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It was like any other Practice Day for me. My “talented” self heads over to the locker room for another game practice that I’m expected to be at. Thankfully I remembered to write those important dates on my calendar this time, better than getting hunted down by the prefects again without knowing why.
If I remember correctly we have some basketball practice happening in the gym. They know it’s me under the mask but I’d still like to be alone with myself right now as I enter into the pool house. The pool remains empty due to some funding that had to cut swimming off of Bullworth’s sports. Something that happened before I had to go here, no idea why it still hasn’t been repurposed.
Heard about it during one of Crabblesnitch’s repetitive monologues about this hellhole when he first told me about the mascot role. He thought it would “help me realize how magnificent the school truly is.” Then he muttered something about how it would be something to do instead of being so negative about this place.
I’ve made my way to the locker room as a mix of basketballs thumping off the floor and net arise along with bits of the jocks shouting about whatever. Disregarding the noise in the other room I’m immediately hit with such filthy fumes that coat the whole room, do they even know deodorant exits? It’s obvious they know about showers as theres obviously a used shower stall.
Changing out of the atrocious dark teal Bullworth sweater and black tie, tan trousers, and black loafers in the unused shower stall Im glad to be rid of the overly formal attire.
What I wouldn’t give for a band shirt and shorts.
I try to prepare myself for yet another performance. I know I still like- well… love the job but it can be such a drag, once I part away the curtain I step out in my white shirt, grey boxers, and long white socks that were all previously worn underneath that dreadful school uniform.
The locker to the mascot locker is opened as I still remember that combination code, I hold onto the arm as it drags along the neatly folded bodysuit and and the other parts of the costume come spilling out onto the ground. Unfortunately the zipper’s still stuck, the zip still holding it all together at the top somehow as if it’s black magic, of course it’s trapped at the top, can’t let a crack of air in of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be boiling underneath the murky mask and costume.
Due to my Short Gut Syndrome I’m skinny enough to fit through the butt flap despite how it gets a bit tricky buttoning it back on once I’m in the bodysuit as I try to find those stupid buttons. The brown boots’ laces are tied expertly as the brown gloves slide on with ease as they swallow the hands and covered forearms. Trapping them in what always reminds me of oven mitts.
Now comes the last part, the slightly heavy headpiece is finally worn as I remember how the first time I wore this during tryouts it felt as if I was wearing a see saw on my head, leaning left one moment and then immediately the right after a few seconds.
Still can’t believe I got the role! Both in a good and a bad way of meaning that such as on a shitty day like this, when I have to go to practice and I haven’t had food yet and get really pissy while having to deal with the jocks using me as punching bag emotionally and physically. Sometimes more physically, may be more viscous today cause they’re starving too I bet. Least I’m not the only one suffering I guess.
The maw slightly adjusts for me to be able to see bits of the outside world through the mouth’s teeth kind of, whenever I widen the maw I get all my senses back as if I unmasked. Handy, makes getting fresh air and drinking Beam much more easier despite still melting while wearing the mask. Despite the merciful opening in the mask I mostly focus on the two small nose-holes that show a bit of the outside world when I’m performing even though nobody gives a shit.
It’s not like there’s little kids that are in awe of some idiot doing stupid dances, no one really feels any magic, just an acknowledgment that I’m there as I try to enjoy myself from this. Being able to be a goofball without any pushback? Yes please! Especially since I get to skip classes now, as long as I’m there for practice during whichever time they need me. Granted I didn’t expect how hot it could get inside the outfit. Doesn’t help that I’m not even given a drink either, apparently the spots cooler is for real stars. Costs a bit of money to get some Beam from the vending machine, I don’t wanna over do it though. Wanna save up. Sometimes I’ll even drink from their cooler when I REALLY need to. So far they haven’t caught me yet.
As I prepare for today I try to get in the zone, try to get myself pumped up. Imagining Green Day’s Holiday coursing through me as my limbs take command. Uncontrollably moving to the lyrics that I’m able to remember, the background music carrying an anthem of badass-ery telling me that I’m so much more than what others see me as. That I’m alive and not an empty husk with no emotions.
The yearning to be seen and heard by people, the constant chasing of needing to be liked. Despite how I know I shouldn’t spend time with asswipes I just have no choice. These assholes in the school are the only people I know, each time I’m out and about for interviewing specific people for the paper. That fresh wave of being talked to, not ignored by yet another fucking passerby. The attention I get when interviewing, it means I’m noticed. That I’m being recognized as a person who is alive and not just lesser than. Almost inhumane if anything. That I’m not being buzzed off as if I’m a freak!
There it is, that rage. Hold onto it. Understand how much of it I carry everyday. The yearning to be liked by someone, the need to feel understood and accepted. Focus on that nagging voice in my head always criticizing me no matter what.
And now release. Release it all. Free myself. Focusing on it all from the breath in, and now that I’ve paid attention breath out. Let the understanding wash over me as I feel some bit of self love. Knowing that I really am beautiful. That it’s enough that it’s me only seeing it.
I deserve to love myself.
My eyes are now closed as I soak in the moment. The glorious serenity calming me. Keeping me from losing my shit. I’m ok. I’m safe. I will have fun.
Of course this outfit immediately starts getting me to melt. The heat coursing inside as it thrives under my tamed and cool mindset. The immediate clasp against that mask is clear as my head is exposed now as merciful air washes over me highlighting the gross sweat and unfortunately oily hair. Note to self, have it on after I’m done giving myself a moment.
The clatter of jocks ranting about their sport now comes back as the basketballs make themselves known from the dribbling and throws that remain always unsuccessful.
Just in case I need to tell myself this again.
The ears are pressed on hard to drown it all out as I repeat the meditative exercise.
I am enough. I am a good man. I deserve to love myself.
All done now.
“Time to face the music” I softly tell myself as I apply that hotbox back on.
I finally walk out feeling powerful. The excitement takes ahold as I have to restrain myself from running up the stairs and jump for joy.
It’s showtime.