I Prefer the Mind Control Fanfiction - I Told Him He Didn't Matter
This is fanfiction for I Prefer the Mind Control. I might rewrite that one so that certain major problems with it are corrected. My mind was inspired to write in that universe, so here you go. It's told from Xan's perspective. Enjoy!
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I feel terrible for the way I’ve treated Dylan -- he deserves so much better. The memory plays in my mind, of how I told him he “didn’t matter” and was “just an experiment.” I lay on my bed, still in my everyday vacation clothes. I’m staring at the canopy of black fabric. My mood is sure dark enough right now -- I could about drown in the despair created by my own foolishness.
Why did I tell him those things? They just popped out of my mouth, even though I didn’t mean them. At all. I shift to my side, remembering the times I’ve had him in this bed beside me. What kind of man am I, to tell someone such cruel things? I shut my eyes, trying to banish the thoughts of Dylan from my mind.
Instead, a vague image of my ex boyfriend appears on the bed -- ghostly and obviously unreal. Still, the beautiful face, blue-grey eyes, chocolate brown hair, pale skin and thin body are clear enough. “You had your chance,” the ghost-Dylan says. Then, he disappears.
I sigh -- I must be an utter mess if I’m hallucinating. My bad condition makes sense, though, as I haven’t been sleeping well. Just as I’m about to possibly doze off, the doorbell beeps. The loud electronic sound jars me fully awake -- I’m not expecting company, and people can’t just ring the doorbell in this apartment building. It must be my neighbor and friend, Jirrin, who decided to come on this vacation to Earth with me. That’s why the security system is merely telling me someone is here, rather than that there’s an intruder.
Slowly, I get up. While I know Jirrin must be getting impatient already, I take a few moments to straighten my rumpled clothes and brush my hair. Without bothering to put on shoes, I shuffle to the front door and check to see who’s there on the security video by the door -- it is, indeed, Jirrin. I let him in.
He looks worried -- his metallic purple eyes show clear concern. I find it hard to look at them. Jirrin never approved of my relationship with the human Dylan, and I’m embarrassed about how I screwed it up. Also, I don’t want to deal with him chiding me for getting involved with someone from Earth when it couldn’t realistically last.
“Hello, Jirrin. What -- what are you doing here?” I say.
“I -- was worried about you, Xan,” he murmurs. “You haven’t so much as texted me for a whole week.” He shakes his head.
I shrug my shoulders, desperately trying to brush off his concern. Right now, I really do not want to discuss anything related to Dylan with Jirrin.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
He narrows his eyes at me. “You are not fine. You look like you haven’t slept in who knows how long.”
“I haven’t. Not really,” I sigh. My shoulders slump. Without waiting to see if Jirrin is going to follow, I shuffle towards the couch in the living room. I flop down on it.
Jirrin sits beside me, with barely an inch of space between us. “This is about that Dylan kid, isn’t it?”
I put my head in my hands and groan. “Yes, it is. But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You can’t stop thinking about him, even after you told him those things, can you?” he says. He grabs my arm and pulls it away from my face. He’s done that before -- whenever he does, I can’t manage to avoid his eyes, no matter how much I want to.
“So what if I can’t, Jirrin? It’s not like I can get him back,” I say. The despair in my voice is obvious. “What’s the point in discussing it?”
Jirrin releases my arm. He lets out a long sigh, and I can’t interpret the expression on his face. His eyes are strange, as if there’s some sort of hidden emotion in them that he’s trying and failing to hide completely. I wonder what that emotion is.
“It’s -- it’s not good to keep your feelings to yourself. It can rot your mind if you do,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow -- something’s definitely off with Jirrin. I shake my head -- right now, I don’t have the mental energy to figure out what’s going on with my friend. “I still don’t see the point in discussing them,” I say.
Will discussing these things get Dylan out of my mind? I don’t want to talk about my ex lover with someone who didn’t even like him -- and Jirrin certainly didn’t.
Jirrin leans back on the couch. He folds his hands in his lap, and, now, I’m especially aware of the tiny amount of space between us. “It might make you feel better -- and I hate seeing you this upset,” he says. “Even if you did something horribly stupid by telling Dylan he didn’t matter to you.”
I lean back on the couch as well, letting out a huge sigh. I place my arm on the armrest and give it a squeeze. Hearing what I did stated so plainly hurts. “I -- I have no idea why I said that to him, as it’s...not even true,” I say. My voice cracks as I speak.
“You were scared,” Jirrin says with an odd sense of authority.
“Scared?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Of what?”
“Of having a real relationship. You’ve never had one before Dylan, have you? Even if you’ll sleep with almost anybody, including me,” he mutters. Jirrin sits up straighter. His face is deadly serious and he looks almost -- angry?
My heart stops for a moment at the accusation in his words. “Well, it’s normal for our kind to sleep around, even when we’re in a relationship.”
