Selina Skies
September 18, 2020 9:42 PM
Charity Fair by Selina Skies
Selina surveyed the Quidditch pitch with pleasure and pride. The students really had done a wonderful job in putting together a range of wonderful booths for a range of wonderful causes. It hadn’t been the easiest year for a lot of people, and it was nice to be reminded of the goodness in the world. She hoped that the fair would serve as that.The students had, with staff supervision, been busily setting up their booths during the morning. That, of course, meant that many of them had already caught a glimpse of what was out here, although they had gone back to the school building for lunch and a chance to freshen up if they needed it. Now they were all gathered back at the pitch, the students who were staffing their booths first already standing in place, with everyone else assembled at one end of the pitch. A little white picket fence surrounded the area where the fair was taking place, and a large arch stood behind Selina, currently sealed off with a ribbon.
“Welcome to the Sonora Charity fair,” Selina addressed them, amplifying her voice so that everyone could hear her, whether they were waiting at the archway or staffing a booth, “From what I’ve seen and heard of the preparations, we have a huge range of wonderful causes and a lot of very creative ways to support them. I’m so impressed, and I am looking forward to getting a chance to see them up close. I hope you’ll all take the time to make your way around and support each other’s stalls. As well as the booths run by your peers, we have some snack vendors on site, though there’s also free water at the first aid tent, and snacks as per usual up at the school.” They had brought in a couple of fair-related food stalls, checking their students’ plans to make sure none of them competed directly, to add to the ambience, and with the vendors each advertising a charity that they would donate a portion of their profits too. Still, it was a bright sunny day (thankfully - not always a thing guaranteed by the mock Irish weather, even at this time of year) and Selina didn’t want anyone getting dehydrated or feeling like they had to choose between that and supporting their friends.
“Without further ado, I hereby declare the fair...OPEN!” she stated, pouring as much sense of occasion and a big, and genuine, smile into her words as slashed her wand across the ribbon, cutting it in two and allowing the students inside.
OOC - welcome to the charity fair! I have set this up like a class meaning anyone can reply directly. This means you can post about your booth and what it's doing, or post someone making their way around, investigating a particular booth or meeting up with a friend. Feel free to use any of the information provided at meetings or in people's intro posts to know what options your character has for things to do, or check with people in chatzy. If your post is at a partcular booth, please mention it in the subject line to help keep track.
Subthreads: Telling my story [McLeod Foundation] by Dorian Montoir with Vladimir Brockert
It's a-MAZE-ing [MFECA] by Peyton O'Malley with Evelyn Stones, Anya Delachene
Action for Boston Community Development: Craft Sale and Blanket Fort by Mab with Alexander Pierce-Beales
Helping the less fortunate [ABCD] by Esme Brockert
To the fair! by Sophia Priory with Johana Leonie Zauberhexen
Step right up! [AAAAAA] by Ruby Brockert with Gary Harper
This looks familiar [Ness] by Gary Harper with Ness McLeod
Everything's all right, perfectly normal [AAAAAA] by Bridget Ferguson with Zara Jackson
Preserving our history [Magical House and Garden Preservation Fund] by Caitlin Pierce with Valentine Duell
It's not a secret by Ellie Alperton with Freddie Zauberhexen
Fairly Charitable [Bringing Back the Light] by Heinrich Hexenmeister
A Piece of Culture [Socios de la Comunidad Mágica (Magical Community Partners)] by Leonor De Matteo
I'm here. by Quincy Wright
Please buy something [MHGPF] by Allegra Brockert with Stanley O'Malley
Missing the point by Beau Tate
This is a disaster by Osvaldo Alamilla
Watch out for sand fleas! [Bringing Back The Light] by Gabriel Wilson
A worthy cause [MHGPF] by Topaz Brockert with Philippe Delachene
Doing my duty [MFECA] by Sophia Priory with Valentine Duell
Stay hydrated by Jean Wolfe with Jezebel Reed-Fischer
Take a spin [AAAAAA] by Esme Brockert
13
Selina Skies
Charity Fair
26
1
5
Dorian Montoir
September 19, 2020 12:06 AM
Telling my story [McLeod Foundation] by Dorian Montoir
CW - contains descriptions of discrimination against the LGBTQIA+ community including homophobic violence. The relevant part of the post is italicised for easy skimming over.Dorian was going to be seeing rainbows forever… A thing which, he thought, he might not really mind. Still, they were such a prominent theme of their booth that he thought the colours might have permanently stamped themselves onto the back of his eyeballs by the time they were done setting up.
