Bryce smiled, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence for several minutes before he broke it. “Your performance was amazing, by the way. You have a really good voice.”
Warmth that had nothing to do with the wine ignited in Zef’s chest. “Thank you. I very much enjoy it.”
“I didn’t think—” he stopped himself, and Zef tilted their head in his direction.
When he didn’t continue, they prompted, “You did not think what?”
“I just, and I don’t mean it as any type of insult or anything, I just didn’t think you were the type.” He grimaced when Zef arched a brow. “That sounds bad. What I mean is, you’re quiet and reserved, but then you got on that stage and just… owned the room. And, hell, that dress—”
Again, he stopped himself, looking away from Zef as the tips of his ears darkened. “Crap, I ain’t saying this right.”
“I think I understand,” they said as their lower left elbow grazed Bryce’s forearm. “I may not be the life of the party like Gemae or brazen like Toni. I am comfortable fading to the background, observing, taking part without standing in the middle. But on stage, I can be the center of attention. I can be loud and take up space. I can even be sensual, but that is because of the stage.
“It is a clear barrier, one the audience will not cross. No one will take my seductive choreography or my provocative clothing as an invitation. There is a contract, an understanding. It is a performance, and thus, a safe way to express a side of myself that would, under normal circumstances, create uncomfortable or unwanted interactions.” The wine loosened their tongue, and more truth spilled out when they normally would have swallowed it. “And perhaps it is nice to be seen, when I am so often overlooked. Even if it is only for a few minutes as I pretend to be someone else.”
Frowning down at his feet, Bryce shook his head. “How can anyone overlook you?”
The sentiment was sweet, if not a bit naive. They were surrounded by loud, attractive friends with bigger personalities, and they were a Mantodea. As a species, they were always overlooked.
More specific to Zef themself, they found social interaction difficult to navigate and surface-level conversation terribly tedious. They either talked too much about niche subjects most people found boring, or they created awkwardness by saying the wrong thing or reacting incorrectly. Even Denys had found them tiresome at times.
They must have said some—if not most—of that out loud because Bryce abruptly stopped walking, making Zef stumble to a stop as well. “That’s bullshit,” he said fiercely, surprising them with the curse. “You’re not annoying or boring. You’re not a background character.”
“That is kind of you to say,” Zef said. “But I am also realistic. I have no desire to change anyone’s mind or fight for acceptance from those who do not immediately offer it. And I will not change who I am to make myself more… palatable.
“I am not ashamed of who I am or what I want or do not want. I am fortunate to have found friends who accept and care for me, with all my idiosyncrasies, as I accept and care for them.” They watched the group of misfits they had come to consider family stagger down the sidewalk in front of them and smiled. “I do not have to pretend with them, and they expect nothing from me but to be myself. And I have learned to offer myself the same grace. So why should I care if there are people out in the world who believe I am not worth their time or consideration? I would not want their attention anyway.”
With that, they turned and started walking once more, lengthening their stride to catch up with the group. Bryce did not immediately follow, butafter several seconds they heard his heavy footfalls as he jogged to close the distance between them.
As he once more fell into step beside them, he tucked his hands into his coat pockets and said, “That’s really cool, Zef. I probably give in to my insecurities too much, caring what other people think of me.”
“I did not say it does not bother me or that I do not care,” they corrected. “I have insecurities, same as anyone, and I do not believe it is possible to live in society and not want acceptance. It is a basic evolutionary desire, and we are all, for lack of a better word, human in that way.”
Their wings buzzed in satisfaction when Bryce barked a laugh at their word choice. “I have simply decided that I am worth being accepted as I am without having to beg for it. So I try to live my life that way, honoring myself, because no one will take better care of me than me.”
“My God, you’re so cool,” he said with another shake of his head.
“You need not flatter me.” They dismissed the compliment with an uncomfortable flick of their antennas. “No one has ever described me as cool.”
He blew a raspberry and knocked Zef’s arm with his elbow, gentle andquick. “Then I’ll be the first. You’re cool. And rad. And dope. And… bitchin’.”
“Bitchin’?” they echoed, and he chuckled but nodded.
“Yeah, you’re… you’re fuckin’ bitchin’.”
It was so outlandish and wonderful that Zef laughed. Loudly. Fully. With their whole chest. Their wings hummed, and their stomach did an odd somersault. And they laughed.
Stopping in his tracks, Bryce stared at them with wide eyes, a crooked grin curving over his face. The others had stopped too, everyone turning around to gawk at them as they laughed, pressing the back of their cool hand to their now-flushed cheek.
“I am fuckin’ bitchin’,” they proclaimed proudly, and after a beat of shocked silence, everyone cheered in agreement.
Gem whooped, and Toni crowed, “Fuck yeah, you are, baby! And don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“Or we’ll fuck them up,” Tad said.
“Zef is fuckin’ bitchin’!” Oliver and Jude chanted as Willow clapped her hands.
And as they all continued their trek down the sidewalk, Zef shifted an inch to the left until their elbows brushed Bryce’s with every step they took. Bryce didn’t move away. Neither did Zef.
