I Prefer the Mind Control Rewrite - Chapter 6
Here's chapter 6 of I Prefer the Mind Control. Trigger warning for suicidal ideation/suicide attempt.
previous chapter
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“I’m going home. I’ll take public transit to get there, even if the train from here back to school is so expensive I have to sell part of my soul to do it,” I cried.
Preston looked at me. “I’m sorry, Dylan.”
Xan breathed, “You -- you broke the mind control. Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be second best,” I muttered.
My eyes fucking stung, and the words struggled to get out of my throat. I grabbed my backpack.
“You’re not second best,” Xan said.
I huffed,, “Not second best? Not fucking second best? When you told Preston he was the best you’ve had in months? How am I supposed to see that as not fucking second best?”
Xan said, “Just because I have more chemistry with Preston doesn’t mean you’re second best.”
“That’s exactly what that means!” I cried.
I stormed out of there. Luckily, it was far easier to get out than it was to get in. Something strange bubbled in me. I had had an awesome time. Preston and Xan together had been fucking hot, until I realized Xan liked Preston better. They had looked right together. It made my stomach sink even as it churned with nausea.
When the elevator came, I flopped onto the couch and started crying. I knew there were cameras in there, but at the time, I didn’t fucking care. Sobs wracked my body, great ones that made me choke on them. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
I made a lovely fucking picture, didn’t I? Do you enjoy writing me like this, author? You don’t? Then why fucking do it? It’s just where the story goes? Asshole.
Still sobbing, I hugged my stupid orange windbreaker to me. Vaguely, I noticed how the elevator had reached the ground floor, but I didn’t fucking give a shit. I had lost everything, okay? I’m not just talking about Xan, author, if you must know. I lost my chance to, like, be part of a whole damn world that was way cooler than anything stupid Earth had to offer. I don’t fit in on Earth, you understand? And now, now I’m stuck here for good. You put me in this situation, and you feel sorry for me? You need a therapist. You have a therapist? You need a fucking better one.
My hopes that another, nicer Zimaran would magically appear and rescue me from Earth were dashed when I didn’t see anybody approach me in the lobby. Who was I to think that had even the slightest chance of happening? Xan didn’t really want me; why would any other Zimaran be any different? I really was stuck on fucking Earth, and that was enough to make me think, however briefly, about jumping off the nearest bridge.
I have never fucking fit in. For the few moments Xan was focused on me, I felt like I fit, for once. The whole partner sharing deal? Instead of being creepy or weird or deviant or however I was supposed to think of it, I thought “finally, my people!” But they weren’t my fucking people. My fucking people were a society where we had to fight endless legal battles just so guys or two girls could get married. They were the ones who thought bisexuality, especially in guys, didn’t even exist. I hated my fucking people.
Barely keeping my sobs in check, I plunked down on the metal bench to wait for the train back to my university. I didn’t want to go back. Why would I want to go back to fucking failure? I had missed my test, and it was looking like I might lose my best friend to the man I thought could be something to me.
I checked the train schedule, when an emergency announcement went off.
Due to an incident at another station, train service is canceled for the night.
Wait, what?
They could not be fucking serious. Something in my brain just fucking snapped, then. I didn’t care anymore. What -- what was the fucking point? Can you tell me what the point of living on Earth is when you don’t fit in and never have? You can’t? Some help you are.
When I said something snapped in me, I meant it fucking snapped. I jumped down onto the train tracks. Don’t look at me like that. It isn’t like the train is gonna come, anyway. I might as well take a nap on the tracks and leave it up to fate. I was fucking exhausted as it was.
Sobbing again, I lay myself down on the wooden tracks and waited for -- I didn’t even know what I waited for. I stared up at the night sky, with its stupid twinkling stars. Make a wish, they said.
“I wish I were on a different fucking planet,” I muttered.
That one wasn’t gonna come true, was it?
I lost track of time as I stared at the night sky. Somehow, I had an endless supply of sobs. They kept coming, despite my being so exhausted I wanted to just fucking sleep, already. Possibly forever.