He wasn’t sure whether ‘fundraising’ versus ‘charity’ had ever been specified, and that most people had assumed the former was the only way of supporting that. If it was a requirement, their booth would be fulfilling it by selling home-baked goods, and various rainbow stock provided by the McLeod foundation, but it really wasn’t the focus. Education was. They could sell dozens of cupcakes or rainbow pins, and he was sure that money would help people who needed it, and that felt good. It also felt very abstract, and it didn’t feel like enough - not if he didn’t leave this school a better place. Not that it was terribly bad to start with. Sonora had long been his little sanctuary, the place that nurtured and protected him, whispering in his ear that it was okay to be himself until he believed it too. He supposed what he wanted was to turn that whisper into a voice. To take it out from behind closed doors, so that it was on everyone’s lips all the time. So that anyone coming into first year with just as little clue as he had had didn’t have to worry and wonder, because none of this was a secret.
That, he knew, was probably beyond his power. The rest of the gays had, it turned out, already thought about all this, and been doing it for quite a while. He probably wasn’t going to be the one to change the world overnight, even though when he saw his head boy badge gleaming next to his little rainbow flag pin, it almost felt like he might. Still, he could join a proud legacy - he could take his place as a voice which pushed for justice and fairness, for kindness and understanding. And he could start doing it here and now, in a place that he loved, so that it could do even better for the next scared little kid in his shoes.
The booth was something of a cross between a large and very open-plan living room, and an incredibly fancy picnic area, depending on whether you focussed on the fact that it was carpeted or the fact they were outside. Bright white latticework enclosed the space, a variety of informative posters attached to the inside, balloons and flags flying from its outside. ‘Inside’ the area was dotted with bean bags in all colours of the rainbow for people to sit on. They could read the posters, chat to volunteers, or read leaflets.
The posters covered everything from basic definitions to how and where to get help. One whole wall was titled ‘How to be a good ally - creating a supportive school.’ The information on this wall was bold, short statements, easily read at a glance, so that even without coming in, people could take away important lessons. ’Don’t use ‘gay’ as an insult. Ask for pronouns. Challenge other people’s attitudes. Don’t assume people are straight and cis. Believe people when they’re sure. Accept people when they’re unsure. Each of these had a more detailed explanation underneath, talking about why the behaviour was helpful, giving examples if needed. In the centre was a large piece of cardboard titled ‘I will always listen to and support the LGBTQIA+ students of Sonora.’ Bright colourful pens were stuck to the sides of the board, and any of the volunteers helping with set up had already been invited to sign their names. This, more than anything was what Dorian wanted people to take away from today. It had taken him so many years to convince himself that he was not alone. That the people who mattered to him would be on his side. Of course, it could backfire, if the board remained relatively empty, but his own experience bore out the theory that this school was full of far more love and tolerance than it was hatred…
There was a heavier side to the education too. The back wall of the area was sectioned off by white curtains. In front of the gap where they could be pulled back to enter, a small notice hovered in the air.
Content Warning:
This part of the display illustrates why the work we do is so necessary, even now. This display contains stories from members of the LGBTQIA+ community in contact with the McLeod Foundation and within this school. It documents the difficulties they have faced, and contains descriptions of discrimination, and verbal and physical abuse.
Inside were short stories, no more than a paragraph each – some only a sentence. Some with a name, many by ‘Anon,’ all with an age. The stories had been selected to be appropriate to the audience, both in terms of avoiding overly graphic detail, but also in the ages of those selected. Everyone who had a story to tell, whether it was of being kicked out by their parents, or being bullied, or facing institutional discrimination such as constant barriers to medication or the rights to use the correct bathroom – every one of them was within the same age range as the students of Sonora.
