Okay, okay, okay. Before I write ANYTHING, we need to address a little problem I have...

WHY THE HECK ARE THERE SO MANY PREGNANCY FICS IN THE ARCHIVES! Like... EWIE! You have to understand, that I have this weird fear of pregnant people. (Like... If I ever got pregnant I would cry, have my baby, but then kill myself as soon as it was had. Like... Ugh. I love kids, but the miracle of birth is just SO. FREAKING. CREEPY! Moving on...) I know it's weird, but that's the way it is, and I can't freaking FATHOM why ANYONE would want to WRITE about it! Ewie, ewie, ewie.

Anyway. So for the love of all that is good, PLEASE write lots of NOT pregnancy fics. We can make a trend of not being gross and creepy.

(No offense if you're writing one. It just kind of freaks me out...)

OH! And BTW, this is just the Prologue...

James buried his head under a pillow. Despite the enormity of his house and the distance between his bedroom and the dining room, he could steal hear his father's shouting very clearly through the walls of his bedroom. The words made him so nauseous, it felt like his stomach and his heart were trying to switch places. He hated this...

"Well, what do you want from me? He's loud, he's failing school, and those stupid friends of his get him in all kinds of trouble! I never wanted a dumb son, Brooke! Especially one like this!" Tears sprung into James's eyes, but not because of what his father had said. No... he was used to that. It was what his father was going to say that had him so upset. He vaguely listened to his mother trying to defend him, but he wasn't focused on it. "It's not ABOUT him trying harder! THERE'S NOTHING HE CAN DO! HE'S NOT A GIRL!"

At this point, Mrs. Diamond fell silent, and James hugged his pillow closer around his head, as if that could stop the way his body was wracking with held back sobs. There it is... he thought, biting his bottom lip to the point of making it bleed. At least the worst part was over as his parents conversation fell to merely whispers creeping under his door. He didn't need to creep down the steps and listen in like he did as a kid. He knew full well what was going on.

James knew his mom had dropped her voice so he couldn't hear her agreeing with his dad. He knew that his parents had wanted a girl. He also knew that right now they were discussing how much better it would have been if the doctors had been right all those years ago when they said that he wasn't a boy and what a shame it was that there was really nothing they could do about it.

The worst part? It was like they didn't even notice how hard he tried. He had bent his dreams for them. He had joined theater for them. He'd taken singing lessons for them. James had even gone to the extent of building his whole entire life to the best of his ability to meet their expectations and lived it by giving out the same lies to everyone else that he was trying to feed them. James felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out. James was a boy. A boy. He liked yelling at referees and throwing popcorn in the air in an attempt to catch it in his mouth. He didn't like straightening his hair and coordinating his clothes to Martha Stewart quality.

He was crumbling, and he could feel it. There was only so much more of this his confidence could take. Sure, most people thought he was arrogant, but, frankly, they just didn't understand. They couldn't see the whole picture. Normal people from happy families just couldn't wrap their hands around how someone needed to say it! Someone needed to tell him that he was smart! Someone had to say he was handsome! Someone had to step in and tell him that he was a good kid. A good boy. People couldn't understand how someone needed to say it, and if it had to be him, than James would just have to adapt to that. And he had. So maybe you could call it arrogance, but it was all James had.

Expectedly, his mother's and father's voice grew louder, trying to be heard above the other. This was a new branch of the conversation, that James hadn't gotten used to yet, that James didn't want to have to get used to. He picked himself off of his bed and went to drown out their screams under his shower head. As he went, he couldn't help thinking, this could be it...

Kay, so that's just a sneak peak at what is to come... I have lots to do, so sorry it's so short. Relax, this isn't the intended length of these things...