“Dylan?”
Great, I was fucking hallucinating. Or dreaming, though I didn’t think I had even fallen asleep.
“Dylan, what the hell are you doing?” It was Preston. I couldn’t see him, but I recognized the voice and knew I wasn’t sleeping now.
“You need to get out of there.” That was Xan. Why the fuck were those two even here?
“Go away,” I muttered. “The train is canceled for tonight, anyway.”
Preston said, “We know that. It’s why we came to look for you, but you still shouldn’t be lying on the tracks.”
“Why not wait for the train to come, anyway? It’s not like there’s any other way off this stupid, horrible planet for me,” I muttered.
Xan murmured, “Because if you don’t get off the tracks, I am calling the police.”
“Why would you even go through the effort?” I spat. “It’s not like you give a shit about me, not if you would fucking say you preferred Preston when I was right fucking there.”
He said, “That’s not even important right now” in this tone that suggested I couldn’t fucking argue.
Xan leaned over the side of the platform. I turned to him as he offered his hand. I didn’t want to to take it. Grumbling, I stood up and let him help me scramble up the side of the platform. I couldn’t fucking afford to let him call the police. When I said that, I meant it literally; psych wards were expensive and my insurance was shit.
I glared at Xan to show him just how ungrateful I was. “I’m not on train tracks anymore. You can go now. I’ll just sleep in the station.”
Preston shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so, Dylan. You’ll just lie down on the tracks again.”
“And so what if I do?” I muttered.
“And so I don’t want my best friend to die,” he shot back.
I said, “Oh, like it would really be that big of a deal.”
“Wh-what? I can’t even answer that.” Preston’s voice was high, strained for some reason as we started walking back to -- wait, where were we even going?
Xan said, “I can’t just let you stay out here all by yourself in your condition.”
“Why the fuck not?” I hissed.
“That should be obvious,” he said. “But you can stay at my apartment for now. I have two guest rooms.”
“I -- I can stay in that room with you,” Preston whispered.
“What, do you guys think I need to be on suicide watch or something?” I hissed.
Preston narrowed his eyes at me. “Obviously you do.”
In tense silence, we arrived at Xan’s beautiful apartment building. It hurt to look at this time, not because the rainbow lights were fucking bright, but because it reminded me of a world I couldn’t have. I didn’t belong here. For that matter, I didn’t belong anywhere. I had the sinking suspicious I would fail to fit in wherever I went because I was just that fucking broken.
The bowing doormen barely registered, as did the elevator ride. Everything blurred and turned strangely gray, like the lack of hope had literally drained the fucking color from my world. So dulled to my surroundings was I, it took me several minutes to notice Preston had his arm around my waist.
We sat on Xan’s fancy couch; Xan himself had gone elsewhere. I traced my fingers along the soft material, fidgeting and wanting to fucking escape.
I muttered, “Won’t Xan be mad you’re being so touchy-feely with his ex?”
Preston’s hair hung in his eyes, so I couldn’t see their expression. “Like you, I broke the mind control he had on me. It was weakened or something already after you walked out. Xan tried to -- tried to get me to leave it on, but I snapped it.”
“Why would you bother?” I asked, not believing or understanding him.
“Because you’re my best friend, and Xan hurt you. I wasn’t going to just stay with someone who treated you so -- so thoughtlessly,” he whispered.
Preston pulled me closer to him, so I ended up kind of snuggling against his chest.
He said, “Besides, Xan isn’t the one I really want.”
I looked into his eyes. “Even after that? You looked so fucking good together.”
“It was fun, but still -- Xan just isn’t the one I want,” he murmured.
The look he gave me was fucking intense, like he was gonna try and mind control me. I felt something shift within my mind, or I thought I did. It seemed like what Xan had done to me, only humans couldn’t fucking do Zimaran mind control.
Preston’s eyes widened, and that shift in my mind shifted back. It felt way, way too much like the shift when I had broken Xan’s control over me.
“Did -- did you feel that?” I asked.
