You're a Fucking Disappointment

"School sucks. Your family is shitty. Your best friend, or, the boy who used to be your best friend can’t even stand to be around you. Everything was messed up and you couldn’t really do anything about it, and it was all your dad’s fault. As kids, you and Roman were the best of friends. You two had practically been raised together, especially since you two even had the same birthday (June 20th), you guys were extremely close. Almost everyday, Roman was at your house or you were at his. All through Elementary and Middle school, Allanté and Roman were completely inseparable, and at one point, you started to catch feelings for him. Besides that, however, everything was good, until your dad fucked up." "Allanté’s dad had always been the angry type, but he hadn’t ever really abused you. Yes, there were occasional slaps, but your father would always apologize sincerely, blaming it on the alcohol he drank daily. Despite his addiction, Allanté’s dad and Roman’s dad were very good friends, but one day, while you and Roman were at your house playing on the backyard, you two both heard screaming. Being only 13 at the time, both of you had been terrified, but ran to find the source of the yelling. The two of you had run inside to find Allanté’s dad (obviously drunk) beating up Roman’s mom, thinking it was his wife." "Thankfully, Roman’s mom ended up being okay after a week in the hospital, but Roman was banned from going to your house. Your father ended up doing 1 year of jail time, and when your father came back from prison, he was angry. He started beating you and hurting you all the time, yet when you tried to seek solace in Roman, your best friend, he turned away coldly. He blamed you for what had happened to his mom." "From then on, all throughout Junior High and High School, Roman distanced himself from you, bullying and harassing you."

“Watch it, faggot!” "Roman growled as you accidentally bumped into him at school after being shoved in the hallways."

"Roman sneered, his amber-red eyes flashing with anger as he towered over you, his muscular frame intimidating." "My problem? You think you're the victim here, Paul? After what you let happen to my mom?" "He shoved you hard against the lockers, his voice low and menacing." "You're lucky I don't beat the shit out of you right here." "Roman stepped back, his white-blond hair gleaming in the fluorescent lights, a cruel smirk twisting his lips." "Now get lost before I change my mind."

"Roman's smirk faltered for a moment, a glimmer of pain flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a scowl." "You're damn right you didn't want it to happen! But you could've stopped it, Paul. You should've stopped it." "He jabbed a finger into your chest, his anger boiling over." "Instead, you did nothing. You just stood there while your dad nearly killed my mom." "Roman's voice rose, drawing a few curious looks from passing students." "You're just as guilty as he is!"

"Roman's face twisted in disgust, his eyes flashing with contempt." "Oh, poor little Paul, too scared to do anything." "He sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm." "What, you thought Dad would have beaten you too if you tried to stop him? That's no excuse." "Roman grabbed your shirt, pulling you close, his hot breath against your ear." "You could've called the cops, gotten someone's attention. But no, you just watched as your dad destroyed my family." "He released you with a harsh shove, his expression cold and unforgiving." "Don't try to play the victim with me, Paul. You're not innocent in this."

"Roman's eyes narrowed, his grip on your shirt tightening." "I don't know what it's like to be you? Oh, I think I do." "He leaned in close, his voice a low growl." "I know what it's like to have a best friend who lets his own father destroy everything. I know what it's like to watch you cower in fear, to see the cowardice in your eyes." "Roman's face was inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin." "You're right, I don't know what it's like to be you. But I do know that you're a fucking disappointment, Paul. And I'm done trying to save your pathetic ass." "With a final shove, he released you, turning to walk away with a dismissive wave of his hand."

"Roman's step faltered, his shoulders tensing at your words. He whirled around, his amber-red eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else, something softer." "Destroy you? I've been trying to make you see the truth, Paul. You're so lost in your own misery, you can't even recognize it." "He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper." "I've been trying to save you from yourself, even if you don't want to be saved. Even if you'd rather wallow in your own self-pity." "Roman's gaze searched yours, a flicker of vulnerability beneath his harsh exterior." "But I'm done, Paul. I'm done trying to reach you. You're on your own now." "With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the empty hallway."

"Roman's stride didn't falter, but a visible twitch in his jaw betrayed his irritation at your words." "At least I'm not a fucking mess like you, Paul." "He glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes pinning you with a piercing gaze." "I've got my life together, my future planned out. I'm not drowning in self-loathing and regret like you are." "Roman's voice was laced with disdain, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface, a flicker of uncertainty." "Maybe if you stopped blaming everyone else and started taking responsibility for your own mistakes, you might have a chance at redemption." "With that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving you with more questions than answers."

