Metalocalypse: Impending Doom

Chapter Two: Pickles

Pickles was most definitely not looking forward to meeting the new band. He wasn't even sure why they were doing this in the first place, and Charles was really vague when he came up with the proposal and offered them the contracts to sign for this new deal that none of them had even heard about until that point. They really had no need for it, but then again there was always a certain madness to Charles's ideas that more often than not would end up making sense later.

He would be lying if he said he was interested enough to actually look them all up or check out their music before actually getting to meet them. But he really didn't care, and neither did the rest of the band (or at least they cared in a negative way), though they all had their own personal reasons. For example, he was pretty sure Nathan wasn't excited because they all knew the band had gotten really popular and fast, and he was probably afraid of losing fans and income to them.

Whereas Skwisgaar, felt threatened by... who was it, Tobias? For his seemingly perfect guitar skills that 'almost' matched with Skwisgaar's- and Pickles himself just didn't care much about anything anymore, let alone people from another band.

Then there was Murderface who, of course, was very upset at the idea that the singer happened to be a woman. "We all know women ckan't be metal," he had commented loudly, which caused Pickles to turn away. They had never spoken of that 'issue' since a year ago, when it had happened, but Murderface was even more relentless than usual with his sexist comments and Pickles wasn't sure if it was an intentional jab at the red-head, or if he was just trying to majorly flex in front of the others. Maybe both.

Despite flushing his meds and skipping about three or four of his doctor appointments, Charles had forced him to go back and to keep taking his prescription, pointing out that giving up wasn't the answer.

So Pickles had no real choice in the matter, and it was beginning to feel like the more he was forced into this, the more uncomfortable he was about the situation. He wasn't being treated for his transition because he wanted to now, it was just that he was pretty much told to keep up a 'charade' of pretending to be cis, which involved getting treatment as a trans person.

It was a complex situation because of course Pickles wanted treatment but not this way. He also never really pretended to be cis up until that point, he just called himself a man and that was that, so it put extra weight on his shoulders. Pickles wished he could find some way out of it. What could he do, though?

It wasn't like there was really a good option, since the world's eyes were on him now, Charles included. It was just that the fear of being found out as trans, of the pressure to being a man, the fact that one of his band members most likely looked at him as a woman, it was all just too much.

Pickles pursed his lips as he laid in his bed with the blanket tangled around his torso. Now was not the time to feel sorry for himself, he had people to meet and tolerate. He groaned inwardly. They better not be a bunch'a douchebags, he thought to himself.

He pulled the sheets off and slipped to the floor with a huff. He'd been drinking an excessive amount late into the night lately (worse than normal) and was now beginning to wake up with hangovers, for once. Oh how he didn't miss that part of the alcoholism before his tolerance had gotten impossibly higher. Pickles struggled to get up to head into his personal bathroom, grabbing his normal set of clothes on the way there.

Stepping into the bathroom without turning on the light, he calmly placed his clothes and towel on the counter, his eyes avoiding the mirror even though it had long ago been painted over in black and could no longer be seen through. He turned on the shower and brushed his teeth in pure darkness until he could feel the steam coming through the curtains.