If people cared to read through all of them, or if their eyes were just good at picking out names, they would find, somewhere in the middle of the selection…
‘My brother and I never got on. He always thought I was ‘too girly.’ He would call me names and push me around, sometimes he’d even hit me. I tried not to believe him, or to hate myself but when I realised I liked other boys, it felt like everything he’d ever thought about me was right.
He walked in on me kissing my boyfriend last Christmas. He broke my nose and tried to put my head through the wall, telling me he’d rather I was dead than what I was. This was how I was also forced to confront the issue and come out to my parents.
I was lucky to have friends and teachers who took the thoughts he put in back out of my head, and who have always made sure I have someone to lean on.
Dorian Montoir, age 18.’
Back outside, Dorian sprawled on a yellow bean bag. The sun shone down and he smiled and waved people into the booth, looking the picture of confidence. It had been strange to write his story down, but mostly because of how hard it was to end it. It had been a moment in time – a deeply horrible moment, but that was it. There was no neat and tidy ending to it because it wasn’t the end of anything. It was a moment that had passed, and he had a whole bright and brilliant future which stretched out in spite of it – and because of all the other people who he had let be the ending of his poster, but the continuation of his story.
13
Dorian Montoir
Telling my story [McLeod Foundation]
1401
0
5
Vladimir Brockert
September 19, 2020 3:25 PM
How does the story end? by Vladimir Brockert
Vladimir picked Peyton’s booth. He didn’t really think he could give as much time to two as they each deserved, and Dorian’s was… well, just too hard, so he chose his cousin’s instead. Child abuse was also a decidedly worthy cause, obviously, so he tried not to feel too bad about it, and he offered Dorian help where he could, but he didn’t go to the meetings, and he wasn’t a public team member. He was too afraid to be.So he helped Peyton with her anti-child abuse petting zoo. It was much simpler, a front everyone - he would think - could unite on. Who didn’t like animals? And who was for child abuse? Only the perpetrators, probably. Vlad knew that there were things of that nature in his family’s recent memories, even if it wasn’t in his. But Aunt Jamie and her children from her first marriage had been through some things, and so had Ryan. Mama didn’t tell him details, but he knew that something bad had happened to them. It was something that needed to stop, and in the meantime, the victims needed their help.
He promised Dorian to come by his booth, though, so he stepped away from his own and made his way over, doing his best not to think about what little time they had left together. Their days at Sonora were drawing to a close. They were adults now, as far as legal age went, and they had new plans to make, new futures to follow through. And how much of the ending here was wasted - Vlad had been so distant this year. But how could he not be? Dorian knew why. He knew how much of him was hurting. There was a damaged ache that just refused to mend. Vlad had loved him last summer, and damn it if he didn’t still love him just as much now. The younger Teppenpaw wished it wasn’t true, but even now, he was completely in love with his best friend.
The booth was nice and felt very cozy and welcoming, an intentional design to be sure. He passed slowly by the reading material and stumbled upon the section that came with a content warning. Vlad wasn’t sure he really wanted to go in, but the drop in his stomach somehow compelled him, and he entered.
Vladimir read every single bulletin, every posted story. But it was one in particular that did him in: Dorian’s. His struggles with Matthieu, with his family… It just broke him. Dorian was gay, and Vlad was gay, and while Mama had been nothing but kind, who knew what their futures looked like. How often would this cycle repeat?
And there, in front of anyone else who might be touring, he finally reached his breaking point, and he burst into tears.
12
Vladimir Brockert
How does the story end?
