Beneath the Mask

Chapter 1

I'm ugly. Seriously. It might be because of my low self-esteem, or my depression, but I am ugly. I mean here I am, staring at my ugly form in a mirror in the morning. My room is a constant mess, books everywhere, along with the cases of my video games, and other things I've collected. My television lies in a corner onto of a shelving unit that is triangular in shape, made up by six sides, three being the general triangle, and three being short lines connecting the three main sides of the triangle, forming a right angle with one side so that it becomes a perfectly square place that my video games and DVDs can be stored. That is shoved against a corner, with a bookcase next to it that comes up to the windowsill of one of the two windows in my room. Both the shelving unit and my book case have three levels and—

Am I delaying describing my looks? Sorry. I thought I would spare you the horror, but I guess I will describe how I am.

I'm seventeen years old. Gay. Gay AF actually. My voice is higher than all the other boys, feminine in a way. If I gave a shit about my body, I suppose I could be a twink, maybe a trap if I actually wanted to have some fun, but I don't, so I'm not. Instead through self-esteem issues and depression, my body looks lumpy. Like a potato. An ugly potato. A gay ugly potato. A gay, ugly, hideous, snarky, vile, worthless teenage potato. Yeah that'll work. My hair is a boring brown, laying flat on my head doing nothing. I have to keep it a certain length, ear-length, otherwise I look uglier than I already am. My eyes are nice, I guess, they're a weird blue, looking not like sapphires but lapis lazuli. I'm not exactly tall, yet not exactly short. I'm in the average middle with a five foot seven, which I will be cursed to be at for the rest of my life. I don't know how much I weigh, but I would guess I'm around one hundred and eighty pounds.

One hundred and eighty pounds of ugly. And you guys are stuck with me. I am so, so sorry.

...

...

Sorry about that, I'm just not use to this, you know, talking. Anyway, today's the first day of my school year. I'm... not known at school. I mean, they know my name, I think, but most kids there pay more attention to my friend. My only friend... and neighbor.

"Hey! John!" A voice I'm all familiar with says. I move to the window and open it, sticking my head off to see my best friend and the one person I care most about smiling up at me.

Fionn Quinn. He is everything I'm not. He's tall, handsome, and beautiful. His red hair is stylized and looks perfect to comb your fingers through, his eyes are a sparkling green, a huge rarity. He's muscular, his body perfectly developed through a mixture of natural genes and a rigorous workout. I should know, I always go out for burgers when he's done. His voice is deep, masculine, and has a nice Irish accent. He's dress in a sports shirt and jeans, a stereotypic look for a member of the football team, but it looks great on him. For some reason he smiles at me and waves.

"Come on down John, I'm driving you to school!" he calls out. In a moment of weakness, I've smile as well and wave at him, my heart fluttering. Stupid sexy bisexual Fionn.

"I'll be down in a bit," I call out and close my window as I turn to my dresser. Giving a long, deep sigh I opened a drawer and did not pay attention as I dress myself. It did not matter what I wear, nobody sees me. Dress in a shirt and jeans I made my way outside, taking my backpack with me. As usual, mom and dad did not even say goodbye to me, or I to them.

"Come on Johnny boy, lighten up and give me a smile," Fionn says. He swung an arm around my shoulders and I had to fight a blush crawling across my cheeks. I'm too ugly for feelings like this, idiot, I scowl at myself. But either by his influence or my heart, a smile broke along my ugly face.

"There we are, Johnny boy," Fionn says. "You have a good smile, show it off. We're seniors this year, and we have to find a sexy boy for you! And a sexy person for me." He winks at me and laughs. I give a weak smile and laugh as well as Fionn leads me to his car.

It was a beautiful old red mustang, "The perfect sex car," he likes to say with a wink. I always feel guilty going in there, I'm too ugly, and far from important enough to be in this car, let alone be with Fionn. Swallowing any guilt inside me, I climb into the back of the mustang, and picture that I'm in a car deserving my ugliness.

"Smile Johnny boy come on," Fionn says, looking back at me. I offer a weak one as Fionn starts the car, the engine purring smoothly. "Right! Here we go! John, we are going to find love and get laid by the end of the year! I'm sure of it!" Fionn cheers, and he pulls out onto the street.

I only can feel dread.