Xavin & JPB | Friday Afternoon

[xp-northstar.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul has a fan he didn't know about and Xavin winds up starting a conversation that neither of them are particularly expecting.

Warning: Slurs related to sexual orientation used. Also, (potentially) internalized homophobia, depending on how you read things.


The kitchen was deserted except for Jean-Paul. Which was good, because fighting past all the adults to make a Saturday morning sandwich was a pain but - awkward. So much awkward. Stupid shared kitchen. And yeah, Jean-Paul was in Generation X too but that didn't mean much, since it wasn't like you really had much to do with the adults in Generation X other than the occasional thing and mostly Xavin was too busy not murdering Illyana or Maya or Quire then and, yeah, totally not staring, totally being cool. "Hey, uh, you busy?"

Glancing up, Jean-Paul quirked a brow. "No," he said, going back to poking listlessly at his chicken and vegetables. What he wouldn't give for a potato. Or six. "I hope you were not wanting this chicken." He interacted with the other Gen-X people on the journals, but so many of them were children and so many of the adults were... well. Whatever it was they were, Jean-Paul was not that. So he spent a fair bit of his time not doing very much.

The chicken looked surprisingly tasty. "No. I wanted a sandwich but... is there any left? I could have a chicken sandwich."

Jean-Paul eyed the chicken on his plate, then shrugged and said, "Here, please eat this. I will eat the vegetables."

Awwwkward! "Um. Thanks," Xavin mumbled and took the chicken, cutting it into a couple of slightly smaller pieces and sticking it between two slices of bread with some mayo. I stalked you like a total creeper on google last night. Nope. Not saying that. "So, I have to ask - do you have to put up with the same roommate stuff as the rest of us, since you're in the adult suites?"

Snorting softly, Jean-Paul shook his head. "They did not tell me I would have a roommate. And then she appeared through the wall. And she is odd sometimes, but it is not bad. I think there is always 'roommate stuff,' as you say, if you have a roommate." Then he shrugged and said, "Your roommate has... stuff?" He wasn't entirely sure why he was asking, but he was bored and that was generally all the justification he needed for himself.

Through the wall. Of course. Xavin shrugged. "I share a room with Maya and Illyana is in the other room in the suite. You tell me."

"Ah, the angry one," Jean-Paul said, nodding. "I do not know this Illyana. The angry one seems pointlessly angry." He shrugged, though, making it obvious that he didn't truly care one way or the other. A young girl's anger was not something he felt the need to explore outright. Its causes and the ways one might fix it were a mystery to him. Then he quirked a rueful smile. "I am sorry you have so much roommate stuff."

"Illyana is ... Illyana. I think she's like, a crazy person or something? I don't know. She's a bit weird." Xavin shrugged and took a bite of the sandwich. "But it could be worse. They could be totally awful about the fact that I'm all... maybe kinda gay or something? I mean, Rahne is pretty religious."

Jean-Paul smiled again at that. "This place, it does not seem like the people here would be so judgmental about someone's sexuality. At least, they have not been toward me. Perhaps it would be different with the younger people, I do not know. But it is good that they are not being awful, oui?"

Xavin gave a tight nod, the reality of what had just been said sinking in. "Yeah, it is." The teen took another bite of the sandwich and put it down, shredding part of the crust. "They wouldn't be awful to you, though. You're famous. You're not..."

Shaking his head, Jean-Paul said, "Fame, it does not keep people from being..." He paused, then shrugged and continued, "It does not stop them when they want very much to be awful. I am very loud, though." He offered Xavin a smile. "If you cannot stop someone from being awful, then you must tell the world that they are awful. It makes them stop, at least for a little while."

He pulled his phone from his pocket and laid it flat on the counter before pulling up his Twitter app. "These," he said, pushing the phone around for Xavin to see. "These are the very awful comments I have not blocked yet, oui?"

Xavin sighed, eyes closed for a moment. "Yeah, that was stupid of me. I get it. I know people are terrible on the internet and in real life." The teen looked away for a moment, and Xavin's edges blurred, just for a moment, an instantaneous shift - boy - girl - boy again. "Do you ever want your real life back?"

Locking his mobile again, Jean-Paul pocketed it and stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork. He hummed as he considered the question. "I do not know. Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. It would be nice to... not have people say awful things about me but I love what I do." Then he frowned. "What I did, I suppose. I love skiing. I love competing. And I would not have those things if I had my 'real' life."

"I misspoke," Xavin replied. "I guess - not your real real life, because I guess this is our lives now but - I'd be at the mall or watching TV with my friends or ... sometimes I just miss my old life and my family and everything, you know?"

