He looked at the mirror, and a face that he was all to familiar with stared back at him with a charming smile. Who was that person? It wasn't him, that was for sure. After all he's been though, he shouldn't be smiling. But, why was he smiling in the first place? He was a nobody. He wasn't anyone important. He was...empty. Behind that smiling face was no one. Just a hollow shell. There was nothing behind that smile. There was no cruel demeanor or anything, there was no anger. No, but...
There, buried deep within this hollow shell of a human esper, was jealousy. Why was he jealous? He shouldn't be. And then...he thought about it. Now he remembered with a slight grimace. That obstacle that stood in his way was an average human with no powers. That person was worth nothing, almost like him. But, his angel still loved the human. More than he. The esper did not understand. Why him? Why not someone else? Why not me? He wondered. What's so special about him? His teeth grinded against each other as his hands clenched the counter tightly. She didn't see the nobody, she didn't see the person next to her, who cared.
She didn't see the empty shell. Suddenly his hand flew back and formed into a fist before slamming into the mirror. Shards flew. What was he worth? Absolutely nothing. Blood trickled down his forearm in small river-like patterns, almost reminding him of tears. The silent tears. The silent crimson tears continued to flow. He did not flinch in pain from the slight injury. He did not show any other emotion other than fake happiness. And with a wicked smile, he took a pocketknife from the counter, and slowly slid out the razor-sharp knife. Its metal seemed beautiful with just the way the light hit it's jagged blade perfectly. He took the knife into a clenched fist, and dug the blade into his uninjured hand. The pain seemed to numb his emotions despite its opposite definition. It was a sort of anesthetic. As the night was still young, it seemed to drag on for ages, and as always...
His questions remained unanswered.