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Gordie didn't like to look at himself sometimes.
No, it wasn't because he thought he looked weird or anything, it's just been leaving a pit in his stomach lately. It all started when he looked in the mirror as he got ready for his school's winter formal. Gordie's face has definitely changed as he grew, it didn't look weird to him until he matched it up with how he slicked his hair back.
The image in the mirror had looked like Denny Lachance rose from the grave. Being told he looked like his brother wasn't new to him of course, he remembers the first time he was told, even. He had gotten hit in the face with a baseball at one of Denny's games after wandering out into the field. Gordie didn't remember why he was out there in the first place, all he could remember from the event was the feeling of an icepack against his bruised face and being told he had his brother's eyes.
After that, it was a comment that was inescapable. It didn't bother him, he swore it didn't bother him. Yeah, it was a bit infuriating how many people knew Denny but didn't know, or even cared to know, a thing about Gordie; it still didn't bother him.
It didn't start to get to Gordie until the day of Denny's funeral, that's when it all went to hell. Faux sympathy and arms wrapping tight around his shoulders were enough to make him want to run away and scream at the sky. What he really hated was when people would ask him about sports. Denny knew he didn't have interest in where his talent laid, and he was still proud of Gordie as he was. These people didn't know Gordie, they didn't know Denny either.
In the cafeteria he stared down at his reflection in his clean food tray. He had become Denny whether he liked it or not; a face known like a friend, even down to the same broken nose.
"Gordo!" The boy looked up, the gentle eyes of his dear friend taking him out of his thoughts.
Chris sat across the table from Gordie, something that has been a routine longer than they could remember. He waved at him, usually staying silent as Chris began to speak.
"Are you still up for me coming over?"
Gordie was taking a long pause, studying the details on his face. He finds that Chris looked nothing like Eyeball, so why did he have to look like Denny? It was like Denny's own way of haunting him, like his ghost showed up in the mirror from time to time. After almost twenty seconds of silence, Gordie answers.
Next thing he knew, Chris was at the desk in his own room, scribbling in janky drawings on his homework. He would always erase the sketches before turning papers in. Gordie didn't know why, but he hated seeing him erase them. He didn't care when Chris drew on top of the desk itself, didn't even care when he would scratch into it with a razor.
Gordie laid down on his bed in the wrong direction, his feet kicked up against the headboard. He could just barely see his reflection in the full length mirror standing against his wall. Though the image was small, it was still enough to take Gordie out of the moment. The book he had been reading found its way to the carpeted floor. The Chuck Berry song that was playing from his radio became more and more unclear as the boy sat up; brown eyes widened, his brother's eyes.
"Hey, Gordie?" his head turned towards Chris quicker than a deer in the headlights. "Are you okay man?"
He didn't really have an answer, or more, an answer that he thought no one but him could understand. Chris wasn't like that, Chris knew him and he knew him better than anyone, except maybe-
"Do you think I look like him?" The teen across from him blinked, but he could understand who 'him' was at least. He looked down, tapping his finger against the desk.
"Well, sure you do." Chris said after taking a moment of silence, his voice as soft as ever. "But there's nothing wrong with that!"
Gordie, who's head had fallen to avoid the mirror's image, stared up at him with his eyes only. "People will look at me- and they'll see him." Chris saw his eyes begin to sparkle, saw them begin to fill with tears. "People already look at me, and they think about him- I look at me and I see him."
His voice was cracking as he began to cry. "I don't want to be him, I can't be him." Chris stood up in front of the mirror, taking Gordie's hands in his, pulling him up to his height.
"You are not him." He turned him around to face his reflection once again. "When you look at yourself, what do you see?"
"I see Dennis." Chris lightly shook Gordie as he snaked his right arm around his shoulders. "That's not what I see."
"What do you see?"
"I see Gordon Lachance." He says to him, his voice so soft, but energetic enough to give the boy confidence, like a normal friend. "I see a talented, and handsome young man named Gordon Lachance."
Like a normal friend.
A shiver ran up Gordie's spine as the compliment left the other teen's mouth. He couldn't pay attention to the rest of Chris' words, words he should've been paying attention to.
"It's not a bad thing that you look like Denny- if anything it's good, you're keeping his memory alive."
"Hey, Chris?"
"What is it, man?"
"Are we fags?"
The question hit the blonde like a truck. Looking back at it, the sentence sounded immature; but to a fifteen year old like Gordie, it was like life or death.
"What are you saying?" Gordie couldn't tell if it was just his imagination, or if Chris had leaned in closer. "This isn't... normal," the panic in the boy's voice had gotten worse. His friend had no intention on arguing with him, he just wanted to listen to him.
"Holding... holding me like this- talking to me like that! You treat me more lovingly than any girl I've ever been with, and that's not normal!"
Gordie had started to cry so intensely that he had to take a break from speaking sentences, hunching over and coughing. Chris patted his back and made sure he wouldn't tip over.
"This is why- God- this is why Teddy and Vern don't hang out with us anymore! We're not weird, we're- I'm a fag-" Chris stood completely still except for his hand, which was running it's fingers through Gordie's hair as he began to sob into his jean jacket. Soon both of them were kneeling on the floor after Gordie had collapsed. "God damnit, Chris, I love you."
The boy held Gordie in a hug, his clothes getting wet from his tears. Though this situation was a lot, Chris wanted to comfort him, be as giving as he always was. He laid a small kiss on top of Gordie's temple as he began to calm down.
It was completely silent between them, the only sound being from the radio. Gordie was resting against Chris' shoulder, and Chris was left speechless.
He looked down at him, Gordie was barely blinking. The shine in his dark hazel eyes would have been enough to kill Chris.
"Hey, Gordie?"
He stayed silent, having feared he's already said too much.
"I just wanted to say, you're you, and that's the most beautiful thing you can be. You're gonna leave Denny's shadow one day, because you're talented, and you're a genius. I wish for the world to see what I see. I want thousands- millions to love you, like I love you, just for being Gordie Lachance."