I've had this idea for a while now... It's probably stupid and no one will like it, or it'll be a hit and I'll get tons of reviews . Oh well, here it goes...

Kouji: She has no self esteem...

Kouichi: That's easy to see.

Me: SHUT UP OR I'LL MAKE IT SO YOU BOTH DIE AT THE END!

Kouji: ...

Kouichi: You already killed Kouji...

Me: and I'd do it again too... only because I love him so .

Kouji: ACK! ABUSIVE PARTNER!

Me: -- I'll go on with the one shot now...

Disclaimer even thou there's a general discalimer on the front page: Oh all the horrible little dark situations that would take place if I owned Digimon and all the corrupted characters that would enter... Good thing my terrifying little mind didn't create Digimon, huh? I also don't own the song, Perfect by Simple Plan that Kouji will sing. .

MASKED

He doesn't care... He really doesn't. He wants me to be this 'perfect son', if there IS such a thing. He wishes I was smarter, like Kouichi who is in Honors Calc. Thanks to him, I can't even divide. I'm lucky Zac taught me how to multiply. Dad forgot he had a son up until I was six. He came home one day during lunch, saw me and realized, 'Oh yeah, I created that thing on the couch' then he asked me why I wasn't in school. Hello, wake up call for Mr. Minamoto, YOU NEVER SENT ME THERE! As if that weren't bad enough, we never stayed at one place more than a month... Did you know the schools are never in sync with eachother? They aren't... I'd finally remember the order of operations, then we'd move and they were talking about inequalities at school...

I may be a better athlete than Kouichi, but neither of us have very strong bones. We're both pretty clumsy, even though we CAN muster up some strength when needed. So I'm not smart, athletic, or coordinated... all I have is music... and guess what, Dad hates that. The only reason he pays attention to me now is because I'm constantly in the news paper as 'The Youngest Member of Masked'. And here I am, preparing to record the last song for our new album, ID Please.

After this, life is going to be a living hell if it wasn't already. Before, we always wore masks to hide our identity, and we never used names. Thus our band name being Masked. This new album had a ton of solos on it. We are revealing our 'deepest thoughts' as Tohru, our band leader,described it.

"Hey, chin up Kou," Zac called, pulling me out of my dazed state. His hand was placed on my shoulder to comfort me, my nervousness obviously showing through. "It's not gonna be that bad."

I sighed. "I guess..."

"Nerves ain't gonna get you, are they?" I shrugged. I'm not sure it's entirley nerves that's making me feel so sick. Zac started to rub my shoulders, trying to loosen me up I suppose. "You'll be fine... now go in there and sing your song." With that, he pulled me off the couch I was sitting on and pushed me into the recording room. Through the large glass window, he gave me a thumbs up.

Zac's the closest thing to a real father that I have. He's 23 and he's probably the most drunk sober guy you'll ever meet. He's wacky and he drives without a licsens, but hey, he cares... He taught me how to ride a bike when I was 10. He plays catch with me when he's not too drunk to stand, and he helps me with my home work, all the things a father should do. But most of all, he's proud of me.

I have 2 solos on this album. One is a thank you to Zac for helping me through all this, and this one, the one I'm about to record is to my father. It explains pretty much everything I've been feeling.

Suddenly, that sickening feeling in my stomach recieves a name, guilt. I feel guilty! I'm about to confess to the world that my father sucks as a parent, and Zac has done more for me than anyone else in the entire world! My father, a business tycoon cannot compare to Zac, a drunken American who doesn't have a penny to his name... I wanted to puke. Suddenly, almost on an impulse, I heaved. Right then and there, on the studio floor, I released everything in my stomach.

Zac rushed over to me, rubbing my back in circles.

"Whoa kiddo, ok... try to breath, calm yourself..." he whispered gently. One I was done retching, he carried me out of there and allowed me to lie down on the couch. "Namiki, can you grab some ginger ale and a damp cloth?" he asked the only female member of our group.

"Yeah, hold on." She returned quickly, handing the ginger ale to Zac and placing the damp cloth on my forehead. "You ok Kouji-san?" she asked me.

"I think so," I replied.

"Well, even so, I want you to lie down for a bit. Try to drink some of this, it will settle your stomach," said Zac. I obeyed him, drinking as much of the fluid as I could. At some point, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was in my own bed, at my house, with my father.

Satomi, my step mother, walked in, carrying a damp cloth when she saw I was awake.

"Oh, Kouji, are you feeling better?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah, I guess," I answered.

"That's good. Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Well," she said as she took the cloth that had fallen off my forehead when I woke, "Dinner's ready." That meant dad wanted to see me, damn. The only time I was ever informed of dinner being ready was when dad wanted me down there so he could talk to me. Refusing wouldn't be a good choice. I slowly rose from the bed and began my walk to the end of the hallway. I may have to go sit at the same table with him, but I don't have to do it quickly.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, dad motioned for me to sit next to him. Damn times two. I try not to make a habit of cursing, Zac says it won't do me any good, and there are much more interesting words I could use to get my point across, but it's times like these that make me really have no other choice.

