TW: suicide, internalised biphobia leading to gender dysphoria
A/N: I didn't know if I was going to keep this or rewrite it but I hope what I'm trying to say comes across right
August 3rd, 1978
Christine was crying again. Lindsey was laying across her lap, eyes equally as red and tearful. Her hand was tenderly massaging his short hair, easily reaching his scalp. They'd agreed not to tell anyone else but she'd just found him with a razor against his wrist, telling her he wanted to die.
She'd panicked at first, her best friend was trying to kill himself. But something calmed her, knowing she could stop it. She'd done it before. Indigo let her help, maybe he would too. She sit down, and talked to him, until the razor was abandoned in the sink, and he was cuddled up to her on the bathroom floor of the studio.
A week ago, when everyone was joking about his "little outburst" and cutting off his hair, she'd not realised something was wrong. But now, it seemed so obvious.
"I'm sorry," he kept whispering, and she kept whispering back gently that it's not his fault.
"I hate myself," he whispered softly, making her look back down at him, as he looked up at her again, "I hate everything about myself."
"What do you hate?" she asked gently, "Because I see a whole lot of the man I love."
"I hate being a man," he sobbed, "I hate it. I hate everything about it. I hate being bisexual. I want it to be easy."
"Oh," she murmured.
"And I hate that I'm saying this to you," he sniffed, "It's so insensitive."
"It's okay, I'm here," Christine leaned down, pressing a kiss against his hand, "I'm here. You can say it."
"Nobody's ever going to love me, Stevie and Mick make that abundantly clear. I can't get anything right. I'm all wrong."
"Lindsey, people do love you," she whispered, "I love you."
"But not how I want it. I hate being a man because I can't have who I want."
She felt a little hurt at being brushed off, but concentrated on him. It didn't matter, their love was platonic and that was fine, she just wanted him to be happy again.
"You want a man."
"I still want Richard."
"It's not fair, Chris. I sometimes think about how easy it would be if I was born a woman."
She narrowed her eyes, confused.
"So...you're transsexual?"
"The word's transgender. But no, I'm not. I don't know. I don't know, Chris. Maybe I should have been born a woman, then I could be in love with him and it would be fine."
He continued, seeing how confused she was,
"I can't just tell him. He'll think I'm some sort of deviant."
"You don't know that for sure," Christine whispered softly.
Lindsey looked up at her, like a switch had turned on.
"You don't think so?"
"I mean, he was okay when Bowie came out, right? It was Ken with the problem."
"I suppose."
"And in all the years we've known him, he's never dated any women. Linds, he's never even looked at any of the groupies that try to sit themselves down on his lap."
"So, what do I do?"
"You could come out to the band," she said gently, "Or maybe just some people in the band?"
"Stevie's probably already told Mick."
"And he doesn't mind," she whispered, "Lindsey, it's not like you're with a bunch of conservatives, love. What about if we both came out, then it would be less on you?"
"I'd like that," he whispered.
"Then after a while, we see how it goes with Richard?"
"I feel so stupid," he gestured back to the sink.
"Don't," she smiled sadly, "It's not your fault. But when you need to, come to me, don't try to hurt yourself. I love you so much, Linds. I'd hate if something like that happened to you. You're a good person."
October 6th, 1978
"Is bisexual the one where it's three people?" John asked.
"No," Mick said quickly, "It's the one where they don't care if you're a man or woman."
Christine gulped,
"You're both wrong. It's attraction to two genders."
"So like men and women, not just women?" John looked at Lindsey.
"Yep."
"Okay," he said, "Can we get back to work now?"
Richard smiled at Lindsey, and beckoned him to come out into the corridor with him. His heart raced in his chest as he followed, expecting him to be disgusted.
"I'm gay," he said quickly.
"Oh!"
"I've seen you looking at me, Linds, I was just too scared to say anything," he grinned, "May I kiss you?"
"Yes!"
Christine relaxed when Lindsey came back into the studio with a huge grin and swollen lips.
December 4th, 1978
Indigo stepped into the bar, hoping the little German she'd learnt would help her get by. She sat down at one end of the bar, looking at all the stunning women and barely believing she was there. A room full of women just like her. A lesbian bar.
And she was only a little nervous.
She chatted with the bartender, until a tall blonde woman approached her.
"You're new here?"
"Yes," she smiled.
"First time in a gay bar?"
"Yeah, I guess it's not yours?"
"Don't go home with her," the bartender laughed, "She's a slut, always looking for the virgins."
"I'm uh, not a virgin," she giggled.
"She means with women."
"I've had a girlfriend before," Indigo said quickly, "We fucked."
"Mmm, that makes a delicious change then," she sat down next to her, "I'm Anna."
Anna, as it turned out hours later, wasn't nearly as bad as the bartender had made out. She was forty-four, and worked as a marine biologist but always came home for the holidays, and to visit her family made up of the bar owner and some of the patrons, her family didn't accept her either. She was from Bavaria, and liked poetry and whales, and Star Trek.
She was very sweet and gentle as they went to a hotel room, ever so respectful as she kissed a line down Indigo's chest.
And even kinder when Indigo cried and shook her head, unable to keep going.
"It's okay," she murmured, holding her close as she cried onto her shoulder, "It's okay, I'm not gonna make you do anything."
"I'm sorry," she apologised, "I don't think I can do this."
"You miss your girlfriend," she said knowingly, "I understand. Us lesbians love harder than any man, I know."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise, it's okay."
"It's been over ten years since we broke up, it's stupid, I still think about her every day."
"Because you still love her, and you always will," Anna murmured.
