Mallory (Mark)

I saw Steve's interview on TV...again. He gave the same responses as always, which worked, but weren't exactly honest. He averts his eyes briefly when he's concealing negative emotions and he did it during the interview, not enough to really be noticeable, but enough to be an indication that something was amiss. Up there, he was acting exactly like my woodwinds during AP testing week: putting on a meaningless show in the name of a meaningless cause.

Catalina learned that the hard way. Last year, she loaded herself with all these AP classes that I never knew existed. During that year, she was this lifeless thing running off of coffee and fear. After not taking AP classes, she is so much happier and had the time to write for the Desert Tribune. Most college-educated journalists would die for the opportunity alone, but actual publication? Some journalists can't even dream of such fortune.

My Caitgate vlog gained a lot of traction through social media. By a lot, I mean that it went viral, was commented on by some major celebrities (not including Steve), and I've been asked to appear on TV...again. I don't know how Steve deals with doing it on a regular basis; one time was stressful enough. The reactions were mixed. Some people changed their opinions after realizing what the organization had done. Some still dredged up "problematic" stuff to try to justify the organization's actions. However, one of them decided to find my Twitter and had the nerve to attack me for something that I did not choose.

Glad to see that you're back with your problematic opinions, Mallory. 

Quit pretending.

I'll dox all your students unless you delete the video.


Disagree with me? Call me stupid? That's not a problem.

Call me Mallory? Say that I'm "faking"? Threaten to dox my students? That's a problem. I scrolled down further. Steve asked the person "Who's that?". A grin spread across my face, but I still wanted to peel off my skin and toss it into the ocean.

Even if being born in a female body wasn't bad enough, my mother, Yoko, had always told me that I needed to be "pretty". I resented that. There was some truth to her statement, but I had no desire to be pretty. I wanted to be handsome. I worked so hard to be that and, yet, it seemed that some troll had the nerve to take it all away.

But who am I to let them?