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Normal’s family was built on compromise.
They compromised when it came to their personalities; Normal could tone his… everything back some, so that his parents could be proud of him, his dad could keep his criticism light and more… upsetting thoughts to himself, his uncle could tone back his anger some, Hero could argue less or care less or whatever it was she needed to do less of on any given occasion, and his mom… well, she was the best at it- at keeping the peace, even if that meant sacrificing individuality or genuinity for compromise.
They built their entire relationship on an understanding that you need to work with one another, not against, and, if that meant that they all walked on eggshells trying to appease one another? Well, that was just one of the casualties of being a put-together family who didn’t constantly fight.
And, some days, it really did seem like it worked! They’d eat dinner as a family, and Uncle Lark and Normal’s dad would discuss work things, or his mom would bring up a new flavour or a new business model she was planning on introducing to the ice cream shop, or Hero would talk about something she was interested in. Sometimes, Normal talked about his interests as well- which largely fell under the umbrella of being Teenie the Teen, which… on a good night, everyone would be politely interested in his latest escapades.
For a long time, he really thought that his dad was proud of him, that the strained smiles he and Normal’s mom would wear were actually genuine, that they really supported him trying to be the best mascot the school could ask for.
Having that knowledge dissipate, like it’d never been true in the first place, felt… bad? There wasn’t a concise way to explain it- it felt like his life was falling apart and nobody else had noticed? Or that something had broken inside, but really it was some sort of old wound that he’d tried to stuff with cotton, only to have that protection brutally ripped out and be stabbed again?
Or maybe that he felt like there was something wrong with him, because his dad was almost always right, and, maybe, he needed to be less him to be less broken.
He didn’t really know what to think of himself, or how, or who he was, now that he wasn’t supposed to be a mascot, but couldn’t really be like the other kids.
He tried, tried out going by ‘Norm’ instead of Normal, walking and acting normally, emulating different parts of people around him that were normal, regular people whose parents weren’t disappointed in them.
Even with the tips Hermie gave him, he wasn’t very… good at it. He tried, but everything seemed to fall… flat.
And then, of course, there was the… overwhelming feeling that, despite being a little more normal, a little less maybe-broken (Taylor, oddly enough, was particularly insistent that he wasn’t broken, his dad wasn’t disappointed in him because he was wrong or bad, it wasnt his fault), he didn’t… feel good.
He watched Hermie’s rehearsals when his other friends were busy, or just whenever he felt like it, suddenly having a lot of time where he felt like he was drifting around aimlessly, and, noticeably, Hermie always seemed at-home in his role. Excited to play the part- hence all the method acting.
Once or twice, Normal even noticed the mask becoming briefly translucent, Joker’s smile turning a little more genuine as Hermie’s eyes sparkled in delight at how genuinely he liked acting. For him, playing the role was the fun part.
It was a lot like the way Normal felt when he was playing Teenie the Teen; excited, free, unconstrained by whoever ‘Normal’ was, and very little like how he felt when he was playing Norm, the normal, regular, perfectly average teen with average teen… everything.
It was easy enough, he realised, but, the longer he played Norm, the less he felt like himself.
It was nearly a month after the whole thing happened- and, oddly enough, his dad still looked at him with that vaguely-concerned, vaguely-disappointed, probably, stare, as if he’d made no progress in being more normal at all, refusing to take the compromise that Normal was so clearly offering, although it had gotten a little lighter recently, forced smiles a little less prominent- when Hermie stopped him after school.
“Normal,” He greeted, and Normal turned to glance at him.
He wasn’t method acting at the moment, that much he could tell- Hermie’s expression was softer, more open, and less theatrical than it was when he was playing a role, more down-to-Earth.
“Hey, Hermie,” He sighed.
“This role doesn’t suit you,” Hermie told him bluntly, and he startled, nearly dropping the book he’d been transferring into his backpack.
“This- what? I mean- it’s not like I…”
“Normal, Normal, Normal… in theatre, casting is determined by how well an actor fits any given roles, correct?”
Normal nodded, less because he actually knew much about theatre, and more because Hermie seemed certain of it.
“You and this… ‘Norm’ character are poorly matched, as it were. It’s as if- well, Scary wouldn’t do well playing Lincoln for a day, would she?”
Normal frowned. “I don’t think…”
“Imagine, if you may, Scary Marlowe, resident goth, trying to copy Lincoln’s mannerisms-” Hermie’s posture and demeanour shifted, voice raising into a decent approximation of Scary’s. “I’m Scary Marlowe, anxious mess and current junior varsity member, but I hope to make it to varsity soon! I love my parents a lot and I’m really excited to be at school on any given day, but I keep getting detention and that makes me nervous!” His voice dropped back to normal as he gave Normal a serious look. “Can you imagine that in her actual voice?”
