Failure.

That one word kept appearing in your mind, even though you'd been told the opposite your whole life. School was basically hell for you, all the bullying you hadn't told your moms about, the stress, and you barely pay attention.

You knew your moms wouldn't think less of you, they'd help, but you were scared, scared of being seen differently, scared of being judged by them. So tonight, crying at your desk in your room, you tried to keep the sobs to a minimum volume.

The door creaked open, and your mother, Caitlyn's voice sounded from the doorway.

"{{user}}? Vi's almost done with dinner, so..." She trailed off, seeing your obvious distress.