Keith Kogane sat alone in the back of the room, a sigh escaping him as the teacher spoke on and on about...something. He didn't care enough to listen. His attention span was rather short nowadays, considering he was ignored anyway. 'Green.' Keith's eyes flicked from the professor to the boy in front of him. Lotor, his bully. It wasn't as bad as a movie might make it seem. Sure, Keith was often rendered miserable and defenseless against the large jock, but he wasn't exactly a depressed mess about it either. 'Yellow.' Keith glanced at Matt, the boy who crushed on him in elementary before realizing that red and black were not complimentary colors. Black was not a color at all. 'Red.' The class was slow and took longer than Keith would have liked. He already knew everybody's' colors by memory, and yet he was going through them again. "MR. KOGANE!" Keith jumped, tuning in to hear laughter and whispers around him. How many times was his name called? "Yes, Mr. Gre, ur, Garrison?" Keith had the habit of calling people by their colors rather than their names. The professor noted the mistake, and chose to ignore it. "I want you to explain the color spectrum and how it plays a role in our society." Keith sighed. He assumed he'd chosen him due to the fact that the spectrum did not apply to him. He took a deep breath and spoke.
"The color spectrum consists of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, and the different shades of each mentioned color. One could count indigo but considering it isn't relevant majority of the time, it is added as a shade of blue. The color spectrum connects to us as people due to the color we receive at birth. Every person is born with a birthmark on their wrist that is the color that they shall be known for. For instance, yours is green. Taking this example, I can explain that society has concluded that a person's ideal match would be their complementary color. Yours would be red, no matter the gender or age, you are most compatible with red. There are, however, defects to this." The teacher flinched and instantly asked Keith to sit, he denied and continued on. "Black is not a color." He hissed as he showed his wrist. "And yet, this is the bullshit I was born with. Not only does this make it impossible for me to be compatible with someone, but it also makes me not a person. At least, according to all of you." He clenched his fist. "I personally believe the color spectrum is a load of shit. But maybe that's just me?" He scoffed and plopped into his seat with crossed arms. Everybody was quiet for a while as Keith seethed in his seat. Lotor, of course, had to ruin Keith's mood some more. His bright yellow shirt did not speak for his disgusting personality. "Yo, Kogane! I know your ideal match. The trash can." Keith scoffed and stood, grabbing his backpack. "Learn to make better insults, though it's kind of hard to take you seriously anyway with the yellow spot on your wrist. Looks like piss." He stormed out, slamming the class door. He just wanted to go home. His parents were supportive of him, they were the only ones. They loved him unconditionally, despite being disappointed by his defect.
The moment he got home, he felt something was off. He lingered on his front porch as he looked around, noticing the house beside him was missing something. "I could've sworn this house was for sale..." The sign that was on the front lawn previously had been removed, and Keith instantly groaned. "Great, more people to make fun of me." He mumbled as he unlocked his front door. He flopped onto his bed, sighing quietly as he shut his eyes. He debated on ending himself in the past, but later decided that maybe life wasn't so bad. He was wrong. It was bad.
Keith felt so alone sometimes, considering nobody else really understood him. He didn't mean to be different. The color on his wrist should not define him, but it did. It meant everything. There was no room in society for the color black, because black was not a color.
...
The familiar sound of a truck backing up woke Keith from his slumber. A moan arose from his throat as he stretched. He glanced out his window, realizing it was still early and school was not over. He stood up, looking farther out to find the source of the noise. Just next door, Keith watched as a moving truck pulled out and drove away. "Oh...the family is here." He laid down, deciding to go back to sleep and ignore the family...until he had an idea. Maybe they'd accept him if they met him first before they heard the rumors. Keith sprang up and put on his shoes. His mullet had been matted down, but that was nothing to worry about for now. He didn't have time to nitpick about it, so he just left his home to see the neighbors. His heart pounded against his rib-cage as his hand hovered over the doorbell. 'Maybe I shouldn't-' The door swung open to reveal a man and a woman. The woman was green, the man was red. "Er. I was about to come greet you both. I live next door. I'm Keith Kogane." His breathing was visibly uneven, and the couple could tell he was nervous. The man shook Keith's hand in order to confirm that Keith was not just wearing black to be a rebel. Nope, that was his color. His eyes widened but he simply looked Keith in the eyes. "We're the McClains, it's a pleasure to meet you." The woman said happily before questioning his attire. "Black, hm? It's not really a color. I bet you get that a lot. It's unique in my eyes. We have a son, I think you'd really like him. He's around your age. We were about to leave to buy groceries, he's inside unpacking. Go on in and say hi." She smiled and Keith's nerves went away, but reappeared at the thought of being judged by someone his age. 'A son?' The McClains walked away and Keith walked inside the home. "Uh..hello? Your parents said to..." He trailed off, hearing a familiar song by Muse playing over a speaker. Keith followed the sound, arriving in a room full of boxes and a small, dancing boy. "Excuse me?" The boy jumped, turning to look at Keith. Instantly, they both froze. Keith knew why the other was rendered speechless, most people were when they met Keith. But for Keith, this was a new feeling. The boy that stood in front of him did not wear the colors of the spectrum, but instead, he wore a plain white shirt.
And as if that weren't enough, the mark on his wrist was a beautiful splotch of white.
'But white is not a color.'
