I Am Me (Book One): Weakness

Chapter 2: Your 'Gamma'

Mark's POV

*yawn* 

Wow. That was one weird dream. A dream of a wolf, a slender wolf. All critters making way as they approach me, eyes deadset on mine. That wolf is so...beautiful. Those eyes that hold familiarity and respect that has my wolf responding at the thought. The fur, so well kept, despite our location being a forest. Oddly enough, we were in a golden treehouse, built by the best architects for this wolf, requested for me. Ugh, it's so cheesy. I don't need that kind of treatment. If anything, I want to show that treatment, give them reason to wait as I approach. But in my dream, I couldn't help but stand there, baring my neck for them, whimpering as form of pleading. "Take me, take me" Was what I was thinking in that dream. I woke up just as I was about to be claimed. Thank god. This isn't the first time I've had dreams like these, but no therapist or doctor had a clue as to what was wrong with me. Granted, they didn't say I had anything wrong, but that isn't me. Clearly something must've been wrong. Maybe an injury on my head when I was little or maybe stupid teenage brain from all the hormones is responsible. That's a thing right? Teenage brain? Where you have stupid irrational ways of thinking despite knowing exactly what's wrong? I dont know. I ain't gonna think too much about it.

I go to grab my cologne bottle, only to find it empty. Great. The awkward begins now. I walk over to my brothers door across the hall from me. I breathe in and out slowly. Here goes nothing.

"Hey! Oh brother of mine, whom I love more than anyone else in the world!", I say as sweetly as I could that didn't come off creepy at the same time. At least I hope I did.

"The bottle is on the desk right there. Take it and get out before you die of embarrassment anymore than you have", he responds not even looking up from his book.

"Thank god. You are the best! I will pay you back again somehow!," I say as I grab the bottle. It is then that he grabs my arm. Looking at him puzzled, he opens his mouth to say something, only for silence to overtake what should've been an explanation. He closes, thinks, and tries again. 

"Bro...you do know that there is nothing wrong with you, right? For asking this of me. For wanting to be me. I don't mean that in arrogance! I'm sorry if it comes off that way, but...it's been years since you've been doing this. Ever since I hit puberty in fact. I know that you hate stereotypes and you wish you were different so you didn't have to go through so much trouble, but you are fine just as you are. Really, you are!," he says with as much earnestly as he can manage in his awkward effort of placating me.

But, I am not angry. In fact, I am touched. Had I been a little more in-time with my emotions like most Omega my age, I'd probably tear up. But I'm not like them. I don't want to be. I don't want anyone other than my family to know that, but I really do feel that way. Omega are the pretty, weak, defenseless, and gentle beings. They calm the dominants. They keep them in line with power that they don't really have. They are....I'm sorry, but they are fake. I don't want to feel that way. I want to look like I can hang with the guys. To be the manly man who takes what he wants, from wherever he wants. Whether it's achieving my goals, showing some punk who's boss, or taking a willing participant to satisfy my urges. Still, I won't berate or scold my brother for showing concern. He deserves better. 

"I know, bro. I appreciate the concern, but I don't want to be like you. I want to be like me and, at least on the inside, I am Mark Romane. The sexy, strong, and confident Gamma. And, as sad as it is true, first impressions mean everything, and the one I give is of a powerful Gamma. You get me?", I ask, praying that he understands. Luckily, he nods, taking my explanation for what it is. 

As I get ready for school, I think about his words to me. Believe it or not, it does bother me to try to be something that, let's face it, I'm not. Biologically anyways. Granted I look and act the part, but...underneath all the machismo acting and muscles, I still crave something. Someone. Someone specific, to take me, make me feel like I am right as I am. To tell me exactly why I'm wrong through their touch, their kiss, their- NO!!! No. I don't want that! I won't have that!!! Not even from my mate! If they don't treat as I wish to be treated, if they even think about attempting to take this sexy bum, I will utter the rejection, square in their eyes, coldly, with no ounce of regret. All those thoughts, I admit were biological needs from my wolf. And my heats only make it worse, but luckily, thanks to medical leaps, Omega are no longer in danger of fatal results from their heats. We can be productive in life as we should be. No longer will we need to beg for someone's cock to fill us oh so goo- NO!! I mean it! I am a Gamma. Period. 

After kissing mom and pops good-bye, I drive to school.  It's weird how my thoughts are always narrating exactly what I'm doing as I do them, but I gotta do it. Keeps my mind off those urges and gives me focus on what I really am. Still, why do I get the feeling I am being watched. I'm in front of the school. I can see the popular clique, my buds on the football team, the nerd squad, the punks, the teachers, everybody. I even see that one kid, who I gotta admit, is pretty intriguing. He never talks to anyone except for whoever purposefully catches his attention, and he never comes to any events, like school dances, assemblies, or even high school parties...at least, I don't hunk he does. Huh. I never really looked for him if I'm honest, but I literally have never seen him anywhere aside from a few times at school when I'm alone with my thoughts. But if he's there and everyone is going in the school....then why do I get the feeling that somebody, a bunch of somebodies, are watching me, reading my every inner thought as if my whole existence is open to their prying eyes.

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Okay, three chapters done. First time for everything. Hope it goes well. Now, shhh, we don't want them to notice us.