LOSER
Description
"Ew. Goldfish"
"Don't go that way. It’s a place for fags"
"Disgusting fags"
"Goldfish"
"Gays"
Close your eyes and try to ward off the tormenting voices... you can't. It's hard.
Two hands entwined around each other, hold on tight. All you have in this world is each other.
You face your back to the voices. It doesn't stop them from hitting your ears, it doesn't stop it from piercing your heart - but at least you don't have to see the disgust written on faces that once used to smile at you.
You see their reflection on the glass before you, however. Their hatred, their disappointment: and your scared trembling selves.
On the other side of the glass, oblivious to the discrimination, two goldfish circle each other. You place your hand on the glass, the human beside you does the same.
You're a girl. She's a girl.
Does it matter?
You are both humans.
Does it really matter?
No- you are no longer humans.
You are goldfish.
You have a lump in your throat. She squeezes your hand - and you know you both have the same wish...
Can't we be on the other side of the glass... away from humans...?
Can’t we just be…
…dead?
*
A/N:
Hey guys! So I’m back again with a new fanfic.
Warning y’all ahead of time: I’m not sure if this will be another one of my many unfinished fanfics or not- Sue me, I start writing as soon as the idea pops into my head and ideas are like daisies popping in the snow, so yes, when I find a new one, I tend to drop the one I was holding for a while ^-^”
There’s no need to say where I got the inspiration for this one from: Big Bang’s “LOSER” Damn, the feels in that song! Just listening to it put me into depression- therefore, the angst.
And no, this is not a Big Bang fanfic (I have yet to write one) but I am debating whether or not to introduce Big Bang in the latter half. This fanfic is about TAO from Exo (and yeah… It’s about him leaving) Sorry guys, I told you. Angst.
Btw, I should probably explain the nickname “goldfish” for gays. The incidents in this fanfic (especially the first scene in chapter one) is from one of my dreams (It was happening to me, for some reason, not Tao) and there were two lesbians upstairs in the dream, referred to as “goldfish” and since this dream was my second inspiration… well, I’m staying true to it.
So- Sorry about the weird name. (Hopefully you’d get used to it and stop sniggering each time you read it? …were yall laughing at it?)
Okay- never mind that. Enjoy. Cry. Whatever.
*
Foreword
I am a goldfish.
I was born this way.
I've always known it.
It has always been there... fantasizing about my hyungs when others my age were ogling at the changing bodies of girls in our grade; the rush of blood to my lower region when I even thought of moving my face closer to guys, to feel their breath on my lips, was a constant reminder. Over the years, I had learnt to hide it; I had learnt to cover up the truth when personal questions were asked. Blood would rush to my face, and lie after lie would spill from my lips.
SIN WILL FIND YOU
And with each lie, the burden of guilt weighing me down grew heavier.
I was a terrible person, and I knew it, but I kept living on the same way I always did: lusting on my best friend, wishing his hands down my pants, touching me, but never breathing a word about it to anyone.
The worst part was hiding it from the world. No one but I knew. And the guilt grew.
Each time my friends smiled at me, I found it hard to fake a smile and twitch my lips upwards.
They don’t know, I keep telling myself, they have no idea...
'You think they'll still be your friends if they knew?' that taunting voice at the back of my head asks me every day, like a mocking ritual. 'You deceive them each day of your measly life. You think they want to befriend a lying goldfish? You think they ask to be lusted on by people their own gender; you think they—'
I always cover my ears, crank up the volume of the only savior I have ever found: music; yell, even.
Countless times, when I'm alone, in the dark, on top of a tall building, staring at the ant-like people crawl below, I have been tempted to yell so that the skies could hear: "I'm a goldfish, you hear!? I'm gay!"
But all that ever escapes my lips is a feeble whisper:
"I'm a loser"
*
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