1400
0
5
Dorian Montoir
September 20, 2020 3:14 AM
To be determined... by Dorian Montoir
Vlad had come! Dorian couldn't deny how deeply happy that fact made him. Vlad had chosen not to volunteer for his booth, and he understood there were probably multiple reasons why. Still, this year it had felt like his roommate was, as much as possible given that status, pushing him out. It made him fearful for what was going to happen next, once there weren't four bright and cheerful yellow walls compelling Vlad to continue acknowledging his existence. But now Vlad was here, seeking him out and supporting him voluntarily. Or coming to learn more about himself, which Dorian thought might do him good. He hated that Vlad's felt like he had to struggle through this alone, when someone who was ready and willing to help him was only an arm's reach away.He found himself holding his breath as Vlad ducked into the less than pleasant side of the booth. It wasn't like he was learning anything he didn't know already about Dorian, though he was pretty sure the impact of that section for anyone queer was overwhelming horribleness. It had been pretty draining reading over the posters and putting them up... He watched the curtain anxiously, wondering - as had been the constant theme of the year - whether he should get involved or just leave Vlad be. He did, he reasoned, have responsibilities as booth co-ordinator, to check that people were okay, and to encourage them to talk... And Vlad had chosen to come, which meant something.
Dorian crossed to the curtain, pulling it back slightly to try and gague how Vlad was doing, and whether he wanted company, and saw immediately that he was crying.
"Hey," Dorian said gently, hurrying over to Vlad, wanting to automatically envelop him in a hug. Because he was crying.. Any established new normal of distance was right out because this was an emergency. He swished his wand so that the content warning notice outside changed to 'PLEASE WAIT.' They had discussed how to handle people having Feelings about this part of the exhibit. They had discussed useful and not useful things to say, and the limits of what to talk about and when to defer to adults for help. Those stirred sleepily in his brain, crashed over by the instinctive reactions that said just wanted to act because this was not some stranger ready to receive well-rehearsed lines, this was Vlad. But then, once the impulse to put his arms around him had been satisfied, the logical part of his brain said that he wanted to say the right thing. The impulse to treat Vlad as Vlad was only the heartbreaking urgency of it being personal, not actually a different set of actions. Perhaps a little more intimacy than he would have allowed himself with anyone else, but the rolling force of emotion allowed itself to be put aside, with deep, calming breaths, as he tried to think through everything he had learnt about how to support someone else.
His first impulse was to 'shh' but he fought it back. He didn't want Vlad to shh, he wanted the opposite. He wanted to soothe though. He wanted to tell Vlad it was alright, but clearly right now, it very much wasn't.
"It's going to be okay," he told him, the one thing he knew he was allowed to promise and which, after a very long time in the dark, he was finally starting to believe the truth of. Yes, it hurt sometimes, and no one could promise when that would stop, or that it would never happen again. But if you kept going, it would get better. "Talk to me," he... suggested? Requested? Demanded? His tone was gentle, but really it was all three. It clearly didn't work for Vlad to just shut him down and shut him out, and he really wished he had taken any other option but the hard way.
13
Dorian Montoir
To be determined...
1401
0
5
Vladimir Brockert
September 20, 2020 6:10 AM
I wish I could just skip ahead by Vladimir Brockert
Dorian.Of course.
Vlad almost smiled, despite himself. Of course Dorian would appear now. Of course the only person he wanted and the only person he couldn’t bear to see would show up now, ready and willing to just wrap him up and try to make everything better. But it wasn’t better. And in fact, Vlad was crying about Dorian. Nothing could ever just be easy anymore, could it? Everything was so hard. So despite the initial inclination to smile, Vlad just cried harder.
His feelings were all such a mushy mess right now that it did him no good to make any attempt to dodge physicality. Vlad just let Dorian hug him, the first warmth of its kind in so long he couldn’t remember. He chose the comfort over the discomfort and let Dorian hold him, trying and failing to block out all the reasons he had been avoiding this type of contact for so long. At this moment, it didn’t bother him so deeply. He was already overflowing.
He appreciated Dorian’s sentiments, but Vlad couldn’t help but immediately disagree. “It’s not going to be okay,” he replied, not quite shouting but decidedly firmer than his usual Vlad-style. “It’s going to be over.” His shaking chest forced him to pause briefly. “Dorian, we’re leaving and we aren’t coming back this time. And there’s so much, just… unresolved. It’s all broken and I can’t fix it this time. We’re losing this place and everything we know, and I won’t get to see you anymore. I know you’ll miss me too, and that’s easy to say, but you’ll have him and it’s not the same. I’m losing you. I’m… I’m just losing.”