“Well… no, but…”
“Let’s see the same for you… if I may?”
“Sure?”
Hermie cleared his throat, and, after a moment, began to speak in a voice that was similar enough to Normal’s that it was recognisable that’s what he was going for, but not so similar as to be unsettling- “I’m Norm Oak, a regular teen-” So far, so good. “-and I like normal things like anime, rock music, and sports- but I only like that last one to a normal extent. I think that school is pretty boring, I don’t like marching band music, and my favourite ice cream flavour is probably chocolate. I hate my parents because they’re uncool, and I don’t know who I want to be, because why would any teenager already have the next step in their life planned?”
Normal felt himself deflate, a little.
“I- I mean, a lot of that is pretty accurate?” He tried weakly, and Hermie raised an eyebrow.
“Try again,” He responded gently, “I can add more if you want- Norm finds assemblies boring and pointless, and doesn’t go to any sports games anymore. Norm doesn’t mind that Teenie the Teen has been left behind as a mascot almost entirely, and Norm would never get into detention over the mascot that he thinks is the lamest one of all time-”
“Okay.” Normal exhaled. “I get your point. Or- I think I do? You’re saying I have to… try a different role. But who should I play? Normal is… my own dad is disappointed in Normal, and Norm is a pretty good compromise, but… you’re right that he isn’t me, not really at all- but I can’t be Normal.”
“Well, why not?”
Normal felt a bitter laugh creep out of his throat. He didn’t properly feel like Normal or Norm, at the moment- just like a confused teen who didn’t know who the hell he was supposed to be, if there was anyone who wouldn’t disappoint everyone around him.
“My dad is disappointed in me, my mom is worried- oh, and if I don’t compromise to be less Normal and more Norm, then my entire family will tear itself apart, which isn’t exactly fair, but maybe I’m the one being unfair, expecting everyone else to like me as just-” A sob. “Just a fucking mascot… what’s so wrong with me, Hermie?”
Normal glanced at Hermie through watery eyes, his friend (or boyfriend? They’d never really… talked about it) looking thoughtful.
“You know, Normal, I think you make a valid point.” He met Normal’s eyes, and he sucked in a breath, waiting for Hermie to tell him that he was a disappointment- one final blow that would leave him reeling for the rest of his high school career. “It is unfair. It’s unfair that someone put you into a role that you weren’t ready for, that doesn’t suit you, and one that clearly chafes, without giving you a simple way out. I… can relate.”
Normal sniffled, before frowning. “You can?”
“There have been times in my life where the unworthy title has been treated as all that I was. As your parents decided you were to be Normal, some people in my past understood that I was… unworthy in a more literal sense than only my name. And, outside of any characters or pretense, it’s unfair and I believe that you deserve better than being reduced to a compromise.”
“I don’t want to be the reason my family falls apart…”
“If your family is so fragile that it would fall apart the moment anyone acted in a way that deviated outside of the Norm, then perhaps it is undeserving of you, Normal.” Hermie seemed to notice that Normal looked unreassured, and added, “And you’re a child. Should it not be their job to meet you in the middle, not yours to cross to where they are and change yourself as a person so as to best make them happy?”
Normal’s family was built on compromise- little things, pretending things were just a bit different than they were, or larger ones- Normal’s mom was perfectly tolerant of everyone and believed that any two extremes were just as valid as each other, even if they truly weren’t, even if some extremes were cruel and harmful, and, sometimes, the two ‘extremes’ have wildly varying levels of extremity, and everyone tried to follow her lead, to meet everyone else where they were at, cross the wastelands of being entirely separate people so that they could all average out to being dead in the centre of everything.
And it wasn’t all bad; they were happy, most of the time. His family liked him, and loved him, and he liked and loved them, but they weren’t proud of him.
And, honestly? Maybe he wasn’t proud of them. Maybe he was disappointed in his dad for believing that he had to be normal to be happy- for believing that so strongly that he’d named his own son Normally, of all things, and a bit disappointed in his mom for not really… arguing with that point. She didn’t say she was disappointed, just pursed her lips and said that that was a feeling, and they both still liked and loved him, as if there wasn’t something to be said about how, when you had harmful opinions, or feelings, or whatever pride was considered, you were supposed to… rethink that, or something! You weren’t supposed to offload all that onto your kid and then assume that it was okay, just because you’d said that you still liked and loved him!
