Blonde highlighted spiky hair to the heavens. Having begun my training so young, by the time I was actually legally able to drink I had cultivated quite the twink aesthetic. I was rebellious, angsty, but also damned crafty: I forged a fake membership card to the local disco by scanning my provisional driver's license, editing the birth date, and laminating the edited print-out opposite a downloaded JPEG of the club's logo from the their website. Tired of being the punchline of my hetero peers' jokes, I desperately searched for a community to call my own. I started going to gay bars when I was 15.
