Fake

#1

"C'mon, punk!" He heard one scream as his back slammed perfectly against the brick wall behind him. He coughed a bit, wiping a thick, crimson liquid from his face. He looked up, a smile plastered on his now very bloody face.

His eyes were lying. So was his smile.

When he got the courage looked up, they were looking at him, smiling. Emotionless... Effortless. A lady walked by as one guy in the back clenched his fist, as his now very light fist collided with a bruised and cut jaw. Blaine tried over and over, but if he stood, they'd beat him back down. Literally.
It got worse everyday. He'd say his blade was his best friend, but it wasn't. He didn't even think about the metal object any time he violently dragged it across his now recently bumpy wrist. There's nothing he could do anymore, he was just afraid. He was Bipolar, he had S.A.D (seasonal affective disorder), and the worst of all, depression. Blaine had no friends, at all, and his mom left him, soon after his dad left him. He lived in an orphanage for a while, then got some beautiful, smart, nice parents. Two moms. One passed away a few years later, the other raised him with a smile, though he knew she was hurting.
He's 19 now, but right before he left for college his mom opened up to him about how she always felt. Blaine also visits the hospital everyday, like the cafe twice a week. There's a lot that goes with this strange man.

So let's just start.