He would probably think I was delusional or something, but I had to ask.
“I did,” he breathed.
“That’s not even fucking possible,” I said. “Can you do it again?”
Preston muttered, “If it’s not possible, how am I supposed to do it again?”
Good fucking point.
He continued, “Besides, even if I do somehow have mind control powers, which I don’t, it would be rude to use them on the couch where Xan could wander in and see us.” Preston detached himself from me.
That was when Xan and Jirrin appeared in the living room. My eyes widened in surprise to see Jirrin over. Xan fidgeted, and he wouldn’t look directly at me.
“I’m -- I’m sorry,” Xan mumbled.
Preston raised an eyebrow. “You’re sorry? After what you did?”
“You were a part of it, too, “ Xan muttered. “And yes, I -- I am very sorry. Dylan didn’t deserve that.”
Jirrin said, “My friend Xan is a massive dumbass. Let me guess, he declared his love for Preston or something while Dylan was there?”
“Yeah, close enough.” It was fucking close enough.
Jirrin smacked Xan upside the head.
“Ow, what did you do that for?” Xan grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
“For being yourself,” he quipped.
Xan said, “That’s no reason to smack me so hard.”
Jirrin shook his head. “You deserved a harder smack, but I went easy on you.”
“No I didn’t,” he mumbled.
Preston said, “You kind of did. But -- thanks for -- thanks for helping me out.”
“Of course,” Xan murmured.
I looked over at Preston, who seemed seriously fucking disappointed. Did he want to experiment with his impossible mind control powers as much as I wanted him to? Because I really wanted him to use his nonexistent powers on me. Don’t look at me like that. I know now isn’t an appropriate time to be experimenting, considering what happened and stuff. I still wanted Preston, okay? Seriously, don’t look at me like that.
Xan had betrayed me, but maybe -- maybe Preston could actually be good to me. My mind still swirled with the strange horror of being stuck on a planet where I didn’t belong, but perhaps it would be less terrible if I had my roommate and best friend with me. Looking at Preston, I started to feel the tiniest bit of hope again.
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written for 500themes prompt #487 - "Messenger"
next chapter
previous chapter
---------
“I’m going home. I’ll take public transit to get there, even if the train from here back to school is so expensive I have to sell part of my soul to do it,” I cried.
Preston looked at me. “I’m sorry, Dylan.”
Xan breathed, “You -- you broke the mind control. Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be second best,” I muttered.
My eyes fucking stung, and the words struggled to get out of my throat. I grabbed my backpack.
“You’re not second best,” Xan said.
I huffed,, “Not second best? Not fucking second best? When you told Preston he was the best you’ve had in months? How am I supposed to see that as not fucking second best?”
Xan said, “Just because I have more chemistry with Preston doesn’t mean you’re second best.”
“That’s exactly what that means!” I cried.
I stormed out of there. Luckily, it was far easier to get out than it was to get in. Something strange bubbled in me. I had had an awesome time. Preston and Xan together had been fucking hot, until I realized Xan liked Preston better. They had looked right together. It made my stomach sink even as it churned with nausea.
When the elevator came, I flopped onto the couch and started crying. I knew there were cameras in there, but at the time, I didn’t fucking care. Sobs wracked my body, great ones that made me choke on them. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
I made a lovely fucking picture, didn’t I? Do you enjoy writing me like this, author? You don’t? Then why fucking do it? It’s just where the story goes? Asshole.
Still sobbing, I hugged my stupid orange windbreaker to me. Vaguely, I noticed how the elevator had reached the ground floor, but I didn’t fucking give a shit. I had lost everything, okay? I’m not just talking about Xan, author, if you must know. I lost my chance to, like, be part of a whole damn world that was way cooler than anything stupid Earth had to offer. I don’t fit in on Earth, you understand? And now, now I’m stuck here for good. You put me in this situation, and you feel sorry for me? You need a therapist. You have a therapist? You need a fucking better one.