So… maybe Normal was tired of compromising, tired of being Norm and trying to live in a family where none of them could co-exist without compromising on even the smallest of things- everything from the colour of the walls to how Normal was parented to what colour the sky was could be compromised on- if, one day, Hero said that the sky was actually blue, Normal was certain his mom would say something about perception and how it was okay to have different perceptions of reality, and they’d all just accept that that was Hero’s opinion, because, in her mind, preserving the peace was more important than anything else.
With all of that in mind, Normal turned to Hermie.
“You’re… right.”
Hermie’s Joker persona might not have been very good for comfort, but he, on his own, was, in one way or another.
It was a few days after he talked to Hermie that he started wearing the mascot suit around again, trying not to be hyperaware of how annoyed people were by him- their opinions had never mattered before, because he was a representative of their spirit, a manifestation of the school’s energy, and… even if his dad had put a dampener on that idea, he still wanted to be that manifestation of school spirit. He still wanted to inspire confidence in Teen High.
He was nervous from the moment he got in the car- Uncle Lark was driving him to school, and, fortunately, he’d never really… cared that much about the whole mascot thing, so, if he even noticed the change, he didn’t say anything at all, luckily- but, when he arrived at the spot outside of school where his friends were waiting for him, he watched their expressions change in a… positive way.
Link’s eyes softened, and a smile spread partially across his face. “Norm- Normal, again? It’s great to see you!”
Normal waved back. “Normal, now,” He agreed, before realising that his voice was still the subdued version he’d been putting on to sound less annoying/peppy/generally loud, and taking a big breath before, in a louder voice, calling back, “Yeah! I’m going by Normal again!”
Taylor seemed largely unchanged, ever-present smirk as present as ever, but he fist-bumped Normal as he approached.
“Nice suit.”
Link visibly nudged Scary, giving her a look that was probably meant to encourage her to be nice to Normal (he frowned at that), and she rolled her eyes, pushing him away.
“It’s cool to, like, have you being true to yourself or whatever,” She grumbled, “Still hope your dad chokes on a sack of dicks.”
Coming from Scary Marlowe, Normal figured that was about as nice as he was going to get, and he felt his smile grow, even underneath the costume, where nobody could see his expression.
He glanced at Hermie to gauge his reaction, hoping he’d correctly judged their previous interaction, and Hermie glanced up from his script briefly to look Normal in the eyes- or as close to his eyes as Hermie could guess, what with the mascot suit and all- to give him a quiet smile and a thumbs-up, before going back to reading and memorizing.
“I’ve decided that I don’t want to make compromises regarding my identity anymore,” Normal stated. Or decided. He hadn’t really put any thought into this beforehand, not until he woke up this morning, saw the suit, and decided that he’d wear it for the first time in a while.
“That’s pretty metal,” Scary begrudgingly admitted, before the first bell rang and they all had to start towards class.
Normal: Wish me luck in talking to my parents tonight?
Lincoln: Good luck! Hope it goes well!
Taylor: if it doesnt, you can come over ot mine. mom wont care
Scary: And ill kick their asses if theyre assholes
Hermie: I hardly believe you’ll require luck, dearest Normal.
Hermie: You’re brilliant as you are, and your parents should see that.
“Normal!” His dad’s smile was too large, too forced, and clearly fake, now that Normal knew it wasn’t genuine pride- he didn’t like the way that Normal was; he liked him and loved him as his child, but, as a person… well, he'd made his opinions about Normal clear. “You’re… back in the mascot costume! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just a bit of a surprise, you know, it’s-”
“Dad.” Normal’s voice came out abnormally forceful, which he might have felt guilty for, if they were having any different conversation tonight. No compromises, he reminded himself, no changing things that aren’t actually hurting anyone to be more palatable. He cleared his throat, glancing at his mom and Uncle Lark. “I want to talk to all of you.”
Immediately, Uncle Lark sat up, looking him in the eyes seriously, as if certain Normal was about to drop something terrible on them. More slowly, his mom turned to give Normal his full attention. His dad sat down and politely waited for Normal to start speaking, same forced smile on his face. His mom had a matching one.
“You’re not proud of me.” He’d rehearsed some of this, Hermie had advised that scripts could be useful, even if you diverged from them, in keeping your thoughts in order.
His dad cringed. “Normal, I-”
“No, it’s…” He sighed. “Actually, you know what? It’s not fine. My own dad is disappointed in me, and thinks there’s something wrong with me being the way I am, and it took talking to one of my friends to realise that that’s not my fault, or because there’s something wrong with me. That’s pretty fucked up, actually.”
“Normal, language,” His mom scolded lightly, but she was frowning in a way that indicated more that she was thinking than that she was upset.
“Normal…” Lark put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and shook his head, Sparrow visibly deflating.
