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Your Mika stories


AmyWings

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So I was wondering: do you guys ever write about Mika? Whether it's a story, a litle text or a whole fanfiction?

 

I love writng, and while listening to Beautiful Disaster, I kinda got inspired to write something, like an ongoing fanfiction. I'm gonna post what I wrote so far and you guys can tell me what you think of it? (Also keep in mind English, although I love it and everything, isn't my first language so there might be mistakes, I'm sorry in advance).

 

Please post your writings, I'm really interested! I never really came accross any stories (as if in a lot and actually readable  :naughty: ) on the Internet, here's your moment to show us your talents  :thumb_yello:

 

(PS: Of course I trust you guys to not take my story and claim it as your own. Copyrights and everything  ;))

 

 

BEAUTIFUL DISASTER

 

 

'Do you trust me ?'

'Of course I do.'

'Well, come on then, I need to know what happened. I want to help you get out of this... thing, this state of mind that you're trapped in. Share your story with me.'

 

Mika took a big breath, staring into the pleading eyes facing him.

'Okay.'

 

 

'I didn't ask for this. How am I going to make it ? How can I possibly make it without snapping ?'

The typical questions were running messily inside Mika's mind while he exposed smiles. Confusing, depressing, heartbreaking and slightly frightening. As he was getting older, his thoughts became darker and darker, until the fifteen year-old looking back at him in the mirror couldn't even recognize himself. His reflection scared him at least as much as he scared his surroundings. His mum, although giving him all the love she could, couldn't reassure him. His sisters, their hugs and smiles couldn't possibly help him in the long run. His little brother, too busy playing with his toys, couldn't make him feel better either. And his dad, himself still struggling to go on in life after what had happened to him years and years ago during the golf war, had a hard time focusing on Mika's well being despite his unconditional love. His whole family had always taught him to stay happy, keep his head up and try to be as much of a good person as he could possibly be, so he put an act trying to look okay on a daily basis when all he wanted was to stay in bed and cry for hours. Of course, his parents knew it was fake when he came home with bruises on his cheek a couple years back.

 

Bruises? What happened?”

Bullying.”

 

Mika's mum, Joanie, had taken him on the side to avoid scaring his siblings. After he tried to lie and say he fell on the ground, he just looked at her, eyes filled with tears. She sighed, hugged him, told him everything was going to be okay, that soon they would stop harassing him, that it was just a 'phase'. Those words, Mika held onto them for years, but when he saw nothing was getting better, only worse, he started doubting she was right.

At first, they would only call him weird and forbid him to join them at lunch. Mika hadn't said anything, thinking they were probably right but didn't care – or so he pretended. 'It's much more beneficial to be alone and free than surrounded by idiots' his mother always said. Slowly, a few people became a few teams leagued against him. More and more kids decided he wasn't a normal human being because of his flamboyant looks and odd interests, and deserved to be punished for that. So the words became harsher as they got older, more painful. 'Weird' became 'faggot', 'idiot' became 'scumbag' and 'waste of space'. Feeling rejected, lonely, hated, Mika started to create a world inside his head where he felt secure. But every time someone called him for whatever reason, his bubble burst and he suddenly felt his feet on the cold floor, his empty mind desperately focused on trying not to have his big brown eyes water.

School didn't help him feel at home either. Growing up dyslexic in France, it hadn't been easy for him to suddenly change his language when his family moved to London. Lost in a whirl of new words, he outdid himself in order to adopt a new culture and somewhat fit in. Although in a French school, his struggles only got worse over time. He kept mixing the two languages, and could barely read at times. But instead of giving him special help, his teachers would yell at him for getting bad grades, telling him he was a failure and would never make it in life with such an attitude. Mika never told them his struggles – at first.

 

But it didn't change anything when I did.”

Why?”

They didn't care. I got expelled a couple days afterward.”

 

His dad went nuts when Mika came back home that day and told his parents the school wanted to get rid of him.

'What did you do? Do you have any idea how expensive that is to send you there? We can't afford paying the rest of the year for nothing.” his dad said.

“Dad, I told them I had troubles reading and writing despite me trying extremely hard a few days ago. They laughed and asked me to shut my lying mouth and go back home.”

“They told you to shut up?” his mum indignantly exclaimed.

