreacted when he'd found out. He supposed he should be impressed that Paris would even want to talk to him after he'd pitched his little fit that night he'd told him. And it wasn't like he'd found out on his own! Paris had told him... eventually...
He didn't know if he should be pissed or feel ashamed... or both.
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 8:32 pm
"Dad's fine. Or okay, I guess. He still acts like a b*****d, so he can't be too bad," Paris replied easily enough, shifting nervously before risking a sip of his tea. It was still pretty hot, so he set it down but kept his hands around the cup. "The shop isn't any different. I work weekdays and let Dad cover Saturday. It's not too hard, just slow and boring."
He glanced off to the side, studied a few of the other cafe patrons -- a mother with her young child, a middle aged man reading the paper, a couple of older high school or college aged girls giggling and gossiping to one another. Normal, every day stuff in a city that was far from normal.
He looked back at Chris again and let out a sigh. "We don't have to do this, you know. Pretend to be nice or concerned. I know you're pissed off. I'm not going to act like I don't deserved it. I did a really crappy thing and I can't say I'm proud of it this time."
With any other guy, he wouldn't have cared. Once again, Chris was different.
"I wanted to do this because I figure you have some questions or... or you want some explanations to things, and I'd rather do it like this than over the phone."
Part of him thought that maybe if they did it this way, if he could see Chris and Chris could see him, and Chris knew how sorry he was, how earnest he was to fix things, maybe everything would be okay and they could move passed this and figure out where to go from here, maybe they could somehow be together again.
The more logical part of him knew that couldn't possibly be the case, but that didn't diminish the foolish hope at all.
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 9:28 pm
"That's good," he said, nodding lightly when Paris said how his dad was doing, although he winced a little when he said how he wasn't being all that friendly. Well... he'd never met his father, so he only knew how he was like from what Paris told him.
"I didn't think I was pretending," Chris said, glancing up from his coffee, not intending to sound as tense as he knew he probably did. He wasn't trying to pretend. It was bad enough that he'd been lied to. The last thing he wanted to do was to build an even bigger barrier between them.
"You lied to me," he said with a frown, although he didn't know what else to add. There wasn't anything else to add... He felt like a moron for not figuring it out earlier, and he fought back a blush as his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. How could he have been so stupid as to miss something that important?? "I don't know what you want me to ask, Paris... Maybe... Why did you do it...?"
He already knew the answer, though... it was because he'd meant to trick him, but then... something changed...
"That's... that's why you never let me meet your father, isn't it?? Because then your secret would have been blown..." Of course... it made so much sense. Why would Paris let him meet his family when they would have told him that he was an idiot and ruined all of Paris's plans...??
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 9:52 pm
Paris almost responded with a "no s**t" to Chris's obvious comment, but decided that would be a bad idea and bit his tongue around the response, waiting until he could trust himself not to say anything sarcastic or confrontational before responding. He'd been the one to invite Chris out, so he should at least be polite until Chris gave him a damned good reason not to be.
"At first, I thought it would be funny," he said with a shrug, lowering his eyes again. "You seemed like a pretty okay guy, but it was obvious you fell for it, so I wanted to see how long it'd take you to figure it out on your own. Then, when you didn't... I... I don't know, I guess I got too attached. I liked you, I liked being with you, and I didn't want to lose that, so... so I kept it going."
He kicked himself for it now. He knew better than to get attached like that. He'd tried to prevent it, insisted on taking things slow specifically to prevent that from happening, to keep them both from getting too deeply into it, but they had anyway. It had all spiraled out of control before he'd realized it.
"I didn't want to lose you," he admitted. "But then I knew I was being unfair to you and I liked you too much to keep doing that to you, and it got harder not to just say something so... so I told you."
All that effort he'd put into the big reveal, and none of it had mattered in the end. He'd known it wouldn't. Still, cynical as he was by nature, he could never squash that small grain of hope he always carried around.
"My dad probably wouldn't have cared one way or the other. He might have even thought it was funny, too. I just didn't think it was such a big deal, you meeting him. I wanted to be with you because it was different than everything else. I didn't have to worry about the rest of my life while we were together, so... I didn't want to introduce you to my parents."
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 10:28 pm
"Oh..." Chris mumbled stupidly when Paris let him know that it didn't really matter whether he knew or not for Paris to let Chris meet his father. He had been sure that had been why he'd never been allowed to meet his father. Chris's sense of... being proper and polite and traditional had been put aside when Paris didn't let him meet his family when they'd been dating, but now that he realized that it wouldn't have mattered either way... well, it deflated him a bit.
