Nothing Like You and I
Prologue
Just by looking at Matt Nicholls, you can tell he really doesn't give a fuck what people think about him.
The things that people can usually tell about a person by looking at them, however, are those which are hardest to notice when you look at Matt. You can't tell he had a troubled childhood. You cannot tell he has trouble sleeping at night. You certainly can't tell that he grew up far, far too quickly.
At sixteen Matt lost his virginity to an upperclassman who offered him two hundred dollars for a night of rough sex. He needed the money, and was sick of hearing all his friends talk about their intimate nights with their boyfriends and girlfriends and having no intimate moments of his own to speak of. Soon after, his stepmother, the only family that cared for him, died. Before any of his terrible distant family could get ahold of him, Matt grabbed everything of value to him from home and quickly made a run for it.
He had a few friends that had gone through a similar situation. They had all pooled together as much money as they could and rented out an apartment just big enough for the three of them. Matt quickly became number four.
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Oliver Sykes did not wake up one morning and say, "I think I'll be a woman."
Everytime he saw a beautiful woman in whatever catalogue his mother got in the mail, he always stole them away to look through them. Not to look at pretty girls clad in nothing but barely there undergarments and sleazy swimsuits, unlike Tom. Not to look at trendy fashions. Simply to sit there and marvel at the beauty of being a woman. All those women were so confident in their bodies; their gorgeous curves, their sultry eyes. At this point, Oliver would often lift up his shirt and stare at the hideous scars across his stomach.
When Oliver was fifteen he had gotten into a serious car accident, leaving him with the markings across his body. He hated them. He wanted to be beautiful, and he certainly couldn't achieve that with his body looking the way it did. The more he looked at those women, the more he envied their beauty.
Once he finally moved out at eighteen, he started the collection jar. It would help him achieve happiness, make him whole.
He would finally be beautiful.
The things that people can usually tell about a person by looking at them, however, are those which are hardest to notice when you look at Matt. You can't tell he had a troubled childhood. You cannot tell he has trouble sleeping at night. You certainly can't tell that he grew up far, far too quickly.
At sixteen Matt lost his virginity to an upperclassman who offered him two hundred dollars for a night of rough sex. He needed the money, and was sick of hearing all his friends talk about their intimate nights with their boyfriends and girlfriends and having no intimate moments of his own to speak of. Soon after, his stepmother, the only family that cared for him, died. Before any of his terrible distant family could get ahold of him, Matt grabbed everything of value to him from home and quickly made a run for it.
He had a few friends that had gone through a similar situation. They had all pooled together as much money as they could and rented out an apartment just big enough for the three of them. Matt quickly became number four.
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Oliver Sykes did not wake up one morning and say, "I think I'll be a woman."
Everytime he saw a beautiful woman in whatever catalogue his mother got in the mail, he always stole them away to look through them. Not to look at pretty girls clad in nothing but barely there undergarments and sleazy swimsuits, unlike Tom. Not to look at trendy fashions. Simply to sit there and marvel at the beauty of being a woman. All those women were so confident in their bodies; their gorgeous curves, their sultry eyes. At this point, Oliver would often lift up his shirt and stare at the hideous scars across his stomach.
When Oliver was fifteen he had gotten into a serious car accident, leaving him with the markings across his body. He hated them. He wanted to be beautiful, and he certainly couldn't achieve that with his body looking the way it did. The more he looked at those women, the more he envied their beauty.
Once he finally moved out at eighteen, he started the collection jar. It would help him achieve happiness, make him whole.
He would finally be beautiful.