Status: One shot.
Nudophobia.
Nudophobia.
Let’s get this party jumping.
It seemed like thousands upon thousands of scarecly clad bodies poured out of every crevice of this house. In reality it was probably only a few hundred, but nonetheless it scared Brendon right down to his very core. He wanted to be a part of this, but it seemed practically impossible due to his condition.
Nudophobia = the fear of you, or others, being nude.
Ever since he could remember, he’d been petrified of nudity. It seemed completely and utterly pointless to fear the nude. He’d contemplated becoming a nudist as a way to solve all of his problems, but delving right in at the deep end was too much for him to take. Sure, it was an irrational fear, and Brendon understood this, but this also meant that others couldn’t empathize with him and the cure was to simply ‘get over it’.
Those three words meant nothing to him. It’s like telling someone with a wheel-chair to ride a bike; it’s not going to happen.
His next attempt to try and cure himself brings us to the present day; the party. A band at his high school had been successful enough to be one of the semi-finalists for the competition, Battle Of The Bands. In order to take part in the next battle, they needed to re-create a music video, with the same song but played by that band.
The band was called Flow and the music video they’d chosen was The Middle by Jimmy Eat World. In this video they had the band playing fully clothed in a house with a party, but the others were all in underwear. Not quite nudity but not far off, so surely this would help him. Especially since everyone else was as bare and out in the open as him, it made the problem seem not quite as large.
Or so he thought.
Instead he came to the realization that not only did he fear himself being nude in front of others, he feared for others being nude in front of him. It was like a cycle and he was trapped between it. His breathing rate started to increase until he felt himself hyperventilating, his lungs screaming for air and his body screaming at him to run away. Something was preventing him from sprinting a distance away, perhaps lack of oxygen was the cause, perhaps it was something else.
His sight started to diminish and it felt as if he was falling to the ground in slow motion, the other party goers oblivious to his worries and panic stricken state. Fortunately one person saw this troubled boy and found his inhaler in his jacket pocket, forcing the air from the compressed container down the esophagus of Brendon. It took three puffs for him to regain composure and realize he was on the grass, curled up tightly in a ball with a friendly stranger hovering over him. He coughed several times, clearing his throat and sitting up.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” squealed the other boy; the helper.
“Not particularly, but thank you.” he choked out, pressing a balled up fist to his bare chest as an attempt to gain back his voice.
“I thought you nearly died! I’m Ryan, by the way. If you ever become famous and thank people in your life memos, remember Ryan Ross as the guy who saved your life.”
Brendon chucked lightly, he liked this guy. He had kind eyes, which always seemed like a positive thing to him. He felt that you could tell a person right from their eyes.
Ryan smiled back, running a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair. He held out his other hand, helping Brendon to stand up, but instead Brendon pulled him down to the ground, so they were both sitting on the grass. Ryan landed with very little grace, laughing at himself, which in turn encouraged Brendon to laugh with him without feeling guilty.
“Are you here with someone? Maybe they should take you home, you look a little shaken up.”
“Well according to you, I did just nearly die, you can’t exactly blame me for being ‘a little shaken up’.”
Ryan frowned and flicked Brendon’s head.
“Ow!” he complained, rubbing his forehead. “What was that for?”
“I’m trying to help you and you respond with sarcasm. And you didn’t answer my question, that always pisses me off.”
“Fine. Yes, I did come here by myself although I know a few people, but they wouldn’t expect me to be here.”
“Care to expand…?”
“I have an irrational fear, which I shall not expand on any further.” he said, bowing his head and looking at his pale knees.
“Okay, that’s fair enough. You don’t tell strangers things you don’t want to know.” smiled Ryan, resting his hand on Brendon’s knee knowing that’s where his gaze was. He did it as a comforting gesture and Brendon received it as just that.
“So, you like Flow?” asked Ryan, gathering that Brendon wasn’t much of a talker.
“They’re alright. Nothing special in my eyes, but then again, neither was Elvis and look how well he did.”
He smiled. “I’m not much of an Elvis fan myself, either. I’m sure I’ll appreciate his music when I’m older and wiser, but it’s not something I enjoy when I have it forced down my throat by my family. My nan met Elvis, you see. They use that tiny anecdote as our family’s claim to fame.”
“You talk a lot.” stated Brendon.
“You don’t talk much. You don’t seem to listen much, either. I’ve seen you at school and it’s like you’re always in another land. It’s a little odd if I’m honest.”
“Did I ask you to be honest?”
“Well, no, I jus-”
“Don’t think you know me Ryan when you know shit all. You can’t delve into people’s brains and figure out instantly what they’re like and how they behave.”
“I can tell that you’re gay.” smirked Ryan.
Brendon’s mouth dropped and his pupils dilated. “You keep quiet about that. If anyone else knows I swear I’ll beat you to a pulp. A-And I’m not even sure I am.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are.”
“How can you be so-”
“It takes one to know one, deary.” he whispered in Brendon’s ear, causing Brendon to recoil and his eyes to widen. His mouth dropped further; if he were a cartoon it would have hit the floor and his eyes would’ve rolled out of his sockets.