“You guys keep expecting me to compromise on who I am. You don’t want me to be a mascot, or to care about the things I care about, or to act the way I do! You want a sanitised version of your son, one who isn’t as hard to manage, or- or as much as I am, but that’s not who I am as a person, dad.”
He felt tears starting to burn at his eyes, but pushed them away angrily, not done talking yet.
“And mom! You might be proud of me, I don’t know. I’m starting to think you probably aren’t, that none of you are proud of Normal, and you all wish I was someone else, but, either way, you, especially, expect compromise! You want Dad to pretend he isn’t disappointed in me, and me to pretend I’m not the person he’s disappointed in… the person I am. And you want me to not be hurt by that, or at least not to talk about it, because God forbid we actually talk about how everyone else in this family makes us feel! And, you know what? While we’re talking about people we’re disappointed in, I think I’m pretty disappointed in you, Dad. It’s okay to have feelings, but, when those feelings leave you feeling disappointed in your son because of things he can’t control, you’re supposed to examine your implicit biases. You’re supposed to figure out why you feel that way, and, rather than justifying it, find a way to fix it! Talk to a therapist if it’s about you, or whatever it is that’s going to help you, but don’t blame me for your feelings.”
He’d looked some of that up. Some of it probably wasn’t entirely fair, but the examining one’s implicit biases bit was something that Hermie had suggested when he mentioned it- that his dad had dealt with a lot as a child, some things he wouldn’t explain the full scope of that Normal knew had been… upsetting, and probably part of the reason he felt the way he did about Normal. It didn’t make it any less upsetting- he had a reason to think that way, but he still hadn’t actually thought about why that was in any meaningful way.
He hadn’t tried to be proud of his son, and Normal wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving at the moment.
Tears finally began to fall, and he let them, turning away to sniffle and rub at his eyes with the hand not holding the mascot head.
“I… I’m so sorry, Normal. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know you didn’t mean it. You didn’t mean to let me know, you didn’t mean to feel that way, you probably didn’t even mean to have me, at this rate, that doesn’t help. You can not mean things and they can still hurt people.”
His dad was quiet for a moment.
“You’re… right, Normal,” He offered tentatively, “I was… I just want you to be happy, and the whole mascot thing… the world doesn’t look very kindly on-”
“You know what?” Normal snapped. “You know what? The world doesn’t act kindly towards people like me. But you were supposed to be one of my cheerleaders, not a- not a fucking vice principal.”
He took a few long, careful breaths. Deep inhale, long exhale…
“I’m going to spend the night at Taylor’s,” He decided, “And we can… talk about this tomorrow.”
When he was less wound-up. That had been a lot, and, honestly? He kind of wanted to make his dad sit in thinking about it, rather than jumping to excuses and justifications and split-second assumptions. To feel bad like he’d made Normal feel bad- not for long, or anything, just until Normal was ready to talk, this time.
Or… ready to talk again. Strangely, that had been about as emotionally draining as it was cathartic, and, at the end of it, he still felt pretty empty.
Nobody argued when he left the house and called Taylor.
Taylor arrived in one of his mom’s cars, warning Normal as he entered the house that the others- excluding Hermie, who was busy but had sent ahead a message of support- had already arrived.
“Hey, Normal, probably not feeling great, huh, buddy?” Link offered sympathetically.
Normal screamed into one of Taylor’s numerous pillows in response.
“We’re going to talk about it tomorrow,” He grumbled, “When I feel less like I’m going to explode. I want… let’s do something distracting tonight. Watch a movie or something. I feel like shit.”
“You need us to kick your dad’s ass?”
He sighed. “No… we actually will talk about it tomorrow, probably. I’m just mad right now, and I took it out on him, some, and I don’t want to try having this conversation while I’m still wound up like this.”
“Did I hear… movie?” Taylor asked, grin crossing onto his face.
“Give me the fucking remote,” Scary grumbled, but didn’t put up much of a fight when Taylor moved out of her reach and began picking a movie, just muttering something about him having shitty taste in movies.
The movie that Taylor picked was incomprehensible without watching its 23 former parts, but calming to watch with the others while Scary made fun of it, Taylor defended it, and Link provided random commentary and questions that occupied the middle ground between them.
And, if they all fell asleep at some point during either it or its sequel, the 25th part in the series? Well, it was comfortable. Nice. Normal felt good, in that moment, being Normal Oak- not Norm Oak or any other character (in this moment, not even Teenie the Teen), just… Normal.
(Who was not very lowercase n normal, but that was pretty okay, actually, and something that his father did end up reconciling with. And, after some further thought, something that he accepted with significantly less judgement than before.)