My hopes that another, nicer Zimaran would magically appear and rescue me from Earth were dashed when I didn’t see anybody approach me in the lobby. Who was I to think that had even the slightest chance of happening? Xan didn’t really want me; why would any other Zimaran be any different? I really was stuck on fucking Earth, and that was enough to make me think, however briefly, about jumping off the nearest bridge.
I have never fucking fit in. For the few moments Xan was focused on me, I felt like I fit, for once. The whole partner sharing deal? Instead of being creepy or weird or deviant or however I was supposed to think of it, I thought “finally, my people!” But they weren’t my fucking people. My fucking people were a society where we had to fight endless legal battles just so guys or two girls could get married. They were the ones who thought bisexuality, especially in guys, didn’t even exist. I hated my fucking people.
Barely keeping my sobs in check, I plunked down on the metal bench to wait for the train back to my university. I didn’t want to go back. Why would I want to go back to fucking failure? I had missed my test, and it was looking like I might lose my best friend to the man I thought could be something to me.
I checked the train schedule, when an emergency announcement went off.
Due to an incident at another station, train service is canceled for the night.
Wait, what?
They could not be fucking serious. Something in my brain just fucking snapped, then. I didn’t care anymore. What -- what was the fucking point? Can you tell me what the point of living on Earth is when you don’t fit in and never have? You can’t? Some help you are.
When I said something snapped in me, I meant it fucking snapped. I jumped down onto the train tracks. Don’t look at me like that. It isn’t like the train is gonna come, anyway. I might as well take a nap on the tracks and leave it up to fate. I was fucking exhausted as it was.
Sobbing again, I lay myself down on the wooden tracks and waited for -- I didn’t even know what I waited for. I stared up at the night sky, with its stupid twinkling stars. Make a wish, they said.
“I wish I were on a different fucking planet,” I muttered.
That one wasn’t gonna come true, was it?
I lost track of time as I stared at the night sky. Somehow, I had an endless supply of sobs. They kept coming, despite my being so exhausted I wanted to just fucking sleep, already. Possibly forever.
“Dylan?”
Great, I was fucking hallucinating. Or dreaming, though I didn’t think I had even fallen asleep.
“Dylan, what the hell are you doing?” It was Preston. I couldn’t see him, but I recognized the voice and knew I wasn’t sleeping now.
“You need to get out of there.” That was Xan. Why the fuck were those two even here?
“Go away,” I muttered. “The train is canceled for tonight, anyway.”
Preston said, “We know that. It’s why we came to look for you, but you still shouldn’t be lying on the tracks.”
“Why not wait for the train to come, anyway? It’s not like there’s any other way off this stupid, horrible planet for me,” I muttered.
Xan murmured, “Because if you don’t get off the tracks, I am calling the police.”
“Why would you even go through the effort?” I spat. “It’s not like you give a shit about me, not if you would fucking say you preferred Preston when I was right fucking there.”
He said, “That’s not even important right now” in this tone that suggested I couldn’t fucking argue.
Xan leaned over the side of the platform. I turned to him as he offered his hand. I didn’t want to to take it. Grumbling, I stood up and let him help me scramble up the side of the platform. I couldn’t fucking afford to let him call the police. When I said that, I meant it literally; psych wards were expensive and my insurance was shit.
I glared at Xan to show him just how ungrateful I was. “I’m not on train tracks anymore. You can go now. I’ll just sleep in the station.”
Preston shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so, Dylan. You’ll just lie down on the tracks again.”
“And so what if I do?” I muttered.
“And so I don’t want my best friend to die,” he shot back.
I said, “Oh, like it would really be that big of a deal.”
“Wh-what? I can’t even answer that.” Preston’s voice was high, strained for some reason as we started walking back to -- wait, where were we even going?
Xan said, “I can’t just let you stay out here all by yourself in your condition.”
“Why the fuck not?” I hissed.
“That should be obvious,” he said. “But you can stay at my apartment for now. I have two guest rooms.”
“I -- I can stay in that room with you,” Preston whispered.
“What, do you guys think I need to be on suicide watch or something?” I hissed.
