The Chosen Cursed One

Zero's POV

     It's been a few weeks since I moved classes. It's getting exhausting hearing all of the fangirls, and sometimes fanboys, talk about me. It kinda makes me wanna kill someone.

     Or stab someone.

     Or high five someone in the face.

     With a chair.

     On fire.

     Down stairs.

     And into a pool of acid.

     Yeah, I'm moody. Kaname described me as, and I quote, "You're a little girl on her period."

     So I've holed myself up in Kaname's room, wanting desperately for the world to go away. I'm tired of being talked about it, I'm tired of the fangirls and guys stalking me. It's excruciating.

     I close my eyes slowly, wanting to melt into Kaname's bed. I turn onto my side and bury my face in his pillow. The smell of him is extremely comforting.

     I remember that my iPod is stuck on his bedside table, so I pick it up. Maybe the music mixed with Kaname's scent will help me fall asleep. I put on my headphones, turning up the music to a deafening volume.

     The song is 'Hate my Life' by Theory of a Deadman. It describes exactly how I feel right now.

     And Kaname isn't here to make me feel better. I mean, I know skipping classes isn't good, but I'm so sick and tired of the screaming girls and boys.

     Girls. So dramatic and complicated.

     This.

     This is why I'm gay.