I took my place next to him and he handed me a plate with some food on it. I placed it down on the table and nibbled on some of it before he spoke.

"That Zac brought you home," he said. "Aparrently you vomitted in the recording room. No doubt because of drinking."

"I don't drink dad," I corrected him.

"You hang around that drunk too much, he's a bad influence on you." yeah, like HE would know what's bad for me, please.

"I like him."

"Why, because you know you're ging to turn out just like him?"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" My father slammed his fist down on the table, making the plates and glasses jump.

"OF COURSE IT WOULD BEA BAD THING!" he yelled, clearly out raged.

"Why?" I asked calmly, staring at my feet.

"WHY? He's going NO WHERE Kouji NO. WHERE. YOU SHOULD BE AN ACCOUNTANT!"

"Why?" I asked again.

"Because accounting will take you some where! Do you really want to end up with nothing? No son of mine is going to be living on the streets!"

"Since when do you see me as a son?" I mumbled. I suppose my mubling was clear enough for him to hear as he slapped me quite hard.

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK TO ME THAT WAY!"

"WHY SHOULDN'T I?" I yelled back, finally angred enough. I don't allow anyone to hit me and get away with it, even if it IS my own father. "YOU TALK TO ME THAT WAY ALL THE TIME!"

"YOU ARE MY SON! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK TO ME WITH SUCH DISRESPECT!"

"You have to earn respect to be treatred with it," I said coldly. "I will never respect you." And with that I ran out of the house. At first, I wasn't sure where I was going, but I ended up at the studio. I walked into the recording room, and started the machines. Lucky for me, no one was there, seeing as it was well past 10 by this time. I never realized how far a run the studio was from my house. I grabbed a spare acustic guitar and walked into the large room, placing the head phones on my head.

My fingers ran over the strings for a brief moment as I fingered the first chord. As I started to strum, the words just spilled from my mouth.

"Hey, dad, look at me. Think back and talk to me. Did I grow up according to plan? And do you think I'm wasting my time doing this wanna do? But it hurts when you disapproved all along. And now I try hard to make it, I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you. I can't pretend that I'm alright. And you can't change me, cause we lost it all. nothing lasts forever. I'm sorry, I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back. I'm sorry I can't be perfect. I try not to think about the pain I feel inside. Did you know you used to be my hero? All the days you spent with me now seem so far away, and now it seems like you don't care anymore. And now I try hard to make it, I try hard to make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you. I can't stand another fight. And nothing's alright, cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever. I'm sorry, I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back i'm sorry I can't be perfect. Nothing's gonna change the things that you said and nothings gonna make this right again. Please don't turn your back, I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you, but you don't understand. Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever I'm sorry I can't be perfect."

As I finished the song, i walked out of the room and turned off the recording. I'd let the technictions deal with the buffering and all that crap. I walked out of the recording room without feeling the least bit sick. Even my conscious believed this was a nessisary evil.

Once I got back outside, I realized that it had started raining. It matched the way I was feeling inside. Funny how weather does that. It's like nature can sense when you're feeling upset.

I walked around in the dark, the raining pouring down on my head. I thought I heard thunder a few times, and I may have seen lightening but I wasn't really paying much attention. The end of my walkbrought me to a bar. I just stood outside the door, my legs spread apart, my head hanging low, my hair falling out of its pony tail. I looked up without moving my head. I don't remember what Iwas staring at, or if I was doing anything as I stared, like glaring or, god forbid, crying. I only clearly remember someone gently picking me up and carrying me into their warm, dry car. And I remember being slapped pretty hard.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" Zac yelled at me. "I was worried sick! your father called me, yes, called ME and told me you ran off." Despite the fact that I had just been slapped for the second time tonight and that I was freezing and cold, I grabbed onto Zac, burrying my face into his chest.

"I wanna go home..." I mumbled. He knew what I meant. The house my father lived in was not 'home'. Home was with Zac. I felt him nod as he pulled away from me and buckled my seat belt. As we drove through the rain, I felt the side of my check.

Zac's never gotten mad at me before. I guess he was pissed because I went out in the rain. Right now, I really didn't care though. At least he had just slapped me. Had I gone back to my father, I might have been beaten. Scratch that, would have definitetly been beaten. Dad hates me, that's pretty obvious.

"Call your brother when we get there, ok?" Zac's voice came suddenly.

"Ok..." I said quietly. Zac stopped the car. He placed his hand on my injured cheek, running his thumb over it slightly.

"Hey, sorry about that kiddo..." he said. "You just really worried me. Why did you go out in the rain like that?"

"I didn't want to go back..."

"Why didn't you just come over in the first place?" A smirk suddenly appeared on my face.

"I'll show you... go back to the studio." I wanted him to know that he WAS a better parent than my father. I've never told anyone what I've said here. And only a few people heard the solo about Zac, but no one's heard the one about my father. I'm finally going to come clean. I guess that's what Tohru wanted this album to do. We're taking off the mask.

Soooooooooooooo... how'd I do? Was it good, bad, or just not worthing voting? Well, review please. SERIOUSLY! REVIEW!