(click, space, or right arrow. i'll probably enter for the other two too, but i don't think i'd have enough room in one project.) COSMOS. "If you've got a song inside, don't hide it, don't lock it || And remember all the good times, and keep them in your pocket" When a star is born, they are not the only one. They are inextricably linked to some creature on some far-off planet with no name. A creature of fire in hues of white, of yellow, of blue. To be a star-creature is to be dazzling, famous, perfect. You're always busy, making sure people still care. And they always do. You're beautiful inside and out, an ever-glowing source of light and warmth to the people who you are not. But what if...? It's nice... but not for you. Where's your quaint, simple life- or maybe it isn't quaint and simple, but... is pleasing others your only purpose? Star-creatures can't be anything else? No shy musicians, no quiet tailors? So you fade into the background, just long enough for nobody to notice. Follow your own dreams, play your own song. You retreat to your home. You clear everything out. You're starting anew. You've put up with being someone you're not for too long. You pull out a canvas you've had in storage for years at this point, too self-conscious to use before. But now, you grab any brush and paint you can find nearby and freely splash swirling strokes all over it, not caring how bad it might look or how many paint stains you get on yourself or the new furniture you bought the day you quit. Sure enough, flecks of blue speckle your fur once you're finished. They kind of look like stars, so you complete the shapes- one like a clasp for the splash of lighter color on your chest, two on your flank and back, and one over your left eye- and you can tell that at this point they'll never fade. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's a good thing to remember your past life. Make your new memories, but don't let the old ones slip away. And as you stare at the once-blank white fabric now covered in shimmering hues of blue and purple and green, you know your new name. Simple, almost comically straightforward, and fairly common- but carefree and light. Blue. OOPS. "No, I don't want to hear it; we'll be having macaroni; you will be polite || When he's here tonight" "There you go." Blue looks up at me, their eyes definitely more worried than they needed to be. "Are you sure you can hide these?" I almost ask what they're talking about when I remember that they just tied some little bracelets to my arm. I snort a little- gross- and tell them, "Don't worry! I'll just hide 'em in my backpack." I know why they're worried. My parents don't like it when I wear bracelets like these. Apparently, when they were little, they were a sign that you were gay, and some people would use them as a way to show they were taken too. I'm surprised at how well they took that I might be gay- which I am- but they were mortified to hear that they'd come from /Blue/ of all people, and when they found out /they/ were demigender, they FREAKED and said that being gay was okay as long as you didn't associate with "THEM." Some parents they are. I keep telling them that I can have short hair and not be a boy, and yet they're forcing me to grow it out again. Great. There goes my girl magnet. Blue's eyes catch on the scratch on my cheek. I'm sure it's been there for weeks... "What's that from?" "Oh, uh... there's this kid in my homeroom who doesn't like you," I start saying. They go pale. "He liked me until he realized I was friends with you, so he noticed this from when I went on a hike, and has been kind of... scratching over it when he passes me?" Wow, it sounds a lot worse when I put it like that. Blue seems to think the same and pulls a bandage out of their bag. "Here. Put this on it. Tell them to put you in a different homeroom. You can't have your school environment be worse than your home one!" I press it down on my cheek, smiling at them. "'My parents can be convinced, I know that much. But if I can't be myself and be with my friends in my house, my school should be my outlet for that.' So, how's my sappy monologue coming along?" I ask with a grin. They laugh. "Aw, Sam, it's perfect!"
The songs used are Pocket by Louie Zong, Brian David Gilbert, & Jeff Liu and As Your Father I Expressly Forbid It by Lemon Demon. I'd advise you turn your volume down? Since As Your Father is really loud. Especially compared to Pocket.
