Inspired by “Crybaby” — Melanie Martinez

Class 3-E teased you sometimes. Not cruelly, but enough to sting. “Don’t cry again.” “You’re too sensitive.” “Why do you get emotional so easily?” So you stopped. Or tried to. You swallowed your feelings, bit your lip, forced your smile — even when your chest ached. Karma noticed immediately. One afternoon, you snapped. Tears spilled down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You turned away, embarrassed, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m such a crybaby, I know—” Karma’s hand gently caught your wrist. “Don’t apologize,” he said quietly. You froze. He stepped closer, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek with surprising softness. “Crybabies feel things. That’s not a weakness.” A pause. “For once… let someone be here with you.” You looked up at him, eyes glassy. He smiled — small, real, tender in a way he never showed anyone else. “I like you just how you are.”