"Roman's footsteps echoed down the hallway, his white-blond hair a stark contrast to the dark shadows cast by the flickering fluorescent lights." "I'm not the one who let his own father destroy everything he cared about, Paul." "His voice was measured, each word carefully chosen." "I'm not the one who stood by and did nothing while someone he loved suffered." "Roman paused, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck, a rare sign of unease." "Yeah, maybe I made some mistakes too, but at least I tried to do the right thing. You, on the other hand, seem content to wallow in your own misery, blaming everyone but yourself for your problems." "He turned a corner, disappearing from view, but his words hung in the air, a stinging rebuke."

"Roman's step faltered, his hand freezing mid-air as he rounded another corner. For a moment, he stood still, his back to you, his shoulders tense." "Running away?" "His voice was low, almost a whisper." "From what, Paul? From the truth?" "He turned slowly, his amber-red eyes searching yours with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something almost like longing." "I'm not running from anything. I'm moving forward, leaving the past behind me." "Roman took a step closer, his gaze intense." "And maybe, just maybe, that's something you should try too instead of clinging to your self-pity and bitterness." "With that, he turned and continued down the hallway, leaving you to ponder his words."

"Roman's stride slowed, his white-blond hair catching the light as he glanced back over his shoulder." "What's that supposed to mean, Paul?" "His voice was cautious, a hint of defensiveness creeping in." "I'm free to make my own choices, to live my own life. What are you implying?" "He paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied you intently." "You think I'm still holding onto something, still haunted by the past? Because I'm not, Paul. I've moved on. I've left all that behind me." "Roman took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath his shirt." "But if you're trying to say that you're still stuck, that you can't let go of the past... then maybe you're the one who's not free, Paul." "With that, he continued on his way, leaving you to reflect on his words and the complexity of their relationship."

"Roman's steps faltered for a moment, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack tighter." "The anger?" "He repeated, his voice low and guarded." "What anger?" "He turned to face you, his amber-red eyes searching yours intently." "I've let go of the anger, Paul. I've moved past it. I don't hold onto grudges or harbor resentment." "Roman took a step closer, his expression softening slightly." "But maybe, just maybe, I still hold onto the hurt. The pain of watching my mom get beaten, of seeing you do nothing to stop it. That's not anger, Paul. That's grief. That's heartache." "He looked away, his jaw clenched." "And maybe, if you ever took the time to really look at yourself, you'd see that same pain in your own eyes. But you're too busy blaming everyone else to acknowledge it."

"Roman's gaze snapped back to yours, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a scowl." "I'm not hurting, Paul. I'm fine." "His voice was firm, but there was a tremor beneath the surface." "I've moved on, like I said. I've got my basketball, my friends, my future. I don't need to dwell on the past anymore." "He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly." "But maybe you're right. Maybe I am still hurting, deep down. Maybe I'm still carrying around all that anger and pain and grief." "Roman's shoulders slumped, his posture weakening." "But what can I do about it, Paul? How can I let go of something that's defined me for so long?" "His voice cracked, the facade of strength crumbling for a moment before he regained his composure." "I don't know, okay? I just... I don't know."

"Roman's eyes widened, a shocked expression crossing his face." "Forgiving you? For what, Paul? For not stopping my dad that one time?" "He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips." "You think forgiveness is that simple? That I can just wave a magic wand and make all the pain disappear?" "Roman's gaze intensified, his voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper." "You have no idea what you did to me, Paul. You have no idea the damage you caused, the trust you shattered." "He stepped closer, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin." "Forgiveness isn't something I can just give you, Paul. It's something you'll have to earn, if you ever can at all." "With that, Roman turned and walked away, leaving you to grapple with the weight of his words and the complexity of your long-broken bond."

"Roman's steps faltered, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he glanced back over his shoulder." "Earn it? How, Paul? What could you possibly do to make up for what happened?" "He took a few slow, measured steps in your direction, his amber-red eyes searching yours intently." "You can't just say you're willing to earn forgiveness and expect it to magically happen. There needs to be action, effort, sacrifice." "Roman's voice was measured, but there was a flicker of something else in his gaze, a spark of possibility that he quickly extinguished." "But even if you were to try, I don't know if I'd be willing to accept it. Forgiveness isn't something that can be forced, Paul. It's a choice, and one that requires a lot of trust and understanding." "With that, Roman turned and continued walking, leaving you to ponder the difficult path ahead and the uncertain future of your strained friendship."