"There is nothing wrong with this," Jean-Paul said, brows rising. "It is, as they say, normal to miss things? Though I think... perhaps try to find things here to help. It is..." He paused and frowned, eating his piece of broccoli before wiggling his hand back and forth. "It will never be as it was, oui? But it can still be good." He quirked a rueful smile. "I am trying to do this for myself, also."

Xavin sighed, hands blurring again in an effort to not shift. "It's not bad here, no, and it could be so much worse. I mean, if they hadn't brought me here I'd have ... anyway! I just - I wish things were easier."

"Oui," Jean-Paul said, nodding. "This I understand very well."

"No you don't," Xavin muttered and then, "Uh, sorry."

Jean-Paul hummed. "No, I do not understand your situation, the change that you have. But wanting things to be easier... oui, this I understand." Then he quirked a smile. "I think it is easier for me, though. I simply tell everyone to fuck off and if they do not I make them uncomfortable with shows of very public affection."

Xavin gave a bitter half laugh. "Maybe I'll be able to do that once I turn 18. I have to keep my head down till then, you know?"

"But here," Jean-Paul says, gesturing toward the kitchen at large in an effort to encompass the mansion as a whole. "Here, it is simple to tell them to fuck off."

Xavin shrugged and shifted - girl now, not boy. "Easier said than done. People don't like... this, remember, even in the mansion."

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Jean-Paul asked, "Someone has been rude to you because of this?"

Xavin was silent for a moment. "Not rude exactly but definitely not ... okay with it."

Putting his fork down, Jean-Paul asked, "Who?"

"Oh my god! No one here, okay - people here are uncomfortable but no-one will say anything. You know that, but yeah - at school, where I'm -- " Xavin shifted - boy again - "like this all day? A bunch of them. I thought ... boy would be easier to manage all day than staying in girl shape and it is but..." Xavin trailed off. "But they know something isn't right."

"Pah," Jean-Paul picked his fork up again and continued eating his broccoli. "People will always find something that is not right. Punch them. Kiss someone unexpected. Kiss two unexpected people at the same time. Give them an answer that is half correct, partly correct, and they will assume they know the whole truth."

Hah. "It's hard, though, okay?"

"Oui, yes. We have said this," Jean-Paul said. "It is only, I thought I would have to yell at someone here and I was not looking forward to that so much."

"You don't need to do that. I can look after myself, including with the soccer team, okay?" Xavin held up a hand. "The senior soccer team are real sports bros. They're dicks."

Jean-Paul smirked. "At least four of them are gay. One will love women's shoes. They overcompensate." Then he shrugged and said, "I know if is difficult, but try giving them nothing, yes? No reaction and they will not get... I do not know, whatever it is they think they are getting by being dicks, as you say."

"Ignore them because some of them might be gay? Real helpful." Xavin gave a headshake and stood, sandwich finished. "I gotta go, okay?"

Frowning, Jean-Paul shook his head. "This is not what I meant. Only that there is something 'not right' with many people. You are very conscious of what you think is not right with yourself. This brings it to the attention of others. There is..." He frowned, unsure how to say what he wanted to say without making it seem insulting. "Confidence, oui? You do not show it, but others do. You make it obvious that you care what these people say, that it bothers you. And so you become a target because they know they will get a... a reaction, oui? They are not better than you, they are only better at hiding, at blending in."

"How am I supposed to not care? I slip up a little bit and I'm a fag. I slip up a lot - and I do - I can't control this yet - and I'm a mutant and a target. And you know? I want this to not be a thing. I want to not be a mutant and not be maybe gay or queer or something and I want to go back to knowing that girls are girls and boys are boys and none of this and sometimes I just want to go home but I can't. I just have to get better at hiding, at blending in."

"This," Jean-Paul said, frowning as he gestured toward Xavin with his fork. "This is the problem you have. You. You think there is something wrong with being a fag and queer and a mutant. Until you think this is not so, until you are comfortable with yourself, you cannot think others will be comfortable with you. Because I - I would sympathize with you, but for the fact that what you have said implies that there is something wrong with me because I am a fag, I am queer, I am a mutant." Then he shrugged. "And I do not care that you think this, but it does not make me wish to help you. Or to talk to you more."

"I didn't mean - I'm sorry, I just - " Xavin stood. "It's not wrong but life would be easier if I wasn't. I'd still be me without any of this stuff. I'd still have my family."

"There is a thing," Jean-Paul says, polishing off his broccoli. "It is called found family, oui? Sometimes, it is better than what you had because they do not expect you to be other than you are." He shrugged again. "But if you are so busy thinking of the things you can no longer have because of these things you cannot change, then you will miss the things that are very good about this place and these people here. This is your decision."