Disclaimer: I don't own Vocaloid
You love him, don't you?
I'm not stupid, you know.
I can see it in your eyes.
Every time he walks by, your eyes.
They…light up.
With hope, desperation.
But you know he doesn't know.
Your afraid he'll never know.
Or he won't feel the same way.
So you hide.
You hide what you really feel.
Behind your mask.
Because you think suffering is better then rejection.
Am I right?
Yes, I know.
But are you sure about that?
I mean, come on.
People aren't stupid.
I'm not stupid.
We all see your eyes trace the contours of his face.
Land on his bright blue eyes.
You think they look like orbs.
Bright, blue orbs of life.
Laughter.
You wish you were the reason for his laughter.
But you aren't.
Are you?
No, I know you aren't.
It's that other girl, right?
The young one, with the teal hair.
You think she's gorgeous, beautiful.
Are you gorgeous, and beautiful?
You don't think so.
You think your old, and washed up.
You think no one likes you.
I mean come on, your pretty unpopular anyways, right?
Yea.
So you don't say anything.
You don't hint at anything.
You pretend to think he's an idiot.
When really, you think he's one of the most clever people you've ever met.
He thinks he's stupid.
Because you tell him so.
"Oh, Bakaito!" you say.
But you don't mean it.
You never mean it.
Not really.
You just wish he would notice you for once.
You liked it better back when it was just the two of you.
Back then, you were the only person he could talk to.
So he did.
He talked to you all the time.
About all kinds of things.
And you want those days to come back.
Don't you?
Yes, yes, I know.
But if that bastard can't see that.
Then you shouldn't even bother.
Why go searching for a something you already have?
What do you want, an admirer?
You have one.
You want love?
I'm right here.
But you don't see it.
Because like you, I also wear a mask.
And like you, I'm also afraid of rejection.
Because getting rejected by someone like you might kill me.
I'm sorry.
But I love you.
Meiko.
You can make her admirer whoever you want them to be, there's no set person.