Preston narrowed his eyes at me. “Obviously you do.”
In tense silence, we arrived at Xan’s beautiful apartment building. It hurt to look at this time, not because the rainbow lights were fucking bright, but because it reminded me of a world I couldn’t have. I didn’t belong here. For that matter, I didn’t belong anywhere. I had the sinking suspicious I would fail to fit in wherever I went because I was just that fucking broken.
The bowing doormen barely registered, as did the elevator ride. Everything blurred and turned strangely gray, like the lack of hope had literally drained the fucking color from my world. So dulled to my surroundings was I, it took me several minutes to notice Preston had his arm around my waist.
We sat on Xan’s fancy couch; Xan himself had gone elsewhere. I traced my fingers along the soft material, fidgeting and wanting to fucking escape.
I muttered, “Won’t Xan be mad you’re being so touchy-feely with his ex?”
Preston’s hair hung in his eyes, so I couldn’t see their expression. “Like you, I broke the mind control he had on me. It was weakened or something already after you walked out. Xan tried to -- tried to get me to leave it on, but I snapped it.”
“Why would you bother?” I asked, not believing or understanding him.
“Because you’re my best friend, and Xan hurt you. I wasn’t going to just stay with someone who treated you so -- so thoughtlessly,” he whispered.
Preston pulled me closer to him, so I ended up kind of snuggling against his chest.
He said, “Besides, Xan isn’t the one I really want.”
I looked into his eyes. “Even after that? You looked so fucking good together.”
“It was fun, but still -- Xan just isn’t the one I want,” he murmured.
The look he gave me was fucking intense, like he was gonna try and mind control me. I felt something shift within my mind, or I thought I did. It seemed like what Xan had done to me, only humans couldn’t fucking do Zimaran mind control.
Preston’s eyes widened, and that shift in my mind shifted back. It felt way, way too much like the shift when I had broken Xan’s control over me.
“Did -- did you feel that?” I asked.
He would probably think I was delusional or something, but I had to ask.
“I did,” he breathed.
“That’s not even fucking possible,” I said. “Can you do it again?”
Preston muttered, “If it’s not possible, how am I supposed to do it again?”
Good fucking point.
He continued, “Besides, even if I do somehow have mind control powers, which I don’t, it would be rude to use them on the couch where Xan could wander in and see us.” Preston detached himself from me.
That was when Xan and Jirrin appeared in the living room. My eyes widened in surprise to see Jirrin over. Xan fidgeted, and he wouldn’t look directly at me.
“I’m -- I’m sorry,” Xan mumbled.
Preston raised an eyebrow. “You’re sorry? After what you did?”
“You were a part of it, too, “ Xan muttered. “And yes, I -- I am very sorry. Dylan didn’t deserve that.”
Jirrin said, “My friend Xan is a massive dumbass. Let me guess, he declared his love for Preston or something while Dylan was there?”
“Yeah, close enough.” It was fucking close enough.
Jirrin smacked Xan upside the head.
“Ow, what did you do that for?” Xan grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
“For being yourself,” he quipped.
Xan said, “That’s no reason to smack me so hard.”
Jirrin shook his head. “You deserved a harder smack, but I went easy on you.”
“No I didn’t,” he mumbled.
Preston said, “You kind of did. But -- thanks for -- thanks for helping me out.”
“Of course,” Xan murmured.
I looked over at Preston, who seemed seriously fucking disappointed. Did he want to experiment with his impossible mind control powers as much as I wanted him to? Because I really wanted him to use his nonexistent powers on me. Don’t look at me like that. I know now isn’t an appropriate time to be experimenting, considering what happened and stuff. I still wanted Preston, okay? Seriously, don’t look at me like that.
Xan had betrayed me, but maybe -- maybe Preston could actually be good to me. My mind still swirled with the strange horror of being stuck on a planet where I didn’t belong, but perhaps it would be less terrible if I had my roommate and best friend with me. Looking at Preston, I started to feel the tiniest bit of hope again.
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written for 500themes prompt #487 - "Messenger"
next chapter