His head drooped, exhausted. Once again, he was certain to have said the wrong thing, and far too much of it. But time was of the essence, and Vlad was losing control exponentially now. Only Dorian and Mama knew that Vlad was like everyone else whose stories hung before them, and it was a weight he thought he’d have to bear forever now. With that topped off by the pressure he felt to be around Dorian and being isolated from his mom, it was all just too much.
12
Vladimir Brockert
I wish I could just skip ahead
1400
0
5
Dorian Montoir
September 25, 2020 6:21 AM
The other chapters matter by Dorian Montoir
Dorian was supposed to know the answers. He was supposed to be calm, and collected. It was his booth. He was head boy. He was out… But his firm truth had just been rejected by Vlad. He supposed that wasn’t totally unexpected. He thought he might have done the same – at the very least, he certainly hadn’t immediately believed that anyone assuring him of how it would all be okay had properly grasped the complexity of the problem. He thought he had clung to the promise like a life line instead of denying it though. But it wasn’t just Vlad’s rejection of the light at the end of the tunnel that had him reeling. They were leaving. This wasn’t news, of course. It wasn’t like the thoughts of their impending graduation hadn’t been constantly sending him off kilter all year… But it was no easier to his own thoughts echoed back to him than it was to listen as they did laps of sleepless brain of a night. He was terrified. And for more or less the reason Vlad had just stated.I won’t get to see you any more.
Dorian forced himself to think very carefully about each and every English word in that sentence, even as he felt his own eyes overflowing, his own heart racing in panic. It sounded, on the surface of it, like Vlad was confirming what Dorian had been feeling all year – that Vlad was going to keep pushing him further and further away, until he could close the door on him completely. He’d already, effectively, done it once. Mrs. Brockert had made it clear that Dorian was welcome. She had half extended the invite to Jean-Loup, even. Whilst he hadn’t quite been given permission to be there if he needed to be the way that Dorian had, she’d said she would love to meet him. And maybe it would never have come to anything. Maybe Jean-Loup’s lack of a place to go would have always been Dorian’s problem too, because of course they were in this together, of course he wanted to see him – but when Dorian hadn’t been able to go home, he’d been forced to rule out that offer because he didn’t think Vlad wanted him any closer than he had to have him. Because Vlad wanted a break from him, when he could get one. And now it felt like he was threatening to make that break permanent.
Except Vlad was crying over it, like it was totally out of his control. Vlad had said ‘get to’ not ‘have to.’
“You’re the one who holds the cards,” he told Vlad, his own voice thick with emotion. “I would never cut you out of my life,” he stated, straightening up because he felt self-conscious holding Vlad as he was reminded of the very real fact that he didn’t seem to be wanted. “I’ve been trying and trying to talk to you because yes, I know we’re leaving. It sucks. It scares me too,” he stated, tears streaking his own cheeks, because how dare Vlad not think that Dorian was in danger of losing things here? He’d been at home here when he hadn’t been able to feel that anywhere else. And now it was all going away. And he’d already had his friend push him out once, when it mattered to both of them. “Are you saying you won’t see me- you will refuse?” he asked the question that had been plaguing him all term. The one that, from what Vlad was saying, sounded like it had a definite ‘no’ as the answer – but from how he’d been behaving could only seem like a ‘yes.’