“You?! You’re ga-”
Ryan covered Brendon’s mouth swiftly. “Yes, I am. But other people don’t need to know about that, do they? I’ll remove my hand as long as you stay quiet.”
Brendon nodded slowly and Ryan retracted his hand.
“I’ve never met another, um, happy person before.” said Brendon, struggling to find another synonym as a cover up.
Ryan smirked, laying down on the grass, tucking his hands behind his head nonchalantly. “They do exist, y’know.”
“I never said they didn’t exist, just not that I’d ever met another one before.”
“You make us sound like we’re some different species. There are plenty, too many in fact, who would agree with you. We’re freaks of nature and we’re betraying the Lord. Apparently.”
“But He’s meant to love us all.” frowned Brendon.
“Try telling that to the Westboro Baptist Church.”
Brendon sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, something he always did when he was nervous, confused or both. “You can go, now. Go join the rest of the nearly naked people dancing as a pathetic attempt at some sort of fame.”
“I’m quite happy here, actually.” he smirked, slowly closing his eyes. Brendon decided to lay down too, biting his bottom lip and letting his eyes flit around the unknown surroundings. He traced the fingers on his left hand in small patterns up his arm, ranging from swirling motions to lines to letters and numbers.
“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of naked people; of nudity in general.”
“What?! How did you know that?”
“Because I used to suffer from nudophobia too. It’s more common than you think.”
“How did you overcome it?” he asked, sitting up abruptly, genuinely intrigued for once.
“If I’m honest, I used to pretty lonely. It was more of a fact that I wasn’t used to people, and somehow that triggered the phobia that is nudophobia.”
“I’m lonely too!” squealed Brendon. “We’re exactly the same!”
“Being lonely isn’t something you should own up to, dear Brendon. I overcame it by improving my people skills. The fact I fell in love soon after helped, too. Gain some more friends, get used to other people whilst their fully dressed. Doing something as drastic as this party won’t help you at all.”
“Will… will you be my friend? Will you help me through this?”
“No.” said Ryan slowly, shaking his head. “No I will not.”
Brendon raised his eyebrows, confused at why the hell Ryan had confessed so much yet refused to assist him with something that had controlled his life for far too long.
“Well, it looks like it’s time for me to go.” smiled Ryan, pointing to his wrist, where a watch should have been but wasn’t.
“How can you tell, you’re not-”
Before Brendon had the time and breath to finish his sentence, Ryan disappeared into thin air, no trace of him ever being there. Brendon looked down to his hand and saw his inhaler. He clutched it tightly and held it to his chest.
It was only then did he realize that Ryan had been completely, and utterly, stark naked.
It seemed like thousands upon thousands of scarecly clad bodies poured out of every crevice of this house. In reality it was probably only a few hundred, but nonetheless it scared Brendon right down to his very core. He wanted to be a part of this, but it seemed practically impossible due to his condition.
Nudophobia = the fear of you, or others, being nude.
Ever since he could remember, he’d been petrified of nudity. It seemed completely and utterly pointless to fear the nude. He’d contemplated becoming a nudist as a way to solve all of his problems, but delving right in at the deep end was too much for him to take. Sure, it was an irrational fear, and Brendon understood this, but this also meant that others couldn’t empathize with him and the cure was to simply ‘get over it’.
Those three words meant nothing to him. It’s like telling someone with a wheel-chair to ride a bike; it’s not going to happen.
His next attempt to try and cure himself brings us to the present day; the party. A band at his high school had been successful enough to be one of the semi-finalists for the competition, Battle Of The Bands. In order to take part in the next battle, they needed to re-create a music video, with the same song but played by that band.
The band was called Flow and the music video they’d chosen was The Middle by Jimmy Eat World. In this video they had the band playing fully clothed in a house with a party, but the others were all in underwear. Not quite nudity but not far off, so surely this would help him. Especially since everyone else was as bare and out in the open as him, it made the problem seem not quite as large.
Or so he thought.
Instead he came to the realization that not only did he fear himself being nude in front of others, he feared for others being nude in front of him. It was like a cycle and he was trapped between it. His breathing rate started to increase until he felt himself hyperventilating, his lungs screaming for air and his body screaming at him to run away. Something was preventing him from sprinting a distance away, perhaps lack of oxygen was the cause, perhaps it was something else.
His sight started to diminish and it felt as if he was falling to the ground in slow motion, the other party goers oblivious to his worries and panic stricken state. Fortunately one person saw this troubled boy and found his inhaler in his jacket pocket, forcing the air from the compressed container down the esophagus of Brendon. It took three puffs for him to regain composure and realize he was on the grass, curled up tightly in a ball with a friendly stranger hovering over him. He coughed several times, clearing his throat and sitting up.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” squealed the other boy; the helper.
“Not particularly, but thank you.” he choked out, pressing a balled up fist to his bare chest as an attempt to gain back his voice.
“I thought you nearly died! I’m Ryan, by the way. If you ever become famous and thank people in your life memos, remember Ryan Ross as the guy who saved your life.”
Brendon chucked lightly, he liked this guy. He had kind eyes, which always seemed like a positive thing to him. He felt that you could tell a person right from their eyes.
