Stigma
Plural Stigmata / stig - mä - tə, 'stig- mə - tə\ or stigmas
Definition; a mark of dishonor or discredit
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I was hopeless. At least... in my parents' eyes. I was a disgrace to them.
"You want to become a singer?" My father exclaimed, a huge frown on his features. "You realize how stupid and hopeless that silly dream is, correct?"
"It's not silly! I will show you all," I growled, pushing myself away from the table and rushed towards my room. My older brother kept his head down, silent tears streaming down his face. He knew what I was going to do.
When I got to my room, I grabbed my bag packed full of supplies and clothing that was hidden in the far corner under my bed, and next my rope. Slinging it out of my windowsill, I tied it securely around my door handle and then climbed down it.
Right as I reached the bottom, I could hear my parents screaming at me from behind my door. That's when I ran full speed through my neighborhood.
When running, I tripped on someone's foot under a bridge and