Neil - Hidden
He always had his mirror with him, but that was just to keep up appearances, in both ways, ironically. Of course, he was the descendant of Narcissus; a little vanity was to be expected. Hell, he'd been given Aphrodite as his mentor, vanity was encouraged! But now, standing in his room in front of his panel of three angled, full-length mirrors, all he could see behind the pretty face was a little boy who didn't even know who he was. He wondered for a moment, as he 'fixed' his already perfect hair out of habit, what he would have been like if he had been ugly or just average. Maybe he would have been a more likeable person; perhaps he would have more genuine friends.
It was funny, really. Everyone thought that the pretty people got everything: the friends, the romance, the power, the money, the happiness. Maybe that's what people thought he had, and they were dead wrong. Before he had met the team the friends were fake, the romance was meaningless flings, the power was a façade and the happiness was his best smile plastered on for the cameras. Sure, there was the money, but soon enough the amounts seemed obscene and the sight of anyone struggling to earn their pittance of a wage fed the guilt that gnawed at his soul.
Then he met the team. It only took him two days to realise how fake his personality was, how much he hated it. But it was too late to change such a fundamental part of himself. Though it was uncomfortable and ill fitting, he had grown into his personality and to change it now would only present a weakness that he could not afford to expose. Maybe when this was all over he'd move to the UK or Australia, maybe even America if he was desperate, and start himself anew.
He really did wish he could change now; maybe then he would have a chance. Because, funnily enough, he had fallen in, well, he refused to call it love, but it would have to be pretty close to love if it hurt that badly all the time. He was kinda, not really, in love with one of the team. And they were nothing like the fluttery, beautiful airheads he had previously dallied with. Including the fact that the certain someone was a he, which had cause a fair bit of initial denial on his part.
He remembered every cruel remark he had made to try and make the feelings go away. He wouldn't be surprised if the descendent of Odysseus hated him. And now he could never capture his attention, nor deserve it. His modelling 'friends' would all gush about how wrong he was, about how he could get "anyone he wanted". If Archie knew he'd probably snort and say something along the lines of "well, duh". Knowing that did not help the aching want. And again he wondered if he had been less beautiful, more likeable, would he have a hope or a chance? He doubted it.
Being uglier did not make you smarter or make guys more inclined to want you. Odie deserved someone as intelligent as he was and definitely female as it was obvious that the techno-savvy boy was straight as a pin. He looked into the mirrors and tried to picture what they would look like together. And as much as it hurt, it didn't look right. They were so mismatched it was painful. Dark and pale, short and tall, earth and 'cultured'. And then his imagination faded and he was alone. He sighed heavily and wondered if his luck was enough to counteract three broken mirrors. He somehow knew it could, but desperately wished it couldn't.
Reviews would be lovely. I hope to update this fic daily, so hopefully it will be finished within a week (one chapter per team member). Tomorrow, Archie.