Chapter Text
Hello!! Before you start reading I just wanted to remind that this is absolutely NOT an Akiena fic. I do not ship the siblings[its illegal I'm so sorry], and I just write them as they are. Also warnings of mentions of slight s3lf h@rm is inside!! Now that you have read this you may continue..vv
//Shinonome Ena//
I would never be good enough.
As the daughter of a famous artist, my artworks could never compare to those of my father's. He would often tell me about his experiences, tell me nothing would be easy when I tore my failed artworks.
But no matter what words he would use to talk to me, I would never listen.
Stubborn as a bull, I would block him out, throw his sentences away, and forget them.
He'd never understand me, anyway.
Can't the famous artist let his daughter draw just a bit?
I posted my artworks online.
I was desperate, you see? I wanted someone to tell me that what I was doing was okay.
I had two accounts now, one dedicated to my art and the other for casual reasons where I would often post pictures of myself.
And although people did see my drawings, it was little to nothing compared to my informal pictures.
Those blew, comments would be made and likes would be set the moment I uploaded a post on my page.
But I would wait and sit in front of my phone for days, watching the view counter hit just twenty.
Just like that, I had become addicted to social media.
It was my craving for attention that had brought me here, am I proud of that?
Haha, no.
Even after Kanade had invited me into the group Nightcort at 25:00, and part of me still felt like I was never seen.
As if even my artworks for each music video weren't enough.
But I'll keep tiring myself with each day, until someone finally sees me.
I wouldn't, at all, thought he would have helped in even just a bit.
//Shinonome Akito//
I will never achieve that dream.
That is what I have constantly been told my entire life, that my aspiration was too much for the person that I was, that I would never be able to make that dream come true.
When I watched my very first performance of Rad Weekend, I had felt the feelings heavy and true in my heart, the adrenaline running through my blood, keeping me alive, burning with passion. I, too, had wanted to be able to bring this joy and this feeling to everyone else through music. And that was when I started to sing.
I would practise by Vivid Street every single day after school. And no matter how much I tried, how long I practised, I could never find myself to sing well enough.
People around me would tell me how I would never be able to surpass Rad Weekend with my voice this way, that I should just give up.
Stubborn as I was, however, I never listened. And I made the mistake of singing at the well-known area, Crawl Green, where the RADers had made their first debut.
I had dirtied that legendary place's name.
Failed miserably.
I still remember the way those hot tears burned as I sobbed to myself after the event. I had made a fool of myself, showed everyone how idiotic I was to go there to sing even though I knew I wasn't even that good.
That dream had faded just slightly then, if Taiga himself had not met me at the back of Crawl Green.
And even now, even as I sing my life out beside my closest friends, blasting music loudly just so everyone on Vivid Street could hear us, there were still people telling me that I was no where close to achieving that goal.
And although I held my friends close to me, knowing we could break down any wall, those remarks still hurt me, made me bleed from inside.
Never had I imagined that she, of all people, would help and support me, even in the slightest ways.