“Exactly. So being unable to have sex with as many people as you want isn’t a reason to push someone away. And that’s what you did to Dylan -- push him away, because you were scared of being actually close to someone,” he says. He glares at me.
I flinch -- Jirrin’s right, isn’t he? “I...well...perhaps you’re right,” I say.
Jirrin crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I know I’m right.”
If I’m honest with myself, I have always been afraid of getting too close to people. What if someone gets to know me well and decides I’m not as wonderful as they thought? I don’t...see myself as a worthy partner, so why would anybody else see me that way?
My eyes start to sting. Dylan got closer than anyone else has, and then I just reacted and pushed him away because I didn’t want him to see me as I am.
“Do you...” my voice is hesitant, and it trails off.
“Do I what?” Jirrin raises an eyebrow.
“Do you...think I might be able to win Dylan back if I explain to him why I acted as I did?” I say. I can feel hope start to blossom in my chest.
A strange expression crosses Jirrin’s face -- it’s some combination of disgust and disappointment. The expression is gone in less than a second, and I wonder now if I’ve imagined it.
“I...well, it might be possible,” he says.
I sit up straighter myself. “You really think so?”
He nods. “I do.” Somehow, he doesn’t sound as happy about the possibility as I would have expected.
I grab my phone from my bag. “I’m going to call him now, before I lose my nerve,” I say.
Jirrin’s eyes widen. “You’re going to what?”
“Call Dylan and explain everything,” I murmur. If I can’t get him out of my head, it’s best if I do this now. I don’t think I’ll have the courage if I wait much longer, anyway. Unlike when I asked him out after our first night in bed together, I don’t go to my computer to use VidCall -- I know I won’t be able to bear seeing his face right now.
Before Jirrin can say anything, I dial Dylan’s number and put the phone to my ear. It rings and rings and rings -- I’m sure it’s going to go to voicemail. Why would someone answer the call of a man who told him he “didn’t matter?”
“Xan? What the fuck?” It’s Dylan. I nearly drop the phone in my surprise.
My voice freezes, as does my whole body. I stare at the phone, not believing it’s really him on the other end of the line.
“Um, hello? Could you, like, tell me what this is about?” he says.
Jirrin watches me, his body perfectly still.
I take a deep, shaky breath. “Can we -- talk?” I say as I put the phone back to my ear.
“Talk? About...what? What do you have to say to someone who -- who doesn’t fucking matter to you?” he mutters. His voice cracks, and I hear the pain in it.
“You...do matter to me, Dylan,” I sigh.
“That’s not what you said before. Uh, why the sudden change? You get a mind-altering virus or something?” he says.
Jirrin remains so still, and so tensed, it almost frightens me.
I do have to keep myself from laughing at Dylan’s response, though -- only he would ask about mind-altering viruses at a time like this. “No, no there wasn’t any mind-altering virus. I just...” I trail off.
“Just what?” he says.
“I just...realized something,” I say. “I -- made a mistake.”
“No shit,” he mutters. “And you’re not making any fucking sense right now.”
“Well, there’s a...reason I said what I did. And it’s...not because you don’t matter to me,” I say. My eyes definitely begin filling with tears. Dylan sound so angry right now.
“Well, what is your reason?” he says.
“I...was scared,” I sigh. My chest hurts.
“Of what?” he says.
“Of...getting close to you. Of getting romantically close to anyone. So I -- so I...pushed you away, by saying those things. And it worked, didn’t it?” I say. Those tears threaten to spill from my eyes.
“Yeah, it worked. I...really believed you didn’t think anything of me. It fucking hurt. Not sure I believe you now,” he says. “But thanks, I guess.”
My stomach sinks and the tears start to fall -- Dylan doesn’t want me back, does he? That doesn’t stop me from saying, “I’m telling the truth. I...wish we -- wish we could...try things again, maybe? I...still like you, very much.”
Dylan lets out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “I -- I don’t have any idea how I feel about that.”
“You -- don’t have any idea?” I say. This isn’t how I wanted this conversation to go at all.
“I don’t, okay? But, uh, I don’t think we can just get back together like nothing happened. That’s just...not possible. I don’t, like, feel ready for that,” he says. “Even if I guess I do believe you.”
“You -- don’t? Are you -- are you s-sure?” My voice cracks, and the tears fall freely.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he sighs. “Look, I gotta go. Uh, maybe we can, like, talk later. Bye, Xan,” he says. He hangs up with a final click.
I let the phone fall from my hand and drop to the floor. Sobs wrack my body -- I shouldn’t feel this awful over something that was my fault, but I do. Silently, Jirrin puts his arms around me and lets me cry into his shoulder. I wrap my arms around him -- I’m grateful for the comfort, even if I in no way deserve it.
