[REWRITTEN] (The Monster x The Angel) [Lui x Valt]

Chapter 6

Valt's POV:

“I lost my family when I was only seven years old, by no fault of my own,” I said, thinking about how I was going to word this without giving too much information away, this being the first time I’ve ever had to do this. I’m placing my full faith in Lui. I hope he doesn’t betray me later on, because if he does, then I might be screwed. The wonder boy is supposed to be all beyblade and beybread, whether he wants to be or not.

“What?” He asked, staring at me, confused. This could be the stupidest thing I have ever done, but I’m prepared to face the consequences. Nobody will believe him, anyway, so I’m not too worried.

Valt, don’t do it. He’s not worth it.

“My brother and I were put into care when he was nine, and I was seven. Less than a year later, I got adopted, and my brother found fame. I wasn’t able to speak to him until we found each other again about three months ago.” I looked at him with a sad smile, trying not to cry at the memories that came rushing back when I briefly explained my story. I played with the strings of my hoodie, trying to calm myself down. I have to do what I have to do to make a miracle happen. I need him to come to the light. He needs some hope in his life.

Everybody deserves a little bit of hope in their life - even if it kills them. It makes them forget about all their problems, even if it’s just for a moment. For a period of time, no matter how long or short that is, they are free, and it is beautiful.

Many people say that I’m just a child, and so I don’t understand these kinds of beauties, but I do - they’re something that are quite rare to catch a glimpse of, but seeing people regain hope that they haven’t had for such a long time is one of the most purest beauties in this world, and I get to witness that a lot more than most, which, a lot of the time, makes my job worth it. Even if it’s not a ‘proper’ job, I will cherish what I do until the day I die. It’s one of the few things I have going that make life worth the trek, and I am blessed to have such abilities, I’m aware of that, but being the hero can be so tiring.

As children, we all imagine becoming heroes in which we are soaring through the skies or powers of inhumane ability. But we all grew up, and some of us came to the conclusion that being the villain has much more perspective than anyone thought. And that’s where we go wrong, as a society. We idolise the wrong people - people, who in real life, do not win most of the time. No child ever says they want to be a villain when they’re older. The heroes are written so the villain would seem colder. It didn’t matter if they laughed like the Joker or smiled like Harley before they realised they had broken her or wore hearts like the Queen of Hearts. Villains' personalities are always gonna be broken glass. Another puzzle for the hero to fix. But nobody ever notices the glass pieces shine as they mix.

They hated Cruella for being out of her mind, but they never spoke about how they were never kind. They were written to be evil; never given moments to be the hero's equal. They hated Mother Gothel for trying to stay young, hated how she grew prettier with every word that she had sung. But people will always complain when they grow old; never agree with Mother Gothel because she didn’t have hair of gold.

They failed to understand Maleficent beyond the curse; never realised how much her heart had hurt. The villains are never loved yet expected to love. Lies about the villain are easily sold. The truth is hidden that they are constantly fighting the world. They don’t have long hair that glows or beautiful names that everyone knows. They don’t meet their one true love. They are only ever seen as weapons used to draw blood.

They don’t show up in children’s dreams because they were written for their screams. What nobody notices is that the villain is the hero. Because they keep fighting despite drowning alone in sorrow. Not everyone grows up to be a princess. Not everyone meets their soulmate with a stare so intense. Some people are born to be even greater. Even though their names were never written down in history or on paper, they stand out and they are unique. They have voices but people hate when they speak.