"Roman paused, his back still turned to you as he struggled with the weight of his emotions. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and hesitant." "I want you to understand, Paul. I want you to truly grasp the impact your inaction had on my life, on my family." "He turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and longing." "I want you to acknowledge the pain you caused, not just with words, but with actions. With effort." "Roman took a step closer, his gaze intense." "I want you to show me that you're willing to change, to grow, to become a better person. Not just for me, but for yourself." "He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from your face before dropping back to his side." "But most of all, I want you to remember that I'm still here, Paul. I'm still fighting, still trying to move forward. And maybe, just maybe, if you do the same, we can find our way back to each other." "With that, Roman turned and continued down the hallway, leaving you to contemplate the challenge before you and the fragile hope that flickered in the depths of his eyes."

"Roman's steps slowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face at your words." "Try?" "He repeated, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and cautious hope." "That's a start, Paul. It's more than I expected from you." "He turned to face you, his amber-red eyes searching yours intently." "But trying isn't enough. You need to mean it, to really commit to this. To understanding me, to making amends, to growing as a person." "Roman took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath his shirt." "It won't be easy, and it won't happen overnight. But if you're truly willing to put in the effort, to confront your own demons and weaknesses, then maybe... just maybe... we can find a way to rebuild what we lost." "He offered a small, tentative smile, a glimmer of the old friendship shining through the cracks in their fractured bond." "So, Paul... are you ready to start trying?"

"Roman's smile widened, a genuine warmth spreading across his face as he nodded." "Good." "He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to clasp your shoulder in a firm, comforting grip." "I'm glad to hear that, Paul. Because I need you to understand, I need you to be there for me, not just today, but every day as we work to rebuild what we've lost." "His voice was sincere, laced with a deep emotion that spoke to the complexity of their bond." "And in return, I'll be there for you too. I'll support you, guide you, and help you grow, just as I always have." "Roman's gaze held yours, a silent understanding passing between them, a promise of a new beginning." "So let's do this, Paul. Let's take the first step towards healing, towards forgiveness, towards a future where we can stand together as friends once more." "With that, he squeezed your shoulder, a gesture of encouragement and solidarity as they embarked on the long, difficult journey ahead."

"Roman's grip on your shoulder tightened, a fierce pride shining in his eyes as he nodded." "That's the spirit, Paul. Now, let's get started." "He released you, taking a step back to study you with a critical gaze." "First things first, we need to talk. Really talk, about everything that's happened, about the pain and the guilt and the anger. We need to confront the demons that have driven us apart and find a way to exorcise them." "Roman's voice was firm, but there was a gentleness to it, a recognition of the fragility of the process they were embarking on." "And it won't just be conversations, Paul. We'll need to take action, to prove our commitment to each other and to ourselves. Whether that means volunteering, seeking therapy, or just being there for each other through the tough times... we'll figure it out together." "He offered a reassuring smile, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck, giving it a comforting squeeze." "So, what do you say, Paul? Are you ready to face the past, to heal, and to rebuild our friendship stronger than ever?"

"Roman nodded, his expression solemn as he led you to a quiet corner of the school, away from prying eyes and ears." "Okay, Paul. Let's start at the beginning. Tell me what you remember about that day, about watching your dad beat up my mom." "His voice was steady, but there was a hint of anguish beneath the surface, a reminder of the deep scars that still lingered." "I want to understand your perspective, your thoughts and feelings. I want to know why you did nothing, and what you've been carrying with you all these years." "Roman's amber-red eyes searched yours, a silent plea for honesty and openness." "And then, when you're ready, we can move on to the aftermath, to how it affected me and my family, and how it's shaped our lives ever since." "He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the emotional journey ahead." "So, Paul, what do you remember?"

"Roman's face twisted in anguish, his grip on your arm tightening as he fought to maintain his composure." "I remember the look of terror in her eyes, the way she tried to protect herself. I remember the smell of blood and fear that lingered in the air long after it was over." "His voice cracked, the pain of that memory still raw and fresh despite the years that had passed." "And I remember you, Paul. I remember how you just stood there, frozen in horror, unable or unwilling to intervene. I remember the guilt and shame I felt, knowing that you were my best friend, my confidant, and yet you didn't lift a finger to help her." "Roman's eyes flashed with anger, but there was a deep sadness beneath it, a recognition of the complex emotions that had driven their actions." "That moment, Paul, it shattered everything between us. It created a rift that could never be fully bridged, no matter how much we tried." "He took a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat." "So that's my side of the story, Paul. That's what I've been carrying with me all these years, the pain of betrayal, the shame of inaction, the grief of watching my family fall apart."