Her son stayed silent while staring at nothing above her shoulders.

 

So what did you do once they -”

- got rid of me like a piece of garbage? I felt relieved, at first. My mum especially really supported me, I found a job as a waiter so I could afford piano lessons. But even then, the troubles kept coming in.”

 

Now working, Mika's dad indeed decided his son was brave enough to hold on and agreed with his wife when she said yes to pay half of his piano lessons. Mika was thrilled, this sudden change in his life wasn't turning out so bad after all. He had a pretty regular life, getting up at eight in the morning four times a week, secretly trying to find some chords on his piano and compose whatever he could, going to bed early. Working cleared his mind, he didn't have to think about anything but his customers' desires, and even though it could get boring or stressing in the long run, at least he felt free. Nobody really cared or knew him there, and Mika wasn't complaining.

 

Well, except one time.”

What do you mean?”

One guy kinda reminded me where I was coming from, if I may say.”

 

Winter was coming. The curly haired teenager had turned 16 in August which was a scary thought to think about. Time was flying way too fast to Mika's tastes and he had started to feel anxious about life in general. After a couple months, he had managed to save enough money to start having his piano lessons. His mum helped him find a teacher, who turned out to be a Russian women with supposedly lots of experience with beginners. What her paper didn't say though, was that she was beyond severe and quite unfriendly despite Mika trying his best to behave and come out nice. The first lesson scared the crap out of him, but her ways of teaching aside, he slowly started to get better and could finally feel proud of himself.

 

Those lessons were something. I was equally scared and excited to have them once a week!”

 

But a couple months had indeed passed since his first butchered try at reading a piano sheet, and the weather was indeed getting cold. Everyone started to feel a bit depressed. Everything was gray and sad looking, and Mika was no exception: his mood declined pretty quickly. His mind started to think too much again, his smiles were getting more rare without totally disappearing.

 

So, everyone was pretty down, you were down too. But who's that guy you're talking about?”

I was about to get through this.”

 

While life went on, Mika was going on with his life. He was used to work by now and even became a little close to his colleagues – enough to not feel weird around them, at least. Nobody minded each other, it was overall a pretty friendly atmosphere, until one day a client decided otherwise.

 

You know, I was sitting at an empty table during a break, minding my own business, when a guy who must have been a couple years older than me came to my face. I was wondering who that could be since I haven't had anyone talking to me at the restaurant – my colleagues aside. So I looked up and saw his face. He looked like he wanted to murder me. Literally.”

What did you do to make him so angry?”

To this day, I still don't know.”

 

Mika had had a normal morning, and had never seen this man before. He kept wondering what was wrong with him as the conversation started.

 

He asked me and I quote, 'What the #### are you doing sitting on your ass?'”

Okay, that's lovely.”

So I got up to face him, but I was still calm, and I told him that I was in my break and, you know, asked him how my spare time was any of his concern. But keep in mind, I was still extremely nice to him. He was a customer, so I had to act cool.”

 

But Mika's attempts to calm the guy miserably failed as his face became angrier.

“I was sitting at this table, there, do you see that thing there, with chairs around? Yes, a table.”

“Well, I wouldn't expect you to do anything else in a restaurant” Mika had answered statistically but still trying to cheer the blonde.

“Don't you ####ing dare.” He answered, threatening. “I'm waiting for someone to come and take care of me and all I see is your s**tty face smiling at some paper on a dirty table.”

 

I mean, this guy clearly forgot how to human being.”

Ha!”

 

Mika had started to feel his anger rising, mixed with a slight fear of what might happen due to his past. But he decided that customer or not, that asshole wasn't allowed to treat him like a slave.

“I saw you over there. But I'm having a break, and it's not my job to take orders anyway.”

“I don't give a s**t what your job is. Your job right now is to please me. That's all you are to me.”

The anger, the bad day, Mika could understand, forget and even forgive. But this particular sentence hit him harder than he'd thought. All the memories came back and he felt his whole body froze as the man facing him got dangerously closer and closer to him.

 

 

To be continued...

 

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Hi, we made the decision a long time ago to not publish most Mika fan fiction on the MFC. There are few threads that might have some, but in general we don't post it here. There are plenty of blog sites, like wordpress, if you want to publish it there. :thumb_yello:

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