"You didn't want to lose me...?" he asked, frowning at Paris across from him, not sure what he could possibly mean by that. "How did you expect me to react...? I thought you were a girl, Paris! You lied to me, you told me you went to Crystal... That you had a scholarship. You did what you could to impress me and... and I fell for that..." he confessed, trailing off at the end when he realized that his voice was raising a bit. He didn't want to draw attention to them and he didn't want to lose his temper again. It just seemed so stupid for Paris to think that everything would suddenly be okay if he told him the truth.
"I don't know what to believe anymore, Paris..." And it hurt not knowing what he could trust and what he couldn't. "I liked you, too... A lot. You were the first person I'd taken time to get to know in a long time. Not since my last girlfriend and I swore to myself that I wouldn't let that happen again. That I would do what I could to... to not make you bored with me... But jeez, I must be the most boring guy you've ever met! Why did you even bother?? We never did anything fun! The most we did was go out to restaurants and I think... one movie. And we went sailing... and I made you go to that stupid camp! Why??"
It confused him to no end that Paris would put that much time and energy into something that was... fake... It was just too much. Either Paris wasn't in his right mind or... who knew...
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 1:03 pm
"Sometimes I really don't understand you," Paris said with an exasperated roll of his eyes, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "First you're pissed that I lied to you because you think you deserve better than to be treated like that, and now you can't understand why anyone would want to date you because you seem to think being nice makes you too boring. Which is it, Christopher? Are you too good for people or not good enough, because it doesn't seem to me as if you have any idea."
He couldn't even see where this issue was coming from. What did Chris really have to worry about in his life? What could he have been through aside from being cheated on by his previous girlfriend to make him question things like that? He had good parents, he had a decent home life, he went to a good school, he made good grades, he got a scholarship because he was good enough to play ball at a college level, and people thought he was good enough to play with the big boys. He had a normal, peaceful life surrounded by normal, openhearted people. What could he possibly see in himself that was in any way dull or boring or not worth keeping?
"Look at me. Look at where I'm from. Look at what I've done to you, what I've done to plenty of people. It hasn't just been you. Ladon thought I was a girl before, until I told him who I was and he remembered me from Meadowview. I've been to clubs and tricked people just for a laugh. I tricked your mother and your father and your little brother until he managed to put two and two together, and then I paid him off to keep him from telling you because I was afraid of losing you."
That probably wasn't going to go over very well, he admitting to blackmailing Peter, but it was going to come to light eventually now that they weren't together any more and he figured it was better that it come from him than Chris hearing Peter whine and gloat about it.
"I liked you -- like you," he corrected himself, "because you're different from all the other guys, Chris. If you saw some of the guys I've been with before, maybe you would understand. Maybe they weren't bad people, and maybe some of them had a decent excuse for acting the way they did, but they weren't all good people either. I let people use me and take advantage of me because I thought that's all I was good for, and I used and took advantage of other people because I thought that's all they were good for, too. My mother left me, my father's a drunk, I live in a crappy area of town that nobody cares to fix, around people who've pretty much given up hope of finding something better, and I've let people treat me like s**t because the only thing I've ever had going for me is that I'm pretty and I'm a ******** good dancer."
Paris barely even stopped to take a breath. Once he got going, he didn't even realize half the things he was saying until it was all out of the mouth and sitting between them, tense and uncomfortable.
"And then you wonder why I would want to be with you? When you've treated me better than anyone else ever has? I finally got respect from you. I wasn't worthless or a mistake or a temporary lapse in judgement. It didn't matter that we only went to dinner, or the movies, or sailing, because you would look at me and say 'Paris, you look beautiful,' and I knew that you meant it and that you weren't just saying it because you knew that's all it would take to get in my pants. Why would I want to be with anyone else and feel like garbage all the time when I could sit with you and watch a movie and feel like I was worth everything?"
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 2:24 pm
Chris looked up in surprise when Paris said he didn't understand him, not sure what there was to not understand. But he kept his mouth shut when Paris started talking.
He... didn't know how to answer Paris's first question, though. Did he think he was better than other people? Occasionally... But that was because people did stupid things, but that didn't mean people were bad. Paris knew that he tended to trust first, ask questions later more often than not. He had no idea why he didn't feel like he was good enough at times, but he didn't. Maybe his optimism could only reach so far...?
