The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Split-up

Are bad boys made, or are they born?

This has been the question many philosophers have asked themselves through the centuries, with answers varying from the perhaps and the what ifs. The Greek philosopher and man literally known by his wrestler name, Plato—which literally translates to "Wide One"—said that men do no bad on purpose, and when they do, it comes from ignorance, rather than nature. Point for nurture, not nature.

German philosopher and man definitely not known for his wrestler name, Immanuel Kant, stated that humans are born bad, have a tendency to do bad, and those who are born "Good" will turn bad at the end like a banana forgotten in a child's backpack over the weekend. Granted, Kant hated humanity, and being a human overall, as even his last words before dying, knowing he was finally done with that meat prison he called existing, were "It is good." Also, he had a big forehead, which would've suited him best for the nickname of "Plato," but I digress.

Truth is, there is no hard evidence of whether bad boys are made or born, unless you want to get into eugenics, and trust me, nobody wants to get into eugenics. Of course, there is a third answer to the question, and the answer is "Yes." Does it answer anything? No, and frankly, it's not even a proper answer, but that's basically what English philosopher and definitely not a wide man, John Locke, answered when asked the question. To him, every person is born as a tabula-rasa, a blank-slate, and that both genes and nurture make a bad boy what he is.

I don't know John Locke, but I'm 100% sure that, given the option of a thousand ice cream flavors, he would order plain vanilla. But I would agree with him. Look at Hayden and Brayden. They look normal. Maybe in another country, another time, they could've lived non-bad boy lives. But because of the circumstances around them, they had to adapt. Hayden had to play football to get a scholarship. Brayden had to learn to be a crook to make his father proud. They're bad boys because of nurture, not nature.

Okayden, on the other hand, was born a bad boy. Werewolves and Vampires are practically born with six packs. He's made of bad boy. And me? Well.

I'm just like him.

I was born with a very rare mutation called Alexandria's Genesis. The mutation is mostly associated with purple eyes, smooth skin, dark hair, excellent metabolism, superior strength, and long lifespan. My body was made to be a bad boy, and to be hotly desirable. My body is a temple to be worshiped. That, with my allergy to non-leather or cotton fabric, sweat that smells like perfume, and dulcet voice makes me the ultimate bad boy.

Or, like so many kids called me growing up, an anime protagonist.

"Coolm so can you, like, make shadow clones and shit?" asks Brayden, being the dumb, uneducated fuck he is while drinking LaCroix Pure and swinging his legs back and forth.

"Brayden, make like a forest and burn in hell, will you?" I say, grabbing a pair of random shades from a box of lost and found Hayden found tucked in a corner of the infirmary. They were 3D glasses somebody obviously stole from a cinema. They smell like buttered popcorn.

"don't you wanna say, burn in the shadow realm?" adds Brayden. "you know, because anime."

Hayden hands me a pair of novelty shades from 2001, where the "o" are the shades. Jesus, how long have they been here? "Anime is not real, brother. It's a myth made by the Japanese to make Incels out of Western men as retaliation for dropping the atomic bombs. At least that's what my grandpappy used to say."

I grab another pair, this one having a comically large nose, mustache, and silly eyebrows. Somehow, these are the best so far. "Look, you dipshit twink, knock it off. I'm not an anime protagonist."

"Of course you are not," adds Okayden, sitting in a corner while reading a Footlocker catalog,

"You do not have spiky hair,