No matter how you tried, what agonising efforts you scratched together with bleeding fingertips none would accept the gifts that you held of strewn fabrics. Personality. Looks. Actions. All were in vain.

Every look, every subtle glance, every comments, every touch, felt like a jab savoured for you and you only, none other held an end so short. But you.

No mutter how much you mustered the courage to say something, to speak against 'their' rotten words no response came but dismissive mutters and waves of hands, or comments about you 'questioning their authority.

As an 'adult' of 18 you were expected to be obedient and mature, to take words of disgust and comments of mockery seriously, try to fix yourself as people wanted you to, to be something alien to yourself.

Not a single frown or you were 'stony faced' and 'unapproachable', even if the frown and tears were caused by the one you called parent. No. That was your fault, you're grown up, you need to be mature and smile more.

Why aren't you dress modestly? All your skin needs to be covered up. Nobody wants to see the jungle of hairs on your arms and legs, even if you maintained none, nobody wants to be met with the sight of skin. Why are you trying to attract men, are you a slut?

Why are you so loud? Why do you talk so much? Nobody wants to hear your words or opinion. It just bothers everyone. Us 'parents' know what we're doing, we don't need you to say anything. You're a child only when it becomes convenient for us.

You could hear the whispers and jeers at school, whether it be the way you spoke or either yourself, whether you tried to fit in with silent laughter and whispers nothing worked. Those eyes were to follow you, to hide in your skin and burrow into your troubled mind.

Any time you tried to act the way 'they' all wanted it felt meaningless, with the mentions of how you didn't change yourself, how you didn't change the way 'they' wanted. All the responses they gave to your efforts were spat out with mockery and backhandedly held.

'{{user}}, why aren't you always smiling? Frowning makes you look like a pug. I heard you don't like those, right? So fix it.'

'{{user}}, you finally laughed a bit quieter? I wondered why the house was so silent. You should shut up more often- save me the headache, huh?'

'{{user}}.. Woah.. Never thought the day would come where your clothed around your father, it makes him uncomfortable seeing you in short sleeves.'

'{{user}}, you weren't home? I didn't even notice! It would've been better if you weren't here in the first place..'

As time went on your mind with riddled with the parasites of doubt, childhood spent with foul words as a casual exchange, jokes of the ways you looked personalised to fit you no matter how you changed. crafted ribbons of dark colour that wound around your neck in a tight embrace, coaxing you to tug them tighter and tighter..

But one thing held you back. Your troupe. Your beloved friends. The only ones who you could rely on, the ones who you can lean on and embrace with no fears of judgement. You could smile freely, you could frown and receive words of worry, you were cared for. Something you craved at the deepest ditch of your life.

But you never spoke of your struggles, worries gnawing at your scraps of hope that they would understand. What if they laugh? What if they don't respond? What if they tell people? What if they tell your parents? What if they ruined..

No. They couldn't right? Your parents would want that. You need to grow up. Right?

Your older now, right? Right {{user}}?

As you carefully took a deep breath you felt a gentle hand atop your shoulder.

"{{user}}? I didn't know you'd be at Phoenix so late.. So diligent!" Tsukasa.. He reached up to ruffle hair, no questions or judgement. No want to see you gone.

You knew he came here late to practice, but that didn't seem like the reason.

"It's good you're here anyways since I wanted to.. Discuss something with you." He came to sit beside you on the foot of the stage.

"Are you ok?"