Chapter Two: Jace

You think that it's easy being popular. You think that it's easy having everyone either drool over you or curse your name before they sleep. You think that it's easy having everyone have huge expectations for you.

Well, you're right.

Everyone accepts what you do; they're eventually just going to copy you anyways. They accept who you are no matter if you're a douche or not. As long as you have a pretty face they'll like you.

But I'm faking it. Mostly. I mean, I try and be myself as much as possible. I'm not a mean person. But sometimes to keep my rep, I have to be mean. And it pains me every time I make fun of the way someone looks or what somebody likes. Because I know that I would hate it if somebody made fun of me for what I am.

Gay.

I figured it out when I was twelve. I had snuck into my friend's older sister Chloe's room bedroom when she was at a birthday party. She was sixteen. She had a DVD popped in the player. The DVD case had said the title was "Rainbow Boys in New York". That was it. No cover or anything, just the words. Being twelve, the fact that I was in my sister's room was exciting and the DVD had me curious. So I watched it. All sixty-six minutes of guys in speedos making out with one another. It was the first porno I ever watched and it seemed to be the only I've ever liked.

As I watched Maxxie continue down the nearly empty hallway in his flabbergasted state, I couldn't help but smile. He was hot. Very hot. I've always been a sucker for blonde hair, which Maxxie was sporting in an uncombed heap on his head. His eyes were gorgeous too, blue with flecks of turquoise and gold. They were like masterpieces that needed to be framed, which they were by huge dark frames.

I felt my best friend John put his tanned hand on my shoulder. I glanced at him sideways, unable to wipe the grin off my face.

"Dude," he muttered, "why did you help Max out?”

Just hearing his name made me grin harder. "Why not?"

John looked at me flatly. "Dude, he's Max Gray. He goes by the name Maxxie. He's obsessed with comics. He must be gay!”

My heart panged. If Maxxie was gay then I was in heaven. Of course it would be almost impossible for us to be together even if he was gay, but a guy could dream, couldn't he? If I had Maxxie to myself, to hold in my arms, to see in the stands or in the theatre watching me perform, I would love that. No, I would kill for that. You could say that I was lonely. The last time I had been in any kind of relationship had been in the eighth grade when my best girl friend had asked me out. I had only said yes because of the peer pressure. Plus, I didn't want to hurt her feelings. We'd gone out for a week before I broke things off. She then went on and dated John for a bit.

I shrugged away from John and began to strut down the hallway, binders in hand. I arrived at my locker and began to twist the combo into my lock. As I did so I said, "Just because he goes by the name Maxxie doesn't mean he's gay. And since when is reading comics gay? Don't you read comics?"

He shook his head. "Correction, I read them. Past tense. That was way back in the fifth grade before they were gay."

I clenched my jaw. Even though I was in the closet it didn't give John the right to insult gays in front of me. In truth, John didn't know I liked men, so I couldn't expect him to understand.

"Don't say gay that way," I said. "Please."

He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. "Gaygaygaygaygay."

I curled my fingers into a fist. John knew better than to piss me off. I guess I had a slight bit of a control and anger management issue. But what could you expect when you were usually given the right of way?

"Gaygaygaygaygay," John continued.

Anger got the best of me. I shoved John back into the lockers. He gasped a little, stunned at the sudden force. His hazel eyes were as wide as dinner plates, questioning me. I flared my nostrils, mostly at myself. If I was trying to keep my true self hidden, I wasn't doing a very good job.

"Dude," John hissed. "What the hell was that for?"

I drew a deep breath in. I counted to ten, trying to calm myself down. I thought of Maxxie and that surprisingly helped—it always helped. I peeled my hands away from John's shoulders.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I guess it's my time of the month."

John exhaled through his nose. "Yeah. I guess it is."

>>><<<

If there was one person that wouldn't accept me being gay, it would be my dad. You could say that he was a traditional guy. Super religious, he was. It's not like he'd ever said that he didn't like gays, but you could tell that he wouldn't. Whenever my younger sister Jules watched Glee on TV, he frowned at Kurt and Blaine. I usually just sat there thinking how attractive Chris Colfer was.

I dug my keys out of my pocket and slipped it into the gold coloured lock. I turned it once before swinging it open. I took the key out and stepped into the house. I shivered; my dad liked to keep the place freezing all year round. He said it kept his temper at bay.

I trudged through the house into the kitchen. I swung the stainless steel fridge door open, gazing at all the organic things in it. I sighed. My mother was trying to 'detoxify' her life. Now that whole family had to suffer. I quickly pulled an organic fruit and vegetable juice box from one of the shelves. I shut the door with my hip before trudging back through the house and up the spiral staircase. As I sipped my juice, I popped my head into my younger sister's room.

"Hey Jules," I said.

She gave me a quick wave before turning back to her book. I smirked and took a step into her room. I sat on her pink sheeted bed and peered over her shoulder. I saw that she was reading a book on pregnancy. I jerked my head back and stared at her.

"Whoa, is there something you're not telling me?" I demanded.

She looked at me flatly with eyes that matched mine. She flicked her light brown bangs out of her face and said, "No, I'm not pregnant. But I have to read it for my stupid eighth grade project in health class." She sighed. "I have to write ten reasons why we should wear protection to keep from getting pregnant."

I suppressed a chuckle. Wasn't the answer obvious? You should wear protection to keep from having to lug around about twenty extra pounds for nine months. That was the good thing about being gay. We could have unprotected sex and not have to worry about getting each other knocked up.

Jules groaned and shut the book. "I really don't care about this. I know that I need to use condoms and not get pregnant. 'Nuff said."

I smiled and shook my head. I slowly stood up and said, "Kid, you got a lot to learn."

I quickly padded out of the room and into my own room. This place was my safe harbor. This was the place I could be myself and not have anyone care. Everything about it was special—everything from the baby blue walls to the things hanging on it. My whole childhood was on display. My trophies and medals from sports and drama, pictures of my friends and I, drawings I had drawn out of boredom. At the moment I was heading straight for my bedside table. I slowly pulled out the oak drawer, pulling out a big wad of paper and a box of sketching pencils. I then flopped on the red beddings on my bed, my head at the foot.

I nimbly pulled a piece of paper from the pile. My breath caught when I saw it, as it always did. I ran my fingers across the page, hoping to feel all the curves and edges that were drawn. But I didn't. They weren't real. It was just a drawing.

I picked up a gray pencil and added something to the picture. My hand moved swiftly across the page. I then picked up a yellow pencil crayon and added the details. I smiled at it.

It was my Batman, Maxxie. And I had of course added the underwear that I hoped I would someday see him in.