13
Dorian Montoir
The other chapters matter
1401
0
5
Vladimir Brockert
September 26, 2020 8:28 AM
The plot's off the rails. by Vladimir Brockert
To pour out his soul, whether it was for better or for worse, just to be misunderstood was so frustrating that Vlad almost wanted to scream. But English wasn’t Dorian’s first language, and they were both in distress, and also, Vlad was sick of yelling. He felt like he’d snapped too many times in the last year, especially at Dorian, who had done nothing to earn it. Still he felt angry, though, and wanted to scream frequently. He just wasn’t the person to let it out - he wasn’t afraid of loud sounds, but he hated making them himself, hated the way his vocal cords burned - but it was absolutely eating him to keep it all in. Yet when he tried to get it out, it always came out wrong. Vladimir was always wrong anymore and it was exhausting.He took a deep breath. “Of course I wouldn’t refuse,” Vlad answered, finding himself somewhere in the middle - his frustration and his sensitivity were both detectable, but they melted somewhere into one another, almost like they were the same. That thought alarmed him, but he pressed on. “Dorian, you don’t need me anymore. You’ll be happily off with him” - he couldn’t bring himself to say Jean-Loup’s name - “and I’ll be somewhere else, far away, and you won’t need to seek me out because you’ll be happy without me. I know I’ve wasted our last year here, but it’s just been so hard. I’ve never had these feelings before and it’s so confusing and frustrating, and I don’t know what to do. Maybe because there’s just nothing to do, and that’s the worst part. I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop being in love with you.”
Somewhere in there, his tears had dissipated, stilted by the honesty he poured instead. “I know you wouldn’t actively cut me out, but… it’s just inevitable, isn’t it?”
12
Vladimir Brockert
The plot's off the rails.
1400
0
5
Dorian Montoir
September 27, 2020 7:53 AM
I think it has been since day one by Dorian Montoir
"I need you."It had been a challenge to hold back the words which had wanted to burst out of him the second Vlad had spoken. He had forced himself to wait, to hear Vlad out, but that remained the most important point.
"I need you, and I want you, and no, I will not be calm and happy and contented without you," he answered, his breath hitching around his tears but his voice clear and confident on all of those absolutely indisputable facts.
He reached out, stroking a few stray tears from Vlad's cheek, trying to understand... He knew that feelings and secrets and pressure could make you see things that weren't there. He had often taken that to be a symptom of his own slightly screwed up tendency to overthink. He wasn't sure, therefore, whether to take this as evidence that everyone else felt like that sometimes too, or whether it indicated he had done something wrong, something to break Vlad. To make Vlad feel sad and lonely and abandoned. Besides the obvious thing of dating Jean-Loup... He knew Vlad wasn't happy about that but there was a difference between unhappy and what was in front of him right now.
"I'm sorry," he stated softly. He had always apologised a lot. He had spent half of his life apologising without knowing why, apologising for even existing... He had, with effort, broken those habits, and he didn't want to get back into them now, so he clarified with the solid things that he could, right now, be sorry for. "I'm sorry if anything I have done has made you feel abandoned, or made you feel like I wouldn't want you in my life. I do. I absolutely do. Forever."
He considered Vlad’s other point. He thought about the world beyond the curtain, the world represented in all the little stories around them. There was also the fact that he couldn’t imagine Vlad wanting to be around Jean-Loup, but that was more on the side of Vlad cutting him out than the inevitably of Dorian leaving him, and he wanted to focus on that, at least to start with. He didn’t want to lie and say it would be simple, even though he felt like it should be, if the world had had any proper order to it. It felt even somewhat strange to argue so hard against the thing he’d been fearing and believing for months. But he’d always believed in his friends more.
He took a deep breath, taking a seat on the floor, nodding to Vlad to indicate that he was welcome to join him. His back was against the drape that made the back wall, the lattice beyond it just about touching and providing a fragile support. He looked to the closed gap in the curtains, imagining the world outside.
“I will always want my friends,” he reconfirmed, “I have come too close to losing too many people already. I-I just can’t imagine-” he explained, his composure threatening to crumble again at the thought of giving any of them up. “It isn’t going to be the same,” he admitted tearfully. “But do you imagine… You imagine Tatya, going off and her life meaning that she never sees us?” he asked, trying to stick to examples that were less complicated. But even if they saw her, even if they saw each other, it wasn’t the same… He wasn’t sure where between those two extremes Vlad wanted their lives to lie - there were so many things between things staying exactly as they were (impossible) and never being part of each other’s lives again (equally so). And he had no idea which ones would be satisfactory to Vlad. He had no real idea what Vlad wanted. Vlad had told him, twice now, that he was in love with him, but his own reaction to that seemed to be to push Dorian to arm’s length, or further if he could.
