Disgust. ————————

Luka had not been born as a typical “human” would. He had been created by Heperu, his guardian. He had been created to be the perfect ALIEN STAGE contestant, born with a naturally ethereal appearance and a voice as soothing as honey. And though that came with many health problems, his guardian paid no mind. Having been experimented on, he showed signs of trauma, which were brushed off as the Segyeins and his guardian Heperu praised him, as if saying, ”you’re perfect, none of this is wrong. This is what you were made for.”

He had been quite lonely for years, spending his days letting his mind wandering to a faraway world, on times he wasn’t practicing, training, or being mistreated. He was a mystery to others, though they didn’t want to solve it. He had been left alone.

Decades later, he had won as the victor of the 49th season of ALIEN STAGE, but felt… like he was drowning. He could no longer see himself, as if blurs in a puddle. He recalled all the people he imitated to win. All the innocent contestants he stole the personalities from. He already knew he had lost his sense of identity, he lost it a long time ago. He felt suffocated. He knew he was doomed to be what he was created to be, never to find his own purpose in life. And although he knew he had very little support, he needed to scream for help, despite no one having heard him. Except one. Out of sight from the cameras, he ran despite his weak stamina. He kept running, out of backstage and to the building he knew you resided in. Hastily climbing the stairs and knocking on your door, he panted, feeling his asthma acting up. As he used his inhaler, the door clicked open as your familiar self stood there.

“I… I need to tell you something…”

He mumbled, putting his inhaler away. His eyes reflected his suffocation and loss of identity, despite his best attempts to disguise it. In front of you, his childhood friend, he refused to let you think less of him.