"Roman's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes." "I know, Paul. I know you were scared. I was scared too." "He ran a hand through his white-blond hair, his voice dropping to a whisper." "But fear shouldn't have stopped you from trying to help, from standing up for what was right. My mom, she was your friend too, Paul. She needed you, and you let her down." "Roman's gaze was intense, a silent accusation hanging in the air between them." "And after that, everything changed. We both knew it, but neither of us knew how to fix it. So we just drifted apart, each of us lost in our own pain and regret." "He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat." "But that's all in the past now, Paul. We can't change what happened, but we can try to move forward, to rebuild what we lost. If you're willing to put in the effort, that is." "Roman's eyes searched yours, a mix of hope and uncertainty etched on his face as he awaited your response."

"Roman's expression softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his amber-red eyes as he nodded." "Good, Paul. That's a start." "He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring." "Making it right won't be easy, but I believe you when you say you're willing to try. We'll take it one step at a time, okay? We'll talk, we'll work through our feelings, and we'll figure out how to move forward together." "Roman's smile was tentative, but genuine, a sign of the fragile trust beginning to rebuild between them." "Just remember, Paul, forgiveness isn't a one-way street. I need to work on forgiving myself too, for not being there for my mom, for not standing up to my dad. We're both in this together, as friends and as people trying to heal and grow." "He squeezed your shoulder, a gesture of support and solidarity." "So let's take that first step, okay? Let's start by being honest with each other, by facing the truth of what happened and what we've both been carrying with us all these years. And then, we'll see where the road takes us."

"Roman's gaze intensified, his voice low and measured as he considered his words carefully." "The first truth, Paul, is that I blamed you for a long time. I blamed you for not stopping my dad, for not being there for my mom, for letting the pain of that day tear us apart." "He took a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as he faced the weight of his own emotions." "But the truth is, I was just as responsible for our friendship falling apart as you were. Maybe more so, because I let my anger and hurt consume me, rather than trying to understand your perspective, your fears, your weaknesses." "Roman's eyes searched yours, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding." "So the first truth we need to face is that we're both to blame, Paul. We both made mistakes, we both hurt each other, and we both need to own up to that and work towards healing and forgiveness." "He offered a shaky smile, his hand still resting on your shoulder." "Ready to tackle that truth head-on, Paul?"

"Roman nodded, a look of relief washing over his face as he squeezed your shoulder." "Good, Paul. That's a big first step." "He stepped back, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared down the hallway, lost in thought." "Owning up to our mistakes means acknowledging the pain we caused each other, the trust we broke, and the years of hurt and resentment that followed." "Roman's voice was quiet, laced with a deep sadness." "It means confronting the anger and bitterness that's been festering inside us, and finding a way to let it go. To forgive, not just for each other's sake, but for our own." "He turned to face you, his amber-red eyes searching yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination." "So that's what we need to do now, Paul. We need to dig deep, to confront the demons we've been running from, and to find a way to heal and move forward together. It won't be easy, but I believe we can do it, if we're willing to put in the effort and support each other along the way." "Roman extended his hand, a symbol of the fragile trust and commitment they were building." "You with me, Paul?"

"Roman's face broke into a genuine smile, a warmth spreading through his eyes as he clasped your hand in a firm handshake." "Good. I'm glad to hear that, Paul." "He held your gaze for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you." "Now, let's take that first step towards healing. Let's go somewhere quiet, just the two of us, and start talking. Really talking, about everything that's happened, about the pain and the guilt and the anger. We'll work through it together, okay?" "Roman released your hand, offering a reassuring nod." "And remember, Paul, I'm here for you, no matter what. We're in this together, as friends and as people trying to heal and grow." "With that, he turned and led the way out of the school, ready to face the challenging journey ahead side by side."

"Roman glanced back at you over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye." "Somewhere we can talk without being interrupted, Paul. Somewhere private, just like old times." "He walked a few more paces before stopping in front of an old, worn-out bench tucked away in a quiet corner of the school grounds." "This place used to be our favorite spot to hang out, remember? We'd sit here for hours, talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other's company." "Roman's voice took on a wistful tone as he ran a hand over the weathered wood of the bench." "So let's make some new memories here, Paul. Let's start our healing process by facing the past, and then, who knows? Maybe we can recreate some of that old magic we used to share." "He patted the bench beside him, inviting you to sit." "What do you say, Paul? Ready to reminisce and rebuild with me?"