“My life’s going to look a bit like this, I suppose,” he nodded to the world beyond the curtain. He was certainly hoping to leave what was in here behind. “I’ve gone too far to go back and I don’t really want to. And so, I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing you and Tatya as much at parties as I once did,” he admitted, searching Vlad’s face for a sign he was mad about that. Yes, Dorian had made decisions which had consequences which affected their friendship. And that sucked, and he hated it. He found he wasn’t inclined to apologise for it though. It wasn’t something he regretted, nor saw as his fault. “I’m not going to be part of that world, and that’s fine with me. I can’t keep wondering who in the room knows and hates me for it, who I’m still a secret from - and they never liked my non-white face all that much anyway, you know,” he added. In so many ways it was a relief to close those doors. There was only one small thing he wanted to take from them... “I never really cared about the parties. I cared about a few special people at them but… But I would be excited to see you at a party because you would be its saving grace. I’m just as happy to see you when we’re eating lunch, or doing nothing, or going-” going to sleep. Maybe not the best example. Because that would be changing. He thought about the nights he’d spent in Greece over Christmas, falling asleep in Jean-Loup’s arms. It had been… different. It had been temporary though. He had known he would be back at school at the end of it.
“What do you want it to be like?” he asked. “For real.” Because he didn’t mean in an ideal world. In an ideal world they would stay here forever, or no one would care who anyone loved. Those things were easy to say, but they did nothing to help, because they didn’t live in an ideal world. They lived in this one. And they were going to have to decide what to make of it, and where to fit into it.
13
Dorian Montoir
I think it has been since day one
1401
0
5
Vladimir Brockert
October 09, 2020 9:49 AM
Let's go back to the start and check. by Vladimir Brockert
“I need you.”It wasn’t I love you, but it was close. Vlad felt his heart skip a beat, palpitating in rhythm with the waves in his stomach. He had thought long and hard on whether it was better to be needed or wanted in life, and he hadn’t yet come to a conclusion, but somehow this scooted him a little closer to a decision. To be needed felt so urgent, so important. Dorian couldn’t live without him? Why? He couldn’t stall that thought. Why did Dorian care so much about him, but not want Vlad the same way Vlad wanted him?
And that was so frustrating. He knew that Dorian wanted him in his life, really, but the younger boy wanted so much more. He had always found the phrase “just friends” as oversimplified and sort of demeaning to the value of friendship, but dang it he didn’t want something other than friendship from Dorian. He wanted everything. His friendship, his company, his patience, his… his love.
That was what it boiled down to, he supposed. Dorian asked him what he wanted it to be, and Vladimir just wanted everything. “I want to be at the parties,” he said, “but I want you there too. I want you to go with me. My parents… my parents wouldn’t care. My mom knows, and she doesn’t care. And everybody else…. Well, I don’t… I don’t know,” he admitted nervously. “Maybe that’s selfish of me. I’m not usually so self-absorbed. But I can’t see it any other way. I can’t picture my life without you. I don’t know what happens after we graduate, but I just… I want you there.”
12
Vladimir Brockert
Let's go back to the start and check.
