Friday, May 22nd 2015

Mark's red Toyota Corolla trundled down the road, struggling with the weight of the five of them packed into it. Jack sat in the passenger seat, and in the back were Ciarán who had gotten into drag for the occasion, Millie, and Paul. Considering this car had been a monumental part of his childhood friend groups' final few years in secondary school, it felt alien that his Dublin crew were in it. It was like when Hannah Montana showed up on an episode of The Suite Life of Zack and Cody.

Paul had voted in Wicklow that morning, and had gotten the bus up to Dublin to meet them. They had made a quick pit stop in Longford for Millie to vote, and had arrived in Galway just after lunch time. It was a big day, but they had all really pushed to come home with Jack for the vote - to be there to support him, which was very sweet.

'I can't believe you grew up here, like it's pure rural bai.'

'Sure, this is the village,' Jack explained, 'my house is further out again, and there's nothing really around that but fields.'

'Mad.'

The car glugged to a halt in the carpark of his old secondary school - today serving as a polling station for the marriage referendum. It was surprisingly busy. Jack felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Something about the town he grew up in felt so alien to him, even though he hadn't been gone a year yet. It was surprising how eye-opening that year had been. There was so much more out there than the small-town mentality he had grown to accept as standard. Dublin was by no means utopic, but it certainly was better.

That said, he just wanted to get in and get out. Cast his vote, head over to his parents' house to see his father and collect some things, and get straight back on the road to Dublin as quickly as possible. The less time he had to spend here, the better.

'How do you feel?' asked Paul, squeezing Jack's hand.

'Grand,' he said, instinctively pulling his hand free, 'sorry. Just nervous.'

'It's OK,' he replied, unoffended, 'we got you.'

There was a flurry of people entering and leaving the building, all of whom Jack recognised. These were the people he grew up around, people he grew up with. He was now standing outside his old school with a drag queen and a guy he was fucking.

'The prodigal son returns!'

'Jackooooo!'

He recognised the voices immediately and stiffened instinctively even though they had planned to meet here. Mark patted him on the back gently, reassuringly. It was Wham Bar and Begs.

'Well lads,' said Mark, clapping their outreached hands and pulling them into hugs.

'How are we?' Jack added, doing the same.

The pair of them stared at the trio behind them however - a drag queen, the one-legged girl with a pixie cut, and the six foot five giant towering above them.

'Stranger danger,' muttered Begs, 'who are they?'

'These are my friends,' Jack said after awkwardly clearing his throat, 'Paul, Millie, and...'

'Suzie Grant,' Ciarán said, extended a hand which, surprisingly, both of them shook, 'pleased to meet ya bai. But my real name is Ciarán.'

'Suzie Grant! Love it!' Wham Bar laughed.

'Wait, you're a man?' asked Begs, gobsmacked.

Ciarán laughed aloud, 'I would be, ya.'

'Jaysus, you're a bit of a ride,' added Wham Bar.

'This is Begs and Wham Bar,' said Mark.

'Wham Bar? That's an interesting name,' chimed Millie.

'He tried robbing a Wham Bar when we were younger and got caught. It just kind of stuck,' explained Mark.

Jack could feel people staring at them as they passed, enthralled by probably the first drag queen to ever have been in a twenty kilometre radius of their town. He hated himself for cringing. It was bred into him. These were his neighbours. His old teachers. His old classmates. Ciarán was his friend, but he couldn't help it. He felt embarrassed to be associated with him dressed like this. It was a lot.

'Will we go in?' asked Mark.

Jack nodded, and he followed Mark, Wham Bar, and Nailer into the school, leaving the Dublin trio outside to fend for themselves for a while.

'Sorry now, that he-she is a bit sexy. She has a cock?'

Jack half-laughed and half-scoffed at the question uncomfortably, he couldn't help it. Wham Bar was the last person he expected to be like this considering how much stick he gave Begs for his transgender sister over in London.

'What are we voting, fellahs?' asked Wham Bar.

'Yes obviously,' said Mark.

'Ah I suppose so, yeah,' added Wham Bar, then smirked at Jack, 'joking obviously! If I could vote YES twice, I would!'

The room was crowded with the murmur of voices, the shuffle of feet, and the occasional rustle of ballot papers. The polling station was busy, and Jack had never been more aware of how much it felt like a battleground. It wasn't just about the referendum. It was about everything he'd been running from—everything he had spent years avoiding.

Mark's hand closing around Jack's upper arm interrupted his train of thought, and as he looked up, he followed his friend's eye-line and came face to face with his mother.

