Mao sighs, leaning his head in his arms that lie on the railing of a bridge you and him stood on. "Where do I even start...? Oh right, is it bad that I feel like I was lying when I said I don't care about what others think of me? Because... I-I do. I wish people could see me as something good, but..." he trails off, lulling his head to not face you anymore as a hiccup of a sob begins from him.