1400
0
5
Dorian Montoir
October 11, 2020 8:56 PM
Day one, I met someone at orientation and this whole thing went off the rails by Dorian Montoir
“Your mom knows?” Dorian repeated quietly, searching Vlad’s face for confirmation that what he was saying was really what he was saying. “About the general idea or… about you? About you, um, liking me-” it felt so, so weird to acknowledge that out loud, like he was still somehow being incredibly egotistical to assume that could possibly be the case even when Vlad had flat out told him that he was in love with him. Twice. “And she’d still let me come over?” he checked. He still wasn’t sure that Vlad wasn’t going to slam that door in his face, or at least want some space from him - something he could see was fair, even if it hurt and made his own life more frightening and complicated than it might otherwise have been. But he hadn’t been able to imagine being under the Brockerts’ roof and living with the fear, yet again, that there was something to be Found Out. That once it was, everything could get destabilised. That he could get rejected and kicked out all over again.“I want you there too,” he stated, focussing on the parts they agreed on, and wishing that Vlad would just come sit down and wrap his arms around him so he knew it was true that neither of them was going anywhere. As for the rest of what Vlad had said… It was complicated. He didn’t think it was possible. And he couldn’t decide whether Vlad was being braver than him, wanting to face the world and try to force it to change, or more naive. The thought of being in society had always come, in his head, with the burden of being a secret, and that was a weight that had become so stifling that he knew he couldn’t bear it. He had chosen to run as hard as he could towards a world that promised more freedom. But that was still running. He tried to picture Vlad’s version, them in each other’s arms twirling through the society balls. But if that had been remotely possible, he wouldn’t have had half the problems he had done.
“I don’t think you’re selfish not to want to lose anything that’s important to you,” he answered. “But they won’t let us,” he told Vlad as gently as he could. “We’d constantly have to deal with… With Merlin knows what. With all this,” he gestured to the walls around them. “I’d have to worry every single time we went anywhere about what someone might do to you for- for being in love with me.” He said it very quietly. He took a deep breath, trying to work out how he himself would answer the question he had posed Vlad. The world outside suggested he was ready to take it all on, and to fight anyone who didn’t believe in equality for people like them. But that had been a lot easier to get behind as the idea of fighting the faceless evil of politics and structures and ideas. It was easy to say he wanted to go Pride and to wave his flag there. The thought of stepping into a room of all the kinds of people who had made him miserable and just deciding they had to be freaking okay with it... “Some days I feel like I want to go out and turn the whole world upside down. But mostly, I just want to curl up in a little ball, and be in constant touching distance of the people I can trust, and to stop worrying that I’m about to lose them,” he admitted.
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Dorian Montoir
Day one, I met someone at orientation and this whole thing went off the rails
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Vladimir Brockert
October 12, 2020 4:45 PM
Wait, tell it slower. by Vladimir Brockert
If he hadn’t known about what Dorian had been through over the last few years, Vladimir might have not understood Dorian’s reaction to Lilac Brockert knowing. Dorian and his mother had always seemed close, but she didn’t quite seem to accept her son. Not like Mama did. “About everything. She knew before I did,” Vlad admitted with the hint of a laugh. Mama was good like that. “She doesn’t mind at all. Actually, she likes you a lot. Nothing I’ve said or felt has changed that.”In a lot of ways, he knew how lucky he was. This very room was full of tragic stories, of “coming out” as they called it, just to face a new reality where yes, they were their authentic selves, but now they had to do it alone. Vlad wasn’t sure what was worse, honestly. To be loved dishonestly or truthfully alone. The split in Dorian’s family was a worst case scenario, and one that Vladimir would never face. Maybe some of his more elite relatives would reject him, if they knew - Grandmama’s head would probably spin around, he thought - but he was safe where it counted. Mama loved him, and he thought his dad would be okay with it too. He had almost told Ivy a couple times now, but he thought he would over the summer maybe. Likewise Tatiana. Maybe Peyton. But he didn’t want everyone at Sonora knowing, like Dorian had done. Dorian was braver than Vlad was.
Dorian said people wouldn’t let them live the way Vlad described, but while a part of him disagreed, he didn’t argue. It wasn’t the point right now. But Vladimir had a naive hope that lived on somehow, despite his age and despite his heartache and despite all the reasons the world told him to grow up, and he just had to believe that everything would be okay.
At the end of the day, they were in agreement: no one wanted to lose anyone, and everyone was scared of the change and the world that might not accept them. Vlad wanted to say something, to offer Dorian comfort, but his words were hollow and his mouth was empty. All he had left was action. He stepped closer and pulled Dorian close again. “I’m sorry,” he said, nearly a whisper. “That’s all I want too. I’m so sorry.”
12
Vladimir Brockert
Wait, tell it slower.
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