Ryan smiled back, running a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair. He held out his other hand, helping Brendon to stand up, but instead Brendon pulled him down to the ground, so they were both sitting on the grass. Ryan landed with very little grace, laughing at himself, which in turn encouraged Brendon to laugh with him without feeling guilty.
“Are you here with someone? Maybe they should take you home, you look a little shaken up.”
“Well according to you, I did just nearly die, you can’t exactly blame me for being ‘a little shaken up’.”
Ryan frowned and flicked Brendon’s head.
“Ow!” he complained, rubbing his forehead. “What was that for?”
“I’m trying to help you and you respond with sarcasm. And you didn’t answer my question, that always pisses me off.”
“Fine. Yes, I did come here by myself although I know a few people, but they wouldn’t expect me to be here.”
“Care to expand…?”
“I have an irrational fear, which I shall not expand on any further.” he said, bowing his head and looking at his pale knees.
“Okay, that’s fair enough. You don’t tell strangers things you don’t want to know.” smiled Ryan, resting his hand on Brendon’s knee knowing that’s where his gaze was. He did it as a comforting gesture and Brendon received it as just that.
“So, you like Flow?” asked Ryan, gathering that Brendon wasn’t much of a talker.
“They’re alright. Nothing special in my eyes, but then again, neither was Elvis and look how well he did.”
He smiled. “I’m not much of an Elvis fan myself, either. I’m sure I’ll appreciate his music when I’m older and wiser, but it’s not something I enjoy when I have it forced down my throat by my family. My nan met Elvis, you see. They use that tiny anecdote as our family’s claim to fame.”
“You talk a lot.” stated Brendon.
“You don’t talk much. You don’t seem to listen much, either. I’ve seen you at school and it’s like you’re always in another land. It’s a little odd if I’m honest.”
“Did I ask you to be honest?”
“Well, no, I jus-”
“Don’t think you know me Ryan when you know shit all. You can’t delve into people’s brains and figure out instantly what they’re like and how they behave.”
“I can tell that you’re gay.” smirked Ryan.
Brendon’s mouth dropped and his pupils dilated. “You keep quiet about that. If anyone else knows I swear I’ll beat you to a pulp. A-And I’m not even sure I am.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are.”
“How can you be so-”
“It takes one to know one, deary.” he whispered in Brendon’s ear, causing Brendon to recoil and his eyes to widen. His mouth dropped further; if he were a cartoon it would have hit the floor and his eyes would’ve rolled out of his sockets.
“You?! You’re ga-”
Ryan covered Brendon’s mouth swiftly. “Yes, I am. But other people don’t need to know about that, do they? I’ll remove my hand as long as you stay quiet.”
Brendon nodded slowly and Ryan retracted his hand.
“I’ve never met another, um, happy person before.” said Brendon, struggling to find another synonym as a cover up.
Ryan smirked, laying down on the grass, tucking his hands behind his head nonchalantly. “They do exist, y’know.”
“I never said they didn’t exist, just not that I’d ever met another one before.”
“You make us sound like we’re some different species. There are plenty, too many in fact, who would agree with you. We’re freaks of nature and we’re betraying the Lord. Apparently.”
“But He’s meant to love us all.” frowned Brendon.
“Try telling that to the Westboro Baptist Church.”
Brendon sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, something he always did when he was nervous, confused or both. “You can go, now. Go join the rest of the nearly naked people dancing as a pathetic attempt at some sort of fame.”
“I’m quite happy here, actually.” he smirked, slowly closing his eyes. Brendon decided to lay down too, biting his bottom lip and letting his eyes flit around the unknown surroundings. He traced the fingers on his left hand in small patterns up his arm, ranging from swirling motions to lines to letters and numbers.
“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of naked people; of nudity in general.”
“What?! How did you know that?”
“Because I used to suffer from nudophobia too. It’s more common than you think.”
“How did you overcome it?” he asked, sitting up abruptly, genuinely intrigued for once.
“If I’m honest, I used to pretty lonely. It was more of a fact that I wasn’t used to people, and somehow that triggered the phobia that is nudophobia.”
“I’m lonely too!” squealed Brendon. “We’re exactly the same!”
“Being lonely isn’t something you should own up to, dear Brendon. I overcame it by improving my people skills. The fact I fell in love soon after helped, too. Gain some more friends, get used to other people whilst their fully dressed. Doing something as drastic as this party won’t help you at all.”
“Will… will you be my friend? Will you help me through this?”
“No.” said Ryan slowly, shaking his head. “No I will not.”
Brendon raised his eyebrows, confused at why the hell Ryan had confessed so much yet refused to assist him with something that had controlled his life for far too long.
“Well, it looks like it’s time for me to go.” smiled Ryan, pointing to his wrist, where a watch should have been but wasn’t.
“How can you tell, you’re not-”
Before Brendon had the time and breath to finish his sentence, Ryan disappeared into thin air, no trace of him ever being there. Brendon looked down to his hand and saw his inhaler. He clutched it tightly and held it to his chest.
It was only then did he realize that Ryan had been completely, and utterly, stark naked.