It was simple really.
He was useless.
Nothing more to say.
He worked so hard, harder than anyone else in his grade. He had to learn a brand new language, as if that wasn't hard enough. He also had to figure out how to do things he never had to do before. He learned how to read English, how to speak and write it.
But sometimes life doesn't bother to reward how hard you work. You could work harder than any other person and still end up on the bottom.
And that was Lance's problem.
He scanned the sheet posted on the wall, looking hopefully for his name. "McClain, McClain, c'mon where's my name?" he had muttered to himself, stopping when he finally found it.
On the very bottom.
He sighed sadly, disappointment pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He had failed again. Of course he did. He took a deep breath before putting up his facade and turning back around to greet his friends.
"Damn," he said with exaggerated frustration. "I didn't make it."
"Aw no, really?" a nameless face in the crowd said sarcastically. "I totally didn't see that coming."
Lance but back his sadness, knowing that he had no right be upset over this. After all if he failed than it must be his fault, right?
Lance kept up the exhausting mask, hoping that no one would be able to see through it.
And as he led others away from his true feelings, he missed the curious violet eyes that bore into his back.
==================
He was hoping that he could fix it, maybe impress his new friends in the process as well.
But Lance forgot one crucial piece of information.
He was ridiculous stupid.
He heard the zap before he felt the burn on his finger. He heard his new friend Hunk look at him in shock when the recognizable electric shock noise sounded through the room.
"Oh my gosh! Lance," he cried. "Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt!"
Lance waved his injured hand up and down quickly, too fast for the newly gathered crowd to see the burn on his fingers. He then quickly hid his injured hand behind his back. "I'm fine, see?"
"If you say so, buddy." Hunk said with a laugh and a shake of his head.
Lance laughed, making it seemed like he was better than he really was. Don't let them see the pain, no one wants to know about it. No one cares.
He once again missed the extra set of eyes, staring at his burned hand from behind him.
=================
Lance sat in the dark room, his eyes taking in the passing stars systems greedily. He needed something to distract him from his most recent failure at Beta Traz. How had he managed to screw up that badly? Although, knowing himself he wasn't exactly surprised.
He was such a fuck up.
He thought he had some sort of value to the team. After all, the blue lion chose him right? She wouldn't have done that unless she saw some sort of worth in him. Right?
Wrong.
He thought maybe he was like the sharpshooter or something. After all his bayard was a sniper rifle, that had to mean something. Right?
Wrong.
It was obviously just a coincidence. No, those twelve years going to the shooting range with his father meant nothing, it was clearly just a random occurrence. After all no one else thought he was the team sharpshooter.
He was useless.
Simple.
Nothing more to it.
He snuggled closer to his pillow, letting a single tear fall down his face.
Don't show your true emotion, they'll hate you.
==================
Don't show your true emotion.
They'll hate you.
===================
They'll hate you.
====================
Lance shot at the bot, hoping not to be any more incompetent than he already was. If he could improve his shot, then maybe he'd be more useful to the team. If he could just get better at hand to hand combat, or maybe he'd learn how to shoot properly and his team wouldn't hate him.
Lance sighed when he saw how badly he'd failed the simulation.
"Useless," he mumbled to himself.
"Lance?" Lance jumped when he heard Shiro's voice. He turned to see Shiro standing in the doorway, looking at him in concern. "What are you doing in here this late?"
"Late?" Lance asked numbly.
"Lance it's two am."
"Oh." Lance shrugged. "I guess I just lost track of time."
Shiro narrowed his eyes. "yeah," he said skeptically. "I don't believe that. You've been acting strangely for a while now. What's going on?"
"Nothing," Lance said, avoiding Shiro's curious gaze.
"Lance..."
"I just want to get better," Lance said. "You know, don't want to drag the team down further."
"Further?"
"You know," Lance said waving his hands wildly. "I always mess up, and ruin missions. I have to get better or you'll kick me out."
"Lance that's not true," Shiro said. "You're plenty helpful."
Lance laughed. "Sure Shiro."
"Lance, please," Shiro said, starting to get nervous at how crestfallen Lance was acting. "Tell me what's going on. I just, I...I don't understand."
Lance sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Everyday I tell myself, 'keep on smiling, everything will be fine.'," Lance says looking Shiro. Shiro sucks in a deep breath. "But I'm never fine."
"Lance--"
"Even now," Lance cut in. "Aboard the castle, the thought comes and goes,"
"What if I'm just the seventh wheel?"
