‘I think my name is Ace.’

There was this guy who had a mask for everything. Not a real mask, but one that did cover his actual emotions and replaced them with ones that were not real at all. If he had to laugh, he laughed. If he had to cry, he cried. If he had to be angry, he became angry, and so on. He never said his name because no one ever said his actual name. Anyone who saw him always immediately said: “Oh my god, you are so pretty! Your hair is so long and curly, it looks beautiful!” But they never asked for his name, they were too busy with complimenting him on his looks. He felt like he was the only one who realised how fucked up the world was.

Every day when he had to go to school, he would put on a pink bra, even though he’d rather not. He would put on a pink blouse, even though he’d rather wear a blue shirt. He would put on a white skirt with pink hearts on it, even though he actually didn’t want to wear anything light-coloured at all. Then he would put a fake smile on his face and walk to school. He did all of those things just to make sure that people would like him. Every morning he went naked and stood in front of the mirror to criticise his own body. Other people said he looked pretty, but he did not want to be a pretty girl with long brown hair. Sometimes, he just wanted to rip all of his hair off his head and scream: Why am I like this!? Why did I get born like this!? 

When he was a little kid, he loved to play with dinosaur toys but his parents always told him not to because they believed that it was something for guys. He refused to stop playing with the dinosaurs and he would always hide them under his bed so that his parents wouldn’t see them. But eventually, they did. The next day his dinosaurs were gone and he never knew where they ended up. After that, his parents would decide everything for him. They put him on dancing lessons when he turned 9, they told him to wear a bra when he turned 11, and they wanted him to wear make-up when he turned 12. He was growing up and he knew it, and so did his parents. If he now did something, his parents always knew. His parents wanted him to be happy, so he became happy. At least, that was what he showed them and the rest of the world. He wasn’t happy at all. He wanted to do stuff guys did. He wanted to cut his hair short. It didn’t matter to him what haircut it was, it just had to be short so that he could actually look like a guy. He always had wanted to change his name but knew that no one would accept that and his life would change drastically if he told them this so he kept silent. He didn’t say a thing anymore and just switched his brain off. He didn’t have emotions, everyone who knew him said. But the people who said this didn’t actually know him. Nobody knew the real him.

But one day, on an average school day, he stood in front of the mirror at 6AM and stared at himself. At the mascara he just put on and the skirt and blouse that exposed too much of his skin. He grabbed a pair of scissors and walked to the mirror again. He felt his hands shaking and the sweat dripping down his forehead. He then did something he never thought he would do before. He cut large pieces off his hair in a rough manner. When he was done, he looked in the mirror. His hair was a lot shorter now. It didn’t look very professional, but it was alright. Suddenly, he remembered that he once got a binder for free and rushed to his closet to search for it. When he found it, he put it on. He got stuck so he had to try to put it on multiple times, but eventually it worked. He looked at the short skirts in the corner and picked them up together with the scissors. He started to cut big pieces out of it until there was nothing left. He put on that one piece of clothing that was very baggy and he finally felt a bit better. He walked to school on his own in complete silence like always, even though he had a complete new look. Before he walked into the school area, he took a deep breath and put on his happy mask, but he felt his hands shake like crazy because of how nervous he was for his ‘friends’ their reactions. He walked into the school with a big smile on his face but then everyone smiled back at him and told him that he looked pretty, like they always did before. His smile faded. He started to think. Don’t I look like a guy? How can they all still recognize me? Just how? He knew that most of them didn’t even know his name and this made him feel the anger building up inside of him. He knew that they meant it in a good way, but he still hated it. He felt like he hated everyone at that moment. How can everyone know how I look like and recognize me everywhere even though they never knew my name. He walked through the halls. He still had his happy mask on, but he didn’t feel anything. He felt empty. He wanted to rush into the males bathroom to bawl his eyes out, but knew that everyone would look at him weirdly because the whole school knows him, so he went into an empty classroom and sat down in the corner. He didn’t want to go to his class that was about to start in 10 minutes, he didn’t want to go home to his parents, but he also didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want anything and he didn’t feel anything either, like usual. But then he heard footsteps. A boy from his age walked inside the classroom. He had black, curly hair and blue eyes, bluer than the ocean. The boy also had a green dinosaur with a blue heart on its forehead as a keychain. The boy sat next to him, looked him straight in the eyes, and said in a happy and cheerful voice: ‘I have never seen you before, what’s your name?’

He had to think about that and smiled at the dinosaur keychain of the boy from which he had a vague memory. He wanted to say the name his parents gave him, but instead he answered like he had always wanted to answer this question: ‘I think my name is Ace.’