"You paid off my brother??" he sputtered when it came up, but Paris wasn't done, so he shut his mouth again but stared at him in shock. How did his brother know but he didn't?? Maybe he was just blinded by the opportunity to be in what he thought was a good relationship. Paris had been... too good to be true, and it turned out that he'd been right.
But hearing everything Paris was saying now, Chris couldn't help but shrink down in his chair a bit, feeling horrible for all the s**t he must have gone though. He had no idea how it was like to grow up in a rough or broken family. Sure, his dad was gone a lot, but he was still there when he could be, went to ball games, took them to the park, taught them how to ride a bike... all those things. To be without a mother and had a father who didn't care... Paris must have gone though a lot. And he knew that he had before — this wasn't the first time that Paris told him about his family, but being reminded seemed to solidify it more.
"You're not worthless," he heard himself saying before he could think about it. But he stopped himself before he could agree that Paris was beautiful. He was, but he wasn't going to say it since... that just frustrated him more. He didn't think Paris was worthless, though. And he hated that people would make him feel that way.
He didn't look up at Paris as he mumbled to himself, keeping his eyes on his coffee cup. He felt like crap already, and now he was feeling worse. Maybe this really was a bad idea. All he'd done was accuse Paris of stuff and then made to feel worse. If anyone was worthless he was for freaking out like he had. Well... Paris was a boy and that didn't change anything...
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 2:48 pm
Paris didn't even bother to explain the situation with Peter. He'd said enough about it already. If Chris wanted to know more, he could go ask Peter about it. It was the little brat's conniving behavior that had led to the blackmail in the first place. Let him get in trouble for demanding payment to keep his mouth shut, or for accepting it instead of saying something in the first place.
Instead, Paris continued to stare at Chris across the table, his arms still folded over his chest. He really didn't get this. Here he was practically praising Chris for being such a nice guy -- albeit, doing so with a bit of an attitude -- and Chris decided he wanted to take everything he said and twist it around to suit whatever delusions he had about himself, which, to Paris, seemed rather unwarranted to begin with.
"Instead of worrying about why I would want to be with you when I think I've told you all this before, why don't you focus on the more important stuff? I lied to you, Christopher, as you felt the need to remind me just a minute ago, before you decided to act like a brat with the self-esteem of a fourteen year old."
This felt so much better than the awkward exchange they'd had on the phone, not just because he could physically see Chris, but because it was easier to react, easier to get his feelings out when Chris couldn't so easily shut him out by hanging up on him. If Chris wanted out of this conversation now, he could easily get up and leave, but Paris could just as easily follow him to continue the confrontation until everything was out there. Now, he didn't bother to hide his annoyance or anger because he desperately needed a release from it.
"What was it you asked me on the phone?" he prodded. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about that?"
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 3:16 pm
"What the hell do you know, Paris?" he shot, his eyes snapping up to lock onto the turquoise eyes across the table. "Yeah, you lied to me and I'm angry that you tricked me for months. But I don't have the self-esteem of a fourteen-year-old! And I'm not acting like a brat. You said it yourself. You were the one who had messed things up!"
What he was doing was trying to keep his temper in check. If he felt like crap he would be less likely to lash out. But since Paris felt the need to get upset with him... Okay, so yeah. Maybe he was acting like he had the self-esteem of a fourteen-year-old, but he wasn't going to admit that. If anything, it just made him angry to have that pointed out. What? He wasn't allowed to have a bad day and feel like crap?
And it wasn't as though Paris didn't act like a fourteen-year-old, himself! Well... he didn't exactly have solid evidence that Paris acted like a fourteen-year-old, but he could assume that he did.
Alright, that was a very weak argument, which was why Chris didn't say anything out loud, and instead just... took a sip of his coffee and glanced around to make sure no one else was watching or actively eavesdropping.
"I asked if you wanted to be a girl or not," he said through his teeth, reminding himself to not blow up in public. That was the last thing he wanted — to have a fight with Paris in the presence of everyone around them. One, because it would be embarrassing if he ended up flipping he table or something ridiculous like that, but also because he didn't particularly think it was anyone's business about their... once relationship.
