Misfit Angel
Normal is an illusion
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2013
- Messages
- 2,822
- Reaction score
- 1,308
- Thread starter
- #2
- Content warnings -
[ minor strong language] :: [ minor sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]
[ minor strong language] :: [ minor sexually suggestive content and innuendos ]
Prologue: Finding Comfort In Clothes And Cosmetics
.+:。(✿ノ・ω・)ノ゙:・゚✧
"Damn... She's pretty cute looking..." I mused. In front of me was an absolute cutie, with bright blue eyes, and long silky hair that was dyed a striking fiery red. Her shoulders were hidden under a black cardigan, covered in knotted celtic designs down the chest and long sleeves. A flowy orange and white tartan skirt was draped over her narrow legs, and her look was rounded off by... what the hell were those boots? They looked like they belonged on a junkyard worker! Regardless, I was smitten by the girl in front of me!
But it wasn't a real girl. It was a fake, a reflection in a dusty mirror. My reflection.
I always told myself that it was just a dumb hobby of mine. Sneaking into my sister's room and trying her clothes on to see how I look, I mean. But the more I did it, the less sure I was that it was just a hobby. It felt like it went deeper, but I was never sure of just how deeper it could go. Sure, we all knew about the drag queen contests hosted in the various nightclubs in Alderny's glamorous Glitter Strip, but there were always rumors going around the school about the 11th grade biology teacher, Ms. Beckenridge, not actually being a lady. I never knew if I could trust those rumors; she seemed genuine enough...
Whatever. Something to worry about later, I always told myself. But, I was quickly becoming an adult at that point, just a week off from being 18. How much later could I worry about it?
"Hmm..." I said, staring into the mirror as I adjusted the unruly red wig that covered my natural short brown hair. My eyes were drawn to a golden glimmer on the table beside me -- my sister's ruby red lipstick. "I wonder..."
I grabbed the lipstick and removed the cap. I wasn't quite sure what to do with it; obviously I knew that it was meant to go on my lips, but I didn't know how. I twisted the base and watched the waxy red stick emerge, then pressed it against my lower lip as I stared at myself in the mirror.
...What a disaster! By the time I was done, I looked like a Beartic who had just ravenously devoured a Seel, face red with poorly applied clown makeup. I tried to carefully fix it by "drawing" around my lips with a piece of cloth, but all I achieved was making the mess worse. Maybe I wasn't ready for lipstick yet -- how the fuck did girls do this so effortlessly? I've watched my sister put that lipstick on dozens of times, and it always just glides on. No mess, no fuss, in one smooth motion. She doesn't even need a mirror anymore.
"Nick? What the hell are you doing!?"
I was so self-absorbed in my reflection that I didn't even notice her -- my sister, Catherine. Speak of the devil! The literal devil! She was stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, glaring at me. But also... smirking?
"Uhh, uhhh..." I managed to whimper. "It's not what it looks like!"
She let loose a mocking "Tch!" and crossed her arms. "Yeah, yeah. That's what they all say, and it's never true."
I put her lipstick down and looked off to the side in shame.
"Alright then, you wiseass! Tell me what this is! Because I'm pretty sure it'll amount to what it looks like."
She was right. She caught her brother -- the idiot who thought she was going to be out for far longer than she was -- sneaking into her room and putting on her clothes, and even experimenting with her makeup. Any lie I spun probably would have been obvious, so I relented and told her she was right, widening that smirk of hers. She always loved being right.
"Ugh!" I stomped angrily. Almost cutely. "What are you smiling at?"
She approached, grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to face the mirror again. "Nick, how long have you been doing this for?"
I honestly couldn't remember. Almost half my life, at least. I remember being super excited that I'd be home alone on my thirteenth birthday, because that meant that I could lock the doors up tight, close the blinds, put on one of Catherine's flowy, flowery dresses and just live like that for a day.
"Umm. A long time, I think."
"And you still can't get the lipstick right..." She took on a playful and mocking tone. "And what is that eyeshadow? That's such a scandal waiting to happen! Did you do your nails, too? Lemme see 'em!" She grabbed my hand and pulled it up to chest height; it was trembling. "Are your hands always this shaky? That would explain it..."
"No... They're shaking because I've been found out... Please don't tell mom or dad, I'm not ready to be kicked out yet..."
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrow. "I'm not sure they'd kick you out."
"Maybe you don't pay attention, but do you know how much pressure dad puts me under to be his manly-man business heir? The shit he says about gay people? Not that I am, but I don't trust him to make that distinction... When he finds out I do this... He'll... He..."
She let go of my hand and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Her voice and her excitement softened. "Hey... Don't worry. I wasn't going to, but I promise I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. I think a lot of the pressure you feel from dad is in your head, but... Your secret is safe with me."
Those were some pretty hollow words coming from the tattle tale champion herself. "You mean it?"
"Of course I do. Yeah, dad's a bit of a hardass when it comes to masculinity and 'what's right', but... What you're doing is perfectly harmless, so whose business is that besides your own?"
My nerves began to ease with her soft and comforting words.
"...and my business, too, I guess. If you're going to be wearing my clothes, I mean." She paused, raised her eyebrow and glared at me again, but back in that playful and almost worrying manner. "Now just how far does this go? You're not wearing my underwear under all of that, are you?"
"Ggh! No! It's not like that!"
She laughed. "Okay, good. Because I'll only humor you so far. If you're going to go further, you're going to need some of your own. The rest is fine, but I ain't sharing those with my brother."
At the time, I didn't even think about going that far... But it was an option I had?
"So, I take it you haven't been practicing with makeup that long, based on how it looks."
"Right."
"Well, you want me to show you a trick or two? Lipstick is really easy once you get the hang of it." She brushed the red hair away from my face. "And your eyeshadow isn't as bad as I made it sound, sorry. Have you been practicing that for longer?"
I couldn't believe how accepting she was about it. Boys dressing like girls was always a subject worthy of ridicule at school, and I usually jumped into that dogpile myself... Despite being what we were making fun of. It was nice to see someone who didn't think like that for a change. Someone who was patient with my numerous questions. Someone who didn't even think twice about accepting what I was doing.
It was too bad, though. I finally found someone who not only accepted me and my stupid fun, but encouraged it! But, as usual, fortune never favored me; she was leaving home in just a couple months to start her career as a competitive Pokémon trainer, and I might never get to see her again...