“He said no, didn’t he?” Jirrin murmurs.
“Y-yes,” I sob.
The despair threatens to overwhelm me, and I let it.
---------
I feel terrible for the way I’ve treated Dylan -- he deserves so much better. The memory plays in my mind, of how I told him he “didn’t matter” and was “just an experiment.” I lay on my bed, still in my everyday vacation clothes. I’m staring at the canopy of black fabric. My mood is sure dark enough right now -- I could about drown in the despair created by my own foolishness.
Why did I tell him those things? They just popped out of my mouth, even though I didn’t mean them. At all. I shift to my side, remembering the times I’ve had him in this bed beside me. What kind of man am I, to tell someone such cruel things? I shut my eyes, trying to banish the thoughts of Dylan from my mind.
Instead, a vague image of my ex boyfriend appears on the bed -- ghostly and obviously unreal. Still, the beautiful face, blue-grey eyes, chocolate brown hair, pale skin and thin body are clear enough. “You had your chance,” the ghost-Dylan says. Then, he disappears.
I sigh -- I must be an utter mess if I’m hallucinating. My bad condition makes sense, though, as I haven’t been sleeping well. Just as I’m about to possibly doze off, the doorbell beeps. The loud electronic sound jars me fully awake -- I’m not expecting company, and people can’t just ring the doorbell in this apartment building. It must be my neighbor and friend, Jirrin, who decided to come on this vacation to Earth with me. That’s why the security system is merely telling me someone is here, rather than that there’s an intruder.
Slowly, I get up. While I know Jirrin must be getting impatient already, I take a few moments to straighten my rumpled clothes and brush my hair. Without bothering to put on shoes, I shuffle to the front door and check to see who’s there on the security video by the door -- it is, indeed, Jirrin. I let him in.
He looks worried -- his metallic purple eyes show clear concern. I find it hard to look at them. Jirrin never approved of my relationship with the human Dylan, and I’m embarrassed about how I screwed it up. Also, I don’t want to deal with him chiding me for getting involved with someone from Earth when it couldn’t realistically last.
“Hello, Jirrin. What -- what are you doing here?” I say.
“I -- was worried about you, Xan,” he murmurs. “You haven’t so much as texted me for a whole week.” He shakes his head.
I shrug my shoulders, desperately trying to brush off his concern. Right now, I really do not want to discuss anything related to Dylan with Jirrin.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
He narrows his eyes at me. “You are not fine. You look like you haven’t slept in who knows how long.”
“I haven’t. Not really,” I sigh. My shoulders slump. Without waiting to see if Jirrin is going to follow, I shuffle towards the couch in the living room. I flop down on it.
Jirrin sits beside me, with barely an inch of space between us. “This is about that Dylan kid, isn’t it?”
I put my head in my hands and groan. “Yes, it is. But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You can’t stop thinking about him, even after you told him those things, can you?” he says. He grabs my arm and pulls it away from my face. He’s done that before -- whenever he does, I can’t manage to avoid his eyes, no matter how much I want to.
“So what if I can’t, Jirrin? It’s not like I can get him back,” I say. The despair in my voice is obvious. “What’s the point in discussing it?”
Jirrin releases my arm. He lets out a long sigh, and I can’t interpret the expression on his face. His eyes are strange, as if there’s some sort of hidden emotion in them that he’s trying and failing to hide completely. I wonder what that emotion is.
“It’s -- it’s not good to keep your feelings to yourself. It can rot your mind if you do,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow -- something’s definitely off with Jirrin. I shake my head -- right now, I don’t have the mental energy to figure out what’s going on with my friend. “I still don’t see the point in discussing them,” I say.
Will discussing these things get Dylan out of my mind? I don’t want to talk about my ex lover with someone who didn’t even like him -- and Jirrin certainly didn’t.
Jirrin leans back on the couch. He folds his hands in his lap, and, now, I’m especially aware of the tiny amount of space between us. “It might make you feel better -- and I hate seeing you this upset,” he says. “Even if you did something horribly stupid by telling Dylan he didn’t matter to you.”
I lean back on the couch as well, letting out a huge sigh. I place my arm on the armrest and give it a squeeze. Hearing what I did stated so plainly hurts. “I -- I have no idea why I said that to him, as it’s...not even true,” I say. My voice cracks as I speak.
“You were scared,” Jirrin says with an odd sense of authority.
“Scared?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Of what?”
“Of having a real relationship. You’ve never had one before Dylan, have you? Even if you’ll sleep with almost anybody, including me,” he mutters. Jirrin sits up straighter. His face is deadly serious and he looks almost -- angry?
My heart stops for a moment at the accusation in his words. “Well, it’s normal for our kind to sleep around, even when we’re in a relationship.”
