Work Text:
Inadequate.
Once upon a time, a prince was born. He was slightly bigger than your average infant, but not gigantic. A substantial mass of sweet ignorance in your arms if you held him. He was just right. Just right.
The prince grew up to be a little bully as a toddler. His playmates were always left crying because of him that eventually, it became commonplace to blame the prince whenever a toddler would start bawling. "It wasn't me! Why is it always me?" The prince would exclaim, exasperated at the accusations. He felt wronged. He wasn't being mean. He never meant to be mean. He never meant to.
Remember the prince being a big, healthy baby? His 'healthiness' didn't end there. Over the years, the prince became even bigger, uncontrollably so because of his favorable parents. The prince was a talented, bright young boy. He would do tasks better and faster than others. He did not even need a private tutor. No, he did not. The prince studied everyday after school, doing it all by himself and for long hours. He was a diligent boy, driven by the need to impress, gratified by the 'maturity' of his lifestyle. The prince was taught that good education equals good boy. The prince did not know any better, though. Really, he did not.
It did not matter if he knew that he was in the right direction, or if it was apparent that he was the perfect kind of child that was convenient for adults to control. The boy was big for his age. Stronger and with an intimidating aura, coupled with a decisiveness that pushed the other, weaker children away. They wouldn't say it to his face, but they definitely thought of it, that the prince was an impressive boy through and through. But he was big. Fat. His body was enough to overturn all his accomplishments and it was all that was needed to ridicule him. Was it resentment or not, it cannot be known. The point is, the prince was set apart since this time of his life. He knew it already, though. The prince could only drift father from then on.
The prince's teenage years were rocky at best. The boy attended high school like a normal teenager, took out his sharpest pencil and passed his school applications tests. The boy was aware of his talents and although he knew that he was valuable in some way, he begun to suspect that he was still not enough. The prince's open and casual personality from his childhood vanished and he became awkward, cold and jaded. Every action was second guessed and each attempt ended with a reluctant scratch to the head. Nothing felt meaningful to pursue. He was not doing a stellar job at keeping his studies, although he was far from failing. Sometimes he almost stopped caring. Many times he did. The prince's world took a dark turn. It wasn't enough to be diligent and talented. Hard work was nothing against popularity. What has the world come to, the prince asked. He was so confused. Thoroughly so.
With low spirits, the prince forged onward. He knew he belonged to the academe. It was where he felt safest and if he ever was, happiest. In a place of higher learning, every person looked out for his own self. Regardless of position, gender, background. An equal battleground with only diligence as the prerequesite. The prince was in his element, and his jadedness melted a little, revealing a sensitive heart hidden all those years of disconnection from the average. The prince found good friends, but the insecurities remained. They were always there, always taking up so much space. So unreasonable, so unsolvable.
The prince hated to admit it. In some ways, he was a valuable specimen. A mind worthy of trade, and hands of learning. The prince's potential was beyond comprehension. As a human, he wasn't just decent. He was valuable. Valuable. Still, he felt so inadequate. He was never going to be enough. He will always be too shy, too domineering, too big. The prince had never known love. He has never felt seen in his whole life. His whole life he has always been regarded as a figure, a color of his pedigree, an untouchable piece. He felt so inorganic, like he wasn't a warm living thing. He felt unattractive. Too fat to be loved, too 'prized' to be seen as just a person. Too jaded to see the special in the stack, but so desperate for help, attention and love.
Today the prince escaped to his room after an encounter with a close friend that left his skin in pieces. Maybe it was his fault for baring his heart like an idiot. The prince felt weak and heavy as he made his way to the tub and turned on the tap. It felt wonderful to have hot water scalding his feet. The prince laid down, watching the water cover his chest. The warmth surrounded him except for his knees which jutted out of the water. Then he started humming. The bathroom cooperated and echoed his voice hauntingly back at him. Soon, his breath hitched in his throat. The prince was crying, but no one knew. His tears weren't important. There was no one to talk to, anyway. No one would listen, as in simply listen. Everyone was too preoccupied with plugging in his own opinion to actually listen to the prince. No, there wasn't anyone he could talk to. But he had himself. The prince cried, his face ugly with tears. His mouth released no sound. Holding in his own sobs made the prince more miserable and he cried harder. I'll give up, he decided. There was no point.
Just then, an imaginary weight pressed on the prince's stomach. He raised his hand and made the familiar motion. A small smile broke his crying. The sensation of soft fur radiated from his fingertips. Pointed ears, a flat nose. Loud, comforting purring. Suddenly, the prince let out a little laugh. The entire world could judge him as too fat, too intimidating or too shy. He'd still feel inadequate in many respects, but he could continue because he was stronger with his animal friend. He could wait longer to be seen, endure the judgement longer. Besides, pain was always welcome as it was more needed creatively than empty happiness.
With a sigh, the prince stood from the tub, blasted on the music and went to sleep feeling better.