Premise
Staring at my reflection only reinforces what everyone else sees. I'm an attractive twentysomething; well dressed and mannered. Charismatic. Charming. Bright. A literary man I am; a recent literature graduate. To everyone, I am seemingly perfect in everyway. What they see–is merely a facade. But, I didn't always feel this way; a combination of circumstances and choices made me this way.
My truer self at present is quite misunderstood; heavily marked by stigmatism. Even my beloved, literature, distorts it with narratives of demonizing criminals of the dark abyss–hidden in the shadows; many turned villianous by circumstance. However, unlike these fictional beings I am seen in plain sight, innocent of any wrongdoings. My unconscious desires had–only–recently surfaced. So, how could I have known I would have turned out like this; could this truely be by circumstances and choices? Or, maybe—has it always been there, innately, inside of me.
Well, the way I believe it these days, everyone has hidden desires; their darker sides; their truer selves. Those who become aware of it try to hide behind masks; others who embrace it wear wooled skins of sheep and adventure out, all while blending in with society. But, once the mask cracks, the skin tears, the hidden desires began to surface and the need is filled through consumption of the very desire surpressed. Preservation can be a troubling task. So much goes into crafting a facade.
I tried my best to wear my mask, preversing it. Then, along came my tutee, Eiri Uesagi. A good and honest boy whose cheerful presence began to chip away my mask. Eiri, who became my ultimate undoing.
I, too, was a good boy... once.
A/N: Apologies, I had uploaded the rough draft by mistake.
This is what was posted previously:
Prologue
Staring at my reflection in the looking glass only reinforces what everyone else sees. I'm a twentysomething, well dressed. I come from a prosperous home; naturally, studying abroad had been of my privilege–pursuing English and Literature at Columbia University in the city of New York. With charisma and charm, and god given intelligence, I was at the top of my graduating class.
Seemingly perfect in everyway, literature bested my true nature with narratives of monsters, demons, and immortals from the dark abyss–hiding in plain sight. The way I figured it, everyone serves a different purpose. Like many wolves in the wooled skins of sheep, I am no such such creature. I am Yuki Kitazawa and I am merely Tom, Tom, the piper's son.