Fortississimo[DISCONTINUED]

𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬

I don't have many friends. The ones who said they were my friends turned on me, leaving me to die in the arena of social relationships. My parents helped none, saying they love me, but talk is cheaper than a $10 toy marked at 90% off.

The only thing I have for comfort is my guitar, and videos of a boy named Felix Madden. We're about the same age, but he's had a better life than me. A way better one. He's won Guitarist of the Year two times already, and he's going for three.

I wish I could meet him...why didn't I take bass lessons?

I walk down my hallway, the air as icy as trauma's grip on my heart, and I'm trembling with every step. I wait for the booming sound of my mother's voice to scold me, to make me feel worthless. I see her silhouette standing at the end of the hall, her gaze piercing though me like a two-edged sword.

"Kieran", she spoke, her voice breaking the silence between us.

"Yes?" I reply. My voice is but a whisper.

"Me and your father want to talk to you about what we saw on your computer."

Oh. So that's why I couldn't find it earlier. I stagger toward her, entering the room I once loved, the room I used to barge into with a smile on my face. But now, I take my time, carefully executing each step, as if the floor has been laced with traps on every plank.

My father makes a gesture for me to have a seat, and my breath comes out in shaky, rushed huffs.

"Why is your entire search history "Felix Madden"? That's all we want to know, you don't even play bass, so why is he so intriguing to you?" My father asked, with that one tone that implied that he already knew the answer, so there was no lying. Just the truth, the full truth and nothing but the truth.

But I lied anyway.

"I wanted to play along with him, so I would play one of his videos, and just....jam."

"Does it have to do with your disease- sorry, 'orientation'?" ...Disease? Is that really what I had? A sickness, that could be cured with therapy? Could I really be coaxed into liking women again? Could I?

If only. "...It might. But, there is nothing wrong with liking guys." I say, but my voice breaks as I try my best to sound like I'm not crying.

"From now on, your device will have parental controls on it. If you dare even look up how to bypass these controls, you will be eternally sorry."

...Why? Why do they always try to ruin me? Why?

I know most people would tell me to get over myself and stop whining like a baby. But honestly, once you've dealt with this type of shit for 6-ish years plus, you get used to people saying that you're overreacting. So it doesn't faze me.

It's normal.