As a child, most want to be a rock star or a fireman, but there will be that one person who will do things that are strange, and they have an odd dream.
These children are rare.
I was one of these children, sitting alone as my peers laughed and played while I found comfort in my small little world of heroes and heroines. I was a strange child, as strange as one might be at that age.
As I grew older, I tried to fit in and I did. I did sports, acted like the others.
This all changed when I got older though.
As I got to the point in my life where I was supposed to try and get with a girl, I didn't. My parents encouraged me to get out of the bubble of my superhero world and find myself a girl.
All the girls here were nice, but I think they could tell I was strange, that I wasn't like the rest of males in my town.
I was a freak to them, simply because I wasn't attracted to them.
I wasn't the freak though. They were.
When I came out as being a 'fag', I was shunned in my tiny town. I was ignored. I was bullied.
It continued to the point that my parents hated me.
Do you know how horrible it is to have the two people who have stood behind you your whole life, who loved you, who had faith in you give up all the feelings they had for you?
I tried to get over it, and survived my high school years, avoiding the people who used to love me and used to be my friends.
I went to college after I graduated. I moved to a big city, where I could hide in the crowds and not be noticed. I hoped that no one followed me to this city.
I hoped no one would know that I was a 'freak'.
I met a girl; I got married and had children. I even got a job as a lawyer! It was what my parents wanted; it made them happy.
Married to beautiful woman, having children, I just didn't know what to do. Was I supposed to love them?
Was I supposed to actually want to care?
I faked loving them. They disgusted me.
I spent much of my time away so I couldn't look at those wide blue eyes of my son looking at me. I came back late.
My wife thought I was cheating.
I was not. Going to a stripper bar is not cheating. Whoever told you that is stupid.
Even if there was some smoking hot stripper there.
I never touched her, even when I found out she was a male. He still had the sexiest legs I had ever seen.
My wife still divorced me, and took that stupid child with her. She didn't deserve a hero like me.
She obviously didn't see how heroic I was.
After she left me, that stripper started showing more interest in me. It turns out his name was Arthur, and he was actually pretty smart.
He was also mean as fuck.
God, he yelled at me so often for calling him the nickname Artie, I got used to it.
Besides, those where his bad qualities, and he still had good ones; for one, he was a good cleaner and organizer, as I found out after I invited him to stay at my now empty place when he told me he was losing his apartment. I don't know how we got so close, but we did.
I could list the great things about the guy, but that would take way too long, so I will continue with the story.
After the grumpy stripper moved in, I learned (yes Artie, it is learned, not learnt!) he was from London. He told me about his life there, which I listened to quite enthusiastically. I also told him about how my life went and he freaked out and tried to kill my mom when she visited.
Soon, we started going out, and surprisingly, Arthur quit his job and started to stay at home. I would go out and come home to see him smiling.
For the first time, I was actually happy with someone.
Although we were happy, our neighbors saw us holding hands and doing romantic things and judged us the freaks of the town. The word spread fast, and everyone began to hate us. I didn't lose my job, but they all hated me, and Artie was picked on by the women on the block. I was lucky he knew how to defend himself, and quite frankly I am surprised I could to.
They all went apeshit when we actually said something back.
We soon become the worst people to know in this town.
Everyone hated us. They screamed at us. They spit at us. They hit us.
There was this one man who came to town one day. He was a tall man, hell he was taller than me. I say he was around six foot five inches, had this redish brown hair and crazy crimson colored eyes. Plus, the guy wore a bomber jacket, and he kept on glaring on everyone and talking about how we were all going to die.
He was surprisingly the only one that left us alone.
He came to us one night, with this really miserable looking face (he looked like a mixture of sad and annoyed). He told us to take care of a child who looked like himself, but with more tan and (even as a baby) a meaner expression on his face.
The kid is growing up now.
He is so mean to Artie and me, but we love him, as much as we can. He always hits things and tears things up. Such a bratty child, but he has such a depressing outlook on life. The kid keeps on telling me that there is no point in trying to have a good job because it will just work you to your death.
He is kind of creepy.
We all live here now, somewhat happy, just trying to live our lives.
Author's note: Well, I got the idea of the 3p!Alfred(I say it is a mixture between 2p! and 1p!) from a dream... The younger 2p!Alfred is the really mean 2p!Alfred. The prequel(and sequel) will have more characters, I hope I can make it work. The key word is hope.