One
One
〜
I picked up my backpack—actually I rolled it, dang crooked spine means I gotta use dang luggage backpacks—then I literally threw it in the back of the car. I just had my worst morning ever. The first morning after deleting my social media account. Now I have no comments to heart, none to reply to, no happiness. Their comments gave me so much encouragement, they genuinely supported me. They believed in me, that I could make it.
Because of my parents. Because of them, I couldn’t make it. I was so, so close. I could’ve made money. It’s like they don’t want me to make it. Ugh. Man, what’s the point of life?
Anyway, before my dad or mom comes, I start scrolling. The first thing that comes up is the k-pop group DR34MERS. Fricking enjoying their life. They look so free, free to express themselves, because there’s nothing to hide. Nothing. They’re beautiful, everyone loves them, it’s almost illegal to hate them. They have a perfect body, perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect attitude, perfect, perfect, perfect…
Compared to them, I look chopped! As heck! How the helly do they have that body? If I had that body, I would be so happy, I would never eat pizza again! They make it seem so easy.
I keep scrolling, everything DR34MERS, DR34MERS, DR34MERS…so slay! I’m a SO4R!!! DR34M- ERS FOR LIFE, YES GIRLY! Man, I can’t handle this crap. Why do I depend my life on DR34MERS. They don’t pay the mortgage, they don’t buy the groceries, man, they don’t even KNOW me. It’s so stupid. Heck, I’M so stupid. I’ve become one of them. The over obsessive fans that would give anything just to have their album and go to their concerts.
There’s this one stupid meme that goes “Obsessed with this luxury? SLAY!” That’s it. No catch, no humor.
Dumb as heck. I’m literally a fan and a hater at the same time. They call the haters N1GHTM4R3S, and the fans S04RS. I guess you could say I’m a N1GHTS04R. Or a S04RM4R3. Can you even read that?
I hear the garage door open, which literally jumpscares me. I put my phone down, as calmly as possible, and try to look normal, so my dad doesn’t start again about the phone.
We don’t talk. He drives, old school rap music on the radio, occasionally checking his phone for who-knows-what. Finally, we get to my school, Harbor View Middle School, so I get off the car, get my backpack, and leave. This place sucks so bad. Do you know what I would rather do? Go to that nearby cliff and jump—
Sure is a harboly view.
I used to go to find Emma and we would immediately start yapping, good and all. But that was if only she couldn’t find any other friends that she thinks are better than me. Not saying I’m better than them, just saying that sometimes she could literally ignore me—and I mean LITERALLY, not even showing a little bit notice—just because she’s talking to someone else. When I’m talking to a friend, if MY bestie came, I would’ve made notice and made her part of the conversation. Why would she treat me like that?
Anyway, ever since our breakup, the only thing that changed was her having a backup friend, which she now doesn’t. I was that backup friend, and I became more of one the more years passed. I never realized it until I saw how differently she was treating me compared to others. I swear, there’s this one girl that she talked to for a week, and now they’re best friends!? Like, I thought it might take longer to be best friends, but how come she can make friends with anyone in 2 seconds, but it’s taking so long for me!? This obviously shows that she doesn’t care for me. She doesn’t understand how many times she made me feel like I don’t matter without taking a second thought. Does she even care?! How many times do I have to go through fake friends and breakups??
There was this one time that made me feel a feeling I don’t ever want to feel again. Basically, there was one table. A girl named CC and Emma were sitting next to each other, talking about a movie from one of the periods. I was across from them. I wasn’t talking much because I was working on something. But I decided to add an idea of what I thought would happen later in the movie. Nothing deep, right?
I was then shot 57 times.
Emma asked me a question that I still ask myself to this day: Are you stupid? She had genuine disgust in her eyes, like I said the most bizarre and absurd statement EVER. She was talking about this movie where this guy was gooning on this girl, and I added the fact that they might date later. The WORST part is, they DID date later on!! HOW DOES THAT FEEL, DUMBA—
I didn’t reply or talk that period. Genuinely in my opinion, that stabbed me. Do people not think before they speak? I wish I had said something. But I really wanted her to like me. So I kept quiet.
The school bell does its Temu-ripoff ring, and I roll that ugly black backpack to period 1, Art.
It’s okay. I don’t need Emma.
➷➷➷
“Okay, everyone, get out your folders. Today, we are going to jump into the new unit: Perspective in Art. Please write in your planners ‘Perspective in Art: Lesson 1.’” Ms. Mallier points at her board with her iconic paintbrush named Pailey Paint. Dumb name. Man, am I so negative.
“Time for attendance! Amy?”
“Here.”
“Billy?”
“Here!”
“Catherine?”
“Here.”
“Dominick?”
“Present.”
Tryna be special, are you?
“Ella?”
“Here.”
“Fe—oh, Lord, help me—Felix?”
“I am HERE, Missus ma’am! I am ready to enter the absolutely mesmerizing unit of—dun dun dun—PERSPECTIVE! I so canNOT wait for my learning experie—”
“That’s enough. Gregoriante?”
“Here ya, teach!”
“How are you feeling, young lady–I mean sir—I mean—”
“I GO BY THEY. And yes, I’m doing okay.”
Who’s they? Okay, okay, OKAY I’M SORRY—
“What’s that you said, QUILLERY REX TORIELLE?” Oh yeah. That’s my name. My parents did not love me.
“Nothing.”
“Are you SURE?? Cuz I’m 99.23456987598372 percent sure that I HEARD you ask a very inappropriate question. Can you repeat that please?” THEY scream. THEIR voice bleeds my ears.
“I said I said nothing.”
“Oh, you want to play the hard way, do you?”
That period, my ears weren’t the only ones bleeding. Lemme get it straight:
THEY swinged their fist straight at my jaw, but even with all of THEM bundled up, THEY weren’t as strong as I thought THEY would be. Gregoriante was the only one who swung, not the rest of THEIR invisible friends. Long story short, I’m in the nurse’s with a wet ice pack on my nose. Great morning.
