He Was An Emo Boy




Mark looks the epitome of your good christian boy – jeans and polo shirt for church, jeans and inoffensive bland department-store tshirts. Neat, short hair. No makeup.

We stand in my bedroom in front of the mirror, door open to avoid offending my mum’s delicate sensibilities.

“You’re a bit bigger than me in height,” I say, looking at him critically, “But with my boobs, I think we’re about the same around the chest. Try this!” I throw a top at him.

“It’s black MESH!” he protested.

“Hey, are you a good boy, or are you an Emo boy?” I tease.

He rolls his eyes and peels off his daggy tshirt.

“PHWOAR!” I say, checking out the utterly sculpted bod. “You are RIPPED! Why didn’t you tell me you were so hot?”

“I’m a humble guy,” he says, grinning but turning bright red.

“That,” I say, “is going to look ten times as hot as I thought! Except you’ll be struggling to keep the other chicks off! Want me to pose as the girlfriend, or do you want to embrace the danger?”

“Girlfriend! Please! God,” he says, shuddering, “the idea of those girls all over me… ugh. I’d smell like a whorehouse, for one.”

I laugh.

Black mesh shirt, eyeliner and a touch of black shadow later, Cinderella’s ready for his ball.


Next morning, I’m lying in bed trying to decide whether breakfast is worth getting up for.

A knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I yell lazily.

Mark’s standing outside in the hall, grey-faced. His eyeliner is smeared.

“Aunt Rose didn’t like my outfit,” he says, and tries to smile.

I bundle him in, sit on my bed, and get him to lie down with his head on my lap.

“Tell me all about it,” I say, stroking his hair.

“Umm… devil worship, satanic, evil, stupid, bad influence, stay away from that girl…”

“Huh – I told you I’m a bad influence!”

He snorts.

“I told her that I wore a lot worse in Melbourne… that you calm me down, not the other way around.”


“I think she might consider letting you see me again in a decade or two.”


  1. Bahahaha, is any of this based on experience Nomes?

  2. I’m too old to be emo, so I’m just weird 😉

    But this is kinda personal-experience-mixed-with-observation with a good dose of pure fiction chucked in for good measure. What I’m wanting to do is write ‘christian fiction’ that rings truer than most I’ve read, and focuses on some real issues. Umm, while at the same time being fully aware that the fundies will be unimpressed, to put it mildly!

  3. Hmmm… I think I know this guy. Or at least the guy envisioned whilst writing this… *grin* He moved to Melbourne… 😀

    Like it a lot… 🙂

    • Well, kinda! 🙂 He’s one of a few I’ve met who I’ve seen hit this ‘oh, you must be gay!’ thing around the traps. It’s one of my hobbyhorses. Sexuality vs habit vs dress vs personal appearance. Stupid society. Stupid christian society, too.

  4. You might need to make some space on that hobbyhorse. Sad thing is that it’s still so prevalent; and it can end up pushing people further and further away. I’ve seen it happen at least 4 times in the recent past.

    Grumble grumble grumble.

    Anyway, it resonated with me. xo

  5. Yup. It’s prevalent because it’s seen as an ‘enlightened’ attitude. GAH. I’m glad it’s resonating 🙂

  6. Loved that last line!

    Sometimes, because I am American, I don’t always understand Aussie lingo. Is it the same for Australians when they read American writing?

  7. Sorrel – definitely! Although I’ve tried to keep the slang usage fairly easy to work out from the context. What tripped you up?

  8. Nicking and crockery tripped me up, but by context I was able to figure it out. There was another installment where I was more confused, but if I just continue reading I usually get it.

    • Aha! I thought ‘nicking’ might be troublesome, but I never picked that ‘crockery’ was an Aussie (maybe English?) term only. Huh. Thanks for that! I’ll keep these problem words in mind.

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