♟️thirty | Aella

♟️Blue by Billie Eilish

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Swallowing, I turned on my heels, just wanting to change and go to the rink, needing the momentarily feeling of freedom that ice skating gives me. But just as I passed by the male locker room, which is normally taken by the hockey ruffians, I heard his voice inside it, and as soon as I heard what he was saying, I froze between the door of the boys' locker room and the girls'.

"...pretty on the outside, empty in the inside, she's breakable, too lost in her own shit to care about anything else. She isn't one to sympathize with nobody, she only cares about the twins and herself, she doesn't listen to nobody and doesn't care about anyone, not even herself," he scoffed. "She has that facade of strong unbreakable girl, but it's all fake, she's miserable, she's wounded, she's fragile, push her a bit far, touch something that wounded her and she'll fall down like a domino."

"She is heartless, cold, ambitious, and thinks she's suffered more than anyone else, always trying to make everything about her, always the one who hurts most. She only cares about spilling her pain, she doesn't give a damn about nobody else's, even if you also went through some trauma, she doesn't give a shite, because she's not one to care about other people. No wonder she has no real friends or anyone really close to her, she repels everyone away with that terrible personality of her, too cold, too indifferent, too nonchalant."

I guess he is angry because I disregarded his little sad story, after he told me about the first time he helped get rid of a body. But at that moment, I couldn't care less about him, I had just survived almost being raped, actually being assaulted, and I had killed a person. Tristan didn't give a shit if I was traumatized, why should I care about if he was?

"She has no sense of sympathy, no sense of how to deal with other humans, she's not made for social circles, she's made to stay alone forever, isolated, far away in a mountain or whatever. Only made to come out on winter, put up a scene on the ice, then go back to be an exiled antisocial freak," he practically spit, his tone angrier than usual, so angry it made me flinch, it made me sick.

"She doesn't feel love for nobody but the twins, she doesn't even fucking love herself. It's impossible for anyone to love someone who loves nobody else, who doesn't even love herself. She repels love away and love refuses to come into her life as payback, that's why nobody she doesn't love, loves her, which only leaves out the twins, who don't even love her above anything else, because they have each other. She can't blame nobody else but herself for not being the first place in nobody's life."

"Tristan," Pietro snapped, making me realize he was probably with his whole little group here, and the stupid couple had just left them for whatever reason, "don't say that."

"It's the truth, she hates herself because she knows this, and everytime anyone throws that at her, she shuts down, because she hates to have the truth thrown at her face. Not saying it and keeping quiet about it, won't..."

I couldn't stand it anymore, I ran into the girl's locker room and closed the door, feeling my eyes burning, tears wanting to roll down again.

Unlovable. Unlovable. Unlovable.

Unlovable. Unlovable.

Unlovable!

In the end, it all comes to this.

It all comes to the fact that the mistake is mine, that the error came from me, that I am what's wrong with whatever relationship I dare to be part of, even if I was born in it. I am impossible to be loved, loving someone is an one-sided curse that will always require my sacrifice. Maybe he's right.

Maybe they are all right.

I am why mother abandoned me and dad.

I am why dad felt despair after losing mother, because he gave her a defective, broken, and unlovable daughter, while her new husband had a perfect son who would love her there.

I am the bad influence in the twins' lives, despite all I've sacrificed to raised them how I wanted to be raised, with all the little love I had in me, with all I knew of it. I was never enough to them, but I don't blame them, it's not their fault. It's mine, I'm the incompetent.

Tristan knows he's better than me, that he is smarter, he has more skills, he is richer, he is more powerful, he has the world at the tip of his hands as the heir of the De Vere Beauclerk, he has my mother who abandoned me for him, she loved him more than she'll ever love me. She stepped up when he most needed a mom, because I wasn't important enough for her to stay.

I'm the problem.

I'm the mistake.

I'm the error.

I'm defective.

I'm incompetent.

I'm insufficient.

I'm broken.

I'm nothing.

I'll always be nothing near Tristan, because he is everything, and only one person can be that. He was born that privileged, he was raised with love and surrounded by people who would have his back, and he always had all he wanted, he never had to sacrifice shit in his perfect little life. Because he got talent, he got intelligent, he got god-like visuals, he got money, and everything I'll never have.

I've never envied someone like I envy him. He is all I need, he has all I ever wanted, and he didn't even fight to have it, he was simply... born with that diamond spoon shoved up his pretty British ass.

He is social, he has parents, he has my siblings, he has uncles and aunts, he has grandparents, he has godparents, he has friends, he has best friends, he has the love and devotion of everyone just because he is... him. While I have nothing and I'm hated, with no reason aside from being... me.

It's cruel.

It's cruel because no matter how hard I try, I will never reach him, I'll always be on the shadows because why I run to get to him, he's running to grow further. To go up to touch a light that will never be within my reach, because I don't belong there, but he does. The sun is his finish line and will lighten his spotlight through his whole life, while I belong in the shadows and in the cold.

When I blinked, tears rolled down my eyes desperately, the feeling of never being enough, of being cursed to never know any kind of genuine love, or of ever being put first by anyone, throwing me off my feet, making me sit back down on the bench. I had already changed, already put my skates on, but I couldn't move, I couldn't get up.

Leaning closer to my knees, I hugged my own arms feeling miserably lonely, all that Christian, Tristan, and Gemma said to and about me, hitting far too close to home.

I already know all of this, but why does it hurt more when others throw it at me? Why do I wanna die when this painful truth comes from Tristan more than anybody else?

It suffocates me, it sickens me.

Still, I can't deny the truth of his words, and that only hurts more. It hurt so much that I was unable to control the tears burning my skin. And still, that sickening word remained ringing in my ears.

Unlovable. Unlovable. Unlovable.

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