Chereads / To Be a Man at My Second Chance of Life [BL] / Chapter 4 - Do I feel sad? Extremely.

Chapter 4 - Do I feel sad? Extremely.

"If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Oh-oh, oh-oh~"

Do you know how some people cope with pain by being excessively positive? I never want to admit I'm one of those fellas. I just think of myself as someone who doesn't give a shit about how the world treats me. "They can break my body down, but they'll never break my spirit!" kind of thing.

Your typical protagonist settings. One who will take over the world with her charming demeanor. The perfect goddess in everyone's heart.

I thought Dakota Reeves is the female lead in my previous life. I have the perfect abused protagonist setting ever since I was little. My elite parents died in a tragic plane crash, and the relatives trying to get their hands on some of those left behind fortunes. I was just a little kid back then. Only eight years old. And I was already subjected to the cruel reality of what money does to people.

But, I thank god for my paternal grandpa, Adrian. He helped drive those pests away by selling the company.

"I'm too old to handle this, and you're too young to understand it. It's just a company. And this amount is enough to raise you until you can set up your own business in the future. Take it as an investment from your parents."

The innocent 10 years old me rebuked, "I don't want a company. I just want a restaurant. A restaurant where I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want, as much as I want."

I can still hear his hearty laughter in my head as if it was only yesterday we have this small banter. "Sounds good. Take me there someday."

I didn't get to take Grandpa to any of the Gobble Up branches. He died during my freshmen year in college.

I've attended two funerals by then. One of my parents'. And one of my Grandpa's. I don't like Grandpa's funerals. I hate seeing those relatives who never bothered about our wellbeing and only going after our fortunes greeted me with those fake sad faces and offered me their condolences with fake tears hanging by their eyes. It makes me wonder if they've been behaving the same way at my parents' funeral too.

As I watch people lowering the coffin, I tilted my head to the side. Bringing the gap between me and my then best friend, Emma, to a whispering distance. "When I die, I want an absurd funeral. Where people set off fireworks and hire clowns to perform the ceremony. I'd like to see the faces of these people then. Can they fake their sadness in such fanfare? Haha."

To that Emma replied, "You're already dead. How will you know the expression on their faces? The least you could get is an exclusive spot on a no-name tabloid of how embarrassing your funeral is."

Always as solemn as ever. Assessing the pros and cons of everything I say.

My best friend since middle school. With a history of more than 10 years of friendship. The second female lead in my last life. The right-hand woman that'll stand with me through thick and thin. My best friend...

Do I feel betrayed? Very.

Do I feel wronged? Very.

Do I feel angry? Very.

But do you know what the most annoying part is?

Do I feel sad? Extremely.

I don't want to cry. But thinking up to this, I can't help but bawl a little. (a lot actually)

The questions that I don't want to hear myself thinking, right now just echo incessantly in my head.

Why did she do this to me?

Was I that much of an eyesore in her eyes?

Has she been hating me this whole time?

What did I do wrong?

I don't know what I did to deserve this.

To me...she's my other half. The person who completes me. My only...family.

She doesn't have to go as far as to kill me if all she wants is my money. I'd gladly give all my fortunes to her if she asks me nicely. That's how much I appreciate her. But...why did you do this to me, Emma?

I now realized, Dakota Reeves was never the protagonist. She's just a random cannon fodder whose short life is used as someone else's stepping stone. I think too highly of myself back then.

Standing in front of these four tombstones is really bringing back some unpleasant memories. Haha...ha...

"Good evening, Grandpa. Good evening, Ma. Good evening, Pa."

I place a stalk of red rose I bought from the florist on my way to the graveyard on each of their tombstone. Briefly sweeping some dried leaves away while I'm at it.

"Excuse me for being broke, Ma. This is all I can afford for now. I'll get you your favorite bouquet of lavender once I get back on my feet."

"How are you doing, Pa? Is business good on your side? Glad you made some more profit. Remember to give me something expensive for Christmas."

"Grandpa, how's your fishing trip? Did you get to catch big ones this time?"

"Oh. I'm doing fine. Look here, I actually joined you guys down there. Haha...ha..."

I walked towards the tombstone next to my Grandpa's. A large Dakota Reeves was carved on it.

This time I fished out a small teddy bear stuffed toy from the paper bag I've been carrying and place it on my own grave.

"I brought my son with me. Have you guys seen him?"

"I haven't seen him. But I bet he's cute. Although his father is trash, I can't deny his attractiveness. With both our genes combined, the fella is surely going to grow up being a lady-killer."

"Too bad I don't get to see that. Haha. Please treat him nicely. He's my son after all. Your grandson. Your great-grandson, Grandpa."

"I bet he's scared right now. He's all alone down there. While I'm up here alive and well."

"Hm? He's not fussing? Sounds like a good boy. Glad you guys found him pleasant."

"..."

"..."

"I hope they really did bury my corpse here. Or else...my son will never found his family."

"That would be sad."

"..."

I don't know what else to say. All I can feel is sorrow and a heart-wrenching pain of loneliness. I think I'm going crazy. Look at me talking to tombstones and you guys, the imaginary spectator of my life journal.

"I miss you guys. Now I kind of regret not joining you guys down there for real."

"Sorry that I can't protect you, baby. But it's okay. My Ma, Pa, and Grandpa will take really good care of you. You have to listen to them. Don't be a naughty baby."

"When everything's settled down, I'll have your name engraved on my tombstone too. Sorry that you have to wait for a while. Haha..."

"Hm? You want to know your name? Well, it's Baby Reeves of course. You'll always be the baby in the family..."

"..."

I know, I look ugly when I cry. Especially in Aaron's body. even his ethereal looks can't save me some beauty points. But whatever. Just leave me alone and let me cry my heart out for now.

*****

Haa~!

That was nice. I've vented all the negativity that has been brooding in me in that small episode of break down. Hahaha!

What do you mean I've been crying there for almost two hours? Why are you keeping count even? I'm already downplaying this okay. If it's up to me, I'd like to cry myself to death. Humph!

I guess I look like a mess now, huh. Whatever. With all that has been going on with Aaron, the last thing I should be concerned about is my image, since that has been shattered a long time ago. Regardless, let's wipe off this sorry face for now.

Thunk!

From my kneeling and lowered head position, I can see a hand slowly retrieve after placing a box of my favorite spicy fried chicken on my tombstone.

I followed the hand's movement and finally settled on the face that is also staring at me with confusion painted clearly on that face. I have to crane my neck to take a good look.

A cute short guy with a clean haircut and bright big eyes. The face is too deceiving as his mouth is akin to that of machine guns. Firing off offensive comments regardless of time and place. The man that I paid quite an amount of money for, just so he could abuse me with his excessive public display of affection and provide unreasonable excuses of requesting days off which is actually just another PDA disguised as something else.

The gay super secretary that Edgar arranged for me. My personal nanny.

Devon West.

Thanks for the chicken, Devon. But why are you here?

"..."

"..."