“Exactly. So being unable to have sex with as many people as you want isn’t a reason to push someone away. And that’s what you did to Dylan -- push him away, because you were scared of being actually close to someone,” he says. He glares at me.
I flinch -- Jirrin’s right, isn’t he? “I...well...perhaps you’re right,” I say.
Jirrin crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I know I’m right.”
If I’m honest with myself, I have always been afraid of getting too close to people. What if someone gets to know me well and decides I’m not as wonderful as they thought? I don’t...see myself as a worthy partner, so why would anybody else see me that way?
My eyes start to sting. Dylan got closer than anyone else has, and then I just reacted and pushed him away because I didn’t want him to see me as I am.
“Do you...” my voice is hesitant, and it trails off.
“Do I what?” Jirrin raises an eyebrow.
“Do you...think I might be able to win Dylan back if I explain to him why I acted as I did?” I say. I can feel hope start to blossom in my chest.
A strange expression crosses Jirrin’s face -- it’s some combination of disgust and disappointment. The expression is gone in less than a second, and I wonder now if I’ve imagined it.
“I...well, it might be possible,” he says.
I sit up straighter myself. “You really think so?”
He nods. “I do.” Somehow, he doesn’t sound as happy about the possibility as I would have expected.
I grab my phone from my bag. “I’m going to call him now, before I lose my nerve,” I say.
Jirrin’s eyes widen. “You’re going to what?”
“Call Dylan and explain everything,” I murmur. If I can’t get him out of my head, it’s best if I do this now. I don’t think I’ll have the courage if I wait much longer, anyway. Unlike when I asked him out after our first night in bed together, I don’t go to my computer to use VidCall -- I know I won’t be able to bear seeing his face right now.
Before Jirrin can say anything, I dial Dylan’s number and put the phone to my ear. It rings and rings and rings -- I’m sure it’s going to go to voicemail. Why would someone answer the call of a man who told him he “didn’t matter?”
“Xan? What the fuck?” It’s Dylan. I nearly drop the phone in my surprise.
My voice freezes, as does my whole body. I stare at the phone, not believing it’s really him on the other end of the line.
“Um, hello? Could you, like, tell me what this is about?” he says.
Jirrin watches me, his body perfectly still.
I take a deep, shaky breath. “Can we -- talk?” I say as I put the phone back to my ear.
“Talk? About...what? What do you have to say to someone who -- who doesn’t fucking matter to you?” he mutters. His voice cracks, and I hear the pain in it.
“You...do matter to me, Dylan,” I sigh.
“That’s not what you said before. Uh, why the sudden change? You get a mind-altering virus or something?” he says.
Jirrin remains so still, and so tensed, it almost frightens me.
I do have to keep myself from laughing at Dylan’s response, though -- only he would ask about mind-altering viruses at a time like this. “No, no there wasn’t any mind-altering virus. I just...” I trail off.
“Just what?” he says.
“I just...realized something,” I say. “I -- made a mistake.”
“No shit,” he mutters. “And you’re not making any fucking sense right now.”
“Well, there’s a...reason I said what I did. And it’s...not because you don’t matter to me,” I say. My eyes definitely begin filling with tears. Dylan sound so angry right now.
“Well, what is your reason?” he says.
“I...was scared,” I sigh. My chest hurts.
“Of what?” he says.
“Of...getting close to you. Of getting romantically close to anyone. So I -- so I...pushed you away, by saying those things. And it worked, didn’t it?” I say. Those tears threaten to spill from my eyes.
“Yeah, it worked. I...really believed you didn’t think anything of me. It fucking hurt. Not sure I believe you now,” he says. “But thanks, I guess.”
My stomach sinks and the tears start to fall -- Dylan doesn’t want me back, does he? That doesn’t stop me from saying, “I’m telling the truth. I...wish we -- wish we could...try things again, maybe? I...still like you, very much.”
Dylan lets out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “I -- I don’t have any idea how I feel about that.”
“You -- don’t have any idea?” I say. This isn’t how I wanted this conversation to go at all.
“I don’t, okay? But, uh, I don’t think we can just get back together like nothing happened. That’s just...not possible. I don’t, like, feel ready for that,” he says. “Even if I guess I do believe you.”
“You -- don’t? Are you -- are you s-sure?” My voice cracks, and the tears fall freely.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he sighs. “Look, I gotta go. Uh, maybe we can, like, talk later. Bye, Xan,” he says. He hangs up with a final click.
I let the phone fall from my hand and drop to the floor. Sobs wrack my body -- I shouldn’t feel this awful over something that was my fault, but I do. Silently, Jirrin puts his arms around me and lets me cry into his shoulder. I wrap my arms around him -- I’m grateful for the comfort, even if I in no way deserve it.
“He said no, didn’t he?” Jirrin murmurs.
“Y-yes,” I sob.
The despair threatens to overwhelm me, and I let it.