26. I can be like you.

They laughed, pushing her esteem and limits lower. Their perception of her was just of a girl, someone who can’t fend for herself, someone who’ll never make it in the industry. She was too weak, her head was in the air. They thought she hadn’t experienced all that crap when she grew up. They were wrong.

She’d experienced much more shit than they have.

Truthfully, if she didn’t hide who she was, who her family were, she’d get through into the music industry just as easy. But, then again, she truthfully wasn’t the kind of person who’d go around bragging about her descents, she didn’t want to misuse such power.
True, sometimes she’d wish that she could use everything and anything she had against the people she loathes, she especially wishes for that in her younger days. But she grew older, understanding what it meant for someone to throw around one’s weight. A lot of people she knew did that and she hated those people. If she was did the same thing, she’d hate herself.

“It’s a battlefield.” His famous words, constantly reminding her of what a harsh and cruel world she’s be willing to get into. Too willing to get into. He’d seen her battle it out, he’d seen her being laughed at, being mocked, treated like garbage. And he’d always wanted to save her. He was always there to save her. She just pushed him away.

In her mind, she kept on telling herself, “It was me who chose this path. On my own. And it’d be me who’d jolly well get out of it. On my own.” Because everything she had done, all her life, she felt that everything had been done for her, to cater to her needs. Now she wants to do something, on her own. Independence.

He always saw her as an independent. She didn’t rely much on them to achieve what she wants, she was always on her own. With friends or without, she seemed as if she could conquer the world. So much of her mother in her; her gentle demeanour, caring heart, the whole calm aura that she used to carry around. It was all in her. But then her father's genes came into play as well.

Only with broken wings will one stand on ones feet.

She believed in that. Because if those wings weren’t broken, it meant that one lives his life without problems, without test. Impossible. Clearly impossible. Because life is made up of tests, the ones that challenge your insecurities and paranoia. It’s only up to oneself to accept and face it or to run away.


She stirred her drink mixing the two spoonfuls of sugar with her coffee solution, then taking a small sip. She exhaled a heavy sigh.

“Didn’t go well again?”

She turned around, her eyes meeting his coloured contacts, and she smiled, “They hated me. But I’ve been through so much hate that I feel numb.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, you’ll get there.”

She gave a sarcastic laugh, “I better. After so much shit I’ve been through.”

“You can always ask me for help. I do own a record company after all.”

“No,” She sternly said, “Because I’d not make it on my own if I ever give in. This is my fight, I’ll fight it and if I end up dying, at least I died protecting my honour.”

“You’re ambitious, determined and stubborn. This’re good qualities, but sometimes, one has to know his limits. If they go to far, they’d end up not making it at all.”

“It’s not my fault that I have part of your genes in me, is it?”

He laughed, “This is why I discouraged your mother from having another child. You alone have taken over my weird gene.”

“Dad,” She said, suddenly becoming silent.

He turned to her, questioning, “What is it?”

She bit her bottom lip, as if nervous, “I just want you to know that I’m doing this not because I’m ashamed that you’re my father.” She took a breath, “I just want to prove to people that I can be like you, I just don’t want to.”

With that statement, Gackt Camui stood up from his seat. He marched his way to the other side of the isle where his young daughter was stood and embraced her. He was proud of her, what she had become and what she was doing. Even with failure, he knew that she’d find a way to make it up to the top somehow, Because;

“Dad, I can be like you. I just don’t want to.”

ah, well. R&R?

I gave you two paragraphs, you gave me three sentences. Gerek pe?

26. I can be like you.

They laughed, pushing her esteem and limits lower. Their perception of her was just of a girl, someone who can’t fend for herself, someone who’ll never make it in the industry. She was too weak, her head was in the air. They thought she hadn’t experienced all that crap when she grew up. They were wrong.

She’d experienced much more shit than they have.

Truthfully, if she didn’t hide who she was, who her family were, she’d get through into the music industry just as easy. But, then again, she truthfully wasn’t the kind of person who’d go around bragging about her descents, she didn’t want to misuse such power.
True, sometimes she’d wish that she could use everything and anything she had against the people she loathes, she especially wishes for that in her younger days. But she grew older, understanding what it meant for someone to throw around one’s weight. A lot of people she knew did that and she hated those people. If she was did the same thing, she’d hate herself.

“It’s a battlefield.” His famous words, constantly reminding her of what a harsh and cruel world she’s be willing to get into. Too willing to get into. He’d seen her battle it out, he’d seen her being laughed at, being mocked, treated like garbage. And he’d always wanted to save her. He was always there to save her. She just pushed him away.

In her mind, she kept on telling herself, “It was me who chose this path. On my own. And it’d be me who’d jolly well get out of it. On my own.” Because everything she had done, all her life, she felt that everything had been done for her, to cater to her needs. Now she wants to do something, on her own. Independence.

He always saw her as an independent. She didn’t rely much on them to achieve what she wants, she was always on her own. With friends or without, she seemed as if she could conquer the world. So much of her mother in her; her gentle demeanour, caring heart, the whole calm aura that she used to carry around. It was all in her. But then her father's genes came into play as well.

Only with broken wings will one stand on ones feet.

She believed in that. Because if those wings weren’t broken, it meant that one lives his life without problems, without test. Impossible. Clearly impossible. Because life is made up of tests, the ones that challenge your insecurities and paranoia. It’s only up to oneself to accept and face it or to run away.


She stirred her drink mixing the two spoonfuls of sugar with her coffee solution, then taking a small sip. She exhaled a heavy sigh.

“Didn’t go well again?”

She turned around, her eyes meeting his coloured contacts, and she smiled, “They hated me. But I’ve been through so much hate that I feel numb.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, you’ll get there.”

She gave a sarcastic laugh, “I better. After so much shit I’ve been through.”

“You can always ask me for help. I do own a record company after all.”

“No,” She sternly said, “Because I’d not make it on my own if I ever give in. This is my fight, I’ll fight it and if I end up dying, at least I died protecting my honour.”

“You’re ambitious, determined and stubborn. This’re good qualities, but sometimes, one has to know his limits. If they go to far, they’d end up not making it at all.”

“It’s not my fault that I have part of your genes in me, is it?”

He laughed, “This is why I discouraged your mother from having another child. You alone have taken over my weird gene.”

“Dad,” She said, suddenly becoming silent.

He turned to her, questioning, “What is it?”

She bit her bottom lip, as if nervous, “I just want you to know that I’m doing this not because I’m ashamed that you’re my father.” She took a breath, “I just want to prove to people that I can be like you, I just don’t want to.”

With that statement, Gackt Camui stood up from his seat. He marched his way to the other side of the isle where his young daughter was stood and embraced her. He was proud of her, what she had become and what she was doing. Even with failure, he knew that she’d find a way to make it up to the top somehow, Because;

“Dad, I can be like you. I just don’t want to.”

ah, well. R&R?

I gave you two paragraphs, you gave me three sentences. Gerek pe?