Jack froze just inside the door, his stomach tightening as he spotted his mother, standing near the counter where people were handing in their papers. Her back was straight, her expression as cold and composed as always. The same woman who had controlled everything in his life—his thoughts, his feelings, his every move. The same woman who had pushed him into a corner until he couldn't take it anymore.

'Jack, let's go,' whispered Mark, trying to usher him past his mother and into the hall where the votes were taking place.

'You go ahead, I'll follow you in in a sec.'

'You sure?' asked Mark.

Jack nodded. Jack's mother didn't even acknowledge Mark, which had to have been weird for him. He had grown up in their house. He was like another son to her. And while she had technically done nothing to him, Jack had told Mark enough for him to be as done with her as he was. His mother obviously sensed the same, because she was just as cold to Mark, as though she didn't even know the boy she once obsessed over. She didn't acknowledge him as he passed, and she looked prepared to do the same to Jack.

But today, he wasn't backing down.

His mother turned slightly, catching sight of him. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The world outside the booth seemed to pause—time slowed, and all Jack could focus on was the woman who had raised him, and who, for so long, had dictated his every step.

'Jack,' she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the stillness like a knife, her eyes falling to the 'Vote YES' badge on his chest and scowling.

Jack straightened up, inhaling a steady breath. His arms were crossed, but he didn't flinch. Not this time. 'Here to vote.'

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. 'You've changed,' she said, her words dripping with disdain. 'Didn't think I'd see you here today.'

Jack felt his fingers were digging in to his elbows, squeezing them with frustration. He couldn't let her see how much he still felt her gaze burning into him. How much he hated it. 'Here to vote, just like everyone else.'

His mother's lips curled into a thin line, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—a mixture of confusion, frustration, and something Jack couldn't quite place. Her stance stiffened as she crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing even further.

'Still going along with all this nonsense, then?' she asked, her voice rising slightly with each word, laced with contempt. 'Supporting something that goes against everything we believe in.'

Jack felt his chest tighten, but he took another breath. He could feel the old emotions—guilt, shame—rising to the surface, but he swallowed them down. He wasn't that scared little boy anymore. He wasn't. 'Yeah, I am,' he said, locking eyes with her. 'I really don't give a fuck what you think about it anymore.'

Her eyes flared with indignation and she winced at the language. 'You think I wanted this for you? You think I wanted my son to—' She stopped herself, her voice trembling with rage. She almost didn't say it, but Jack knew what she was going to say. The word hung in the air between them, an invisible weapon that was no longer powerful.

'I'm still your son, Mam,' Jack said, his voice low but firm. 'And I'm gay. That's not changing, no matter how hard you try to pretend it's not true. This referendum? It's about people like me. People who deserve to love who they want, and live their lives without shame.' She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack didn't let her. He wasn't done. Not yet. 'Do you know what I had to go through to get here?' he asked, his voice rising slightly, though he wasn't shouting. 'I had to leave everything behind. I had to leave you. I had to walk out the door because I couldn't live in a house that made me feel like I wasn't good enough. That made me feel like who I am was wrong. Do you even care about that, Mam?'

For a moment, she didn't speak. Her face was unreadable. For a brief second, Jack thought he saw something flicker in her eyes—maybe guilt, maybe regret—but it was gone in an instant.

'I'm so ashamed of you.'

The words should've hurt Jack more than they did. This was his own mother saying this to him. But somehow, they didn't affect him as much as they should have. He didn't care what she had to say anymore. He was so beyond letting this woman dictate his life that her words meant nothing to him. Nothing. They couldn't affect him anymore. He had been completely desensitised to her hate. She wouldn't affect him anymore. He wouldn't let her control his life.

'I don't care, Mam,' Jack said, tears streaming down his face, his voice faltering. 'I'm not going to apologize for who I am. And I'm not going to hide anymore. Not for you. Not for anyone.'

Her lips tightened further, and her jaw clenched. Jack could see the fight in her. She wasn't going to give in easily. But he wasn't looking for her approval anymore. He wasn't looking for anything from her except the truth, 'I-'

'Goodbye, Mam,' Jack said, finally. He turned away, taking a step toward the ballot boxes. He didn't look back. Not even when she called after him. He wanted to feel sorry for her.

He almost pitied her.

She had lost everything. Her husband. Her one remaining son. Her home. Her marriage. But she had done it to herself. And it wasn't Jack's job to prioritise her anymore, not that it ever had been. It was time to finally live life for himself.