The Road to Normal Is a Mirage
PatPran - Bad Buddy: What if Pat had figured out his feelings in high school first?
They’re standing in the empty music room, the muted sounds of students leaving their after school clubs coming from from the corridors beyond, but Pran can barely register them. He’s too shaken, eyes fixed on the boy in front of him, too tall now to look in the eye without tilting his head slightly. Pran’s whole body is frozen, and he’s waiting for the punchline, but apparently there isn’t one. There isn’t one because this isn't a joke. Pat likes him. He just confessed. And now he's waiting for an answer.
What the fuck is he expecting Pran to say?
Pran's only just got used to the idea that they might be friends! Now Pat goes and does this? Pran's never been confessed to before. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to hurt Pat's feelings, but he can’t just accept him. He's never even considered Pat that way…
Swallowing, he sticks his hands in his pockets to stop from fidgeting.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't like you like that." The words tumble out of him and Pat's hopeful expression falls with them.
Pran feels like an asshole and it's not even his fault! Pat was the one that put him in this crazy position. Did he think Pran really might like him back? Has Pran given him that impression? Has he been flirting without even realising he was doing it?
"It's ok." Pat smiles and shrugs.
Pat leaves first and Pran sits down on a table, mind flooding with questions. The why, the when, the what, the where, the how, all slamming through him, more and more, until he's drowning in them. He shakes his head like it'll make them spill back out, but they just circle round until he’s nauseous instead.
He checks his watch, the watch Pat had brought back to him, and his mind gets stuck on that for a second before he remembers he's supposed to be reading the time. His parents are going to worry if he's not home soon. He stands up and starts walking.
The world is a quantum realm of shapes and sounds, existing on the periphery of his attention, distorted by the size of the main attraction. He’s almost run over by a cyclist because he doesn't register the bell ringing. He almost trips first face into the road because he doesn’t register the curb drop. He almost smacks into a lamppost because he has to dodge a couple last minute and doesn’t register what’s beside him until he moves. He gets home purely from muscle memory. He goes straight to his room, telling his parents he has homework but freezes at the sight of Pat's bedroom through his window. He all but runs over to close the opaque netting, though whether it's to stop himself looking out or Pat looking in, he's not sure.
As he turns he spots himself in his mirror and is drawn to it almost involuntarily. He takes in his reflection, studying every detail.
The thought feels extraordinary.
What part does Pat like the most?
The thought feels revolutionary.
What would have happened if I'd told Pat I liked him back?
The thought feels incendiary.
Pran stares at his reflection. Why would he even think that? What does it matter what would’ve happened? Why does he want to know? Why does he want to know if Pat would have kissed him? Why isn't the thought of that making him feel disgusted?
Frantically, he tries to imagine kissing all his friends, kissing every single other person in their class. None of them make him feel the way that the thought of kissing Pat does.
Nervous. He is just nervous. Nervous that Pat might try it. And excited. No. Why is he excited? Unless...
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