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 3:58 pm
That was more like it. That was more along the lines of what he'd been expecting. The cursing, the blame, the disappointment, the accusations. Those were much easier to deal with than Chris's weird mood swings and identity crisis or whatever he was going through at the moment. Paris actually sat up a little straighter in his chair, as if he were preparing himself for a few more barbs being thrown back and forth, though he kept his arms in their crossed position.
He wanted to point out all the ways in which Chris was being a brat, but maturely decided to let it go.
For now...
"Do I want to be a girl?" he repeated, and then paused to consider it.
Chris wasn't the first person to ask him that, though the amount of people who had over the course of his life was low. There'd been issues around the neighborhood when he was younger, but he chose not to dwell on them because they were far beyond changing at this point. People used to have plenty of explanations as to why he wanted to dress as a girl, and he usually let them think what they wanted because part of him didn't care and another part of him was just as confused about it as everyone else was. Things got both easier and more difficult as he got older -- difficult because he thought he knew even less now than he had before, and easier because people in his neighborhood shrugged it off or got over it and let him do what he wanted. To them, he was one of the girls and one of the boys all at once and none of them really had a problem with it.
Strangers were a bit different. They still gave him the odd looks, but perhaps weren't comfortable enough to ask 'why.'
"I don't know, honestly," he replied, lifting his shoulders in another shrug. "Should I have been born a girl? Maybe. Sometimes I think I should have. Other times I'm confused about it. For now I just... I just know what makes me comfortable. I like who I am. If I have any problems with my body, it's not major enough for me to consider surgery. I just want to feel like me, and dressing like this helps with that. If some people think it's weird, that's their business. I like what I like, I am what I am, and I've never really been all that concerned about what other people think about it."
He paused, glancing at Chris carefully, before uncrossing his arms and returning his hands to his drink. "Would it have been better... if I had a more concrete answer? Would it have made lying to you better? Would it have made you more accepting of what I did?"
He didn't think it should. Whether or not he was one thing and wanted to be another, it was still a pretty big lie to tell.
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 6:52 pm
Chris continued to frown as Paris thought about how he wanted to answer, before nodding and looking down to glare at his coffee cup. "No," he snapped, irritated and feeling like he was being judged for no real reason other than the fact that he'd been dating a boy for the past several months and Paris had been the one to trick him. "No, I wouldn't have been more accepting or whatever. You lied, either way... I just..."
He trailed off.
What didn't he want to do...? Babylon had brought up how he could have broken a trans girl's heart, as if that would have been worse than breaking a boy's heart... Paris being a boy or a boy wanting to be a girl didn't change anything, although apparently it did change things from Babylon's point of view.
"I don't like being lied to," he decided to finish with, thinking that once again his argument was weak. It had been false advertising for him, and when it turned out that Paris was a boy, not only was he humiliated but it had dashed his expectations he'd had of their continued relationship.
As for Paris telling him right away... He didn't think that would have been a good idea, either. He would have happily been his friend, sure, but then he wouldn't have gotten to know him as well as he had. Or as well as he thought he had. Knowing that he had been played for a fool at the beginning was still enough to make his blood boil, but he could understand snowballed lies...
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 7:06 pm
Paris sat in silence for a few moments, trying to figure out if his answer had just pissed Chris off more or if it had made him think of things at all. Probably not. It didn't change anything. He didn't think it would even if his answer had been different. Important as it was to know, that had never been the point of the matter. Trust had been broken either way, and it didn't seem as if it could be fixed -- not any time soon, maybe not ever.
With Chris, it was the lie that mattered. No explanation would ever be good enough to make up for that.
"So..." Paris began, glancing off to the side again, not sure he wanted to look at Chris's face as he asked, "If I'd told you from the beginning, would things have been different? Would you've still wanted to date me?"
It was a dumb question, he thought, and he wished he could take it back as soon as it was out there. Chris could take it in too many different ways for it to be a safe thing to ask -- he could think he was being mocked, or even that Paris was joking. He wasn't. He was honestly curious. He knew where the crux of the problem lied, but he didn't know how things would have been if that problem had never been there to begin with.
"Nevermind. I'm just being an idiot. Of course you wouldn't've," he said, to spare Chris the necessity of providing an answer he didn't want to hear. "Look, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, and I want you to believe me," he continued, forcing himself to look at Chris again as he said it. It would be pretty meaningless if he couldn't even look him in the face. "I mean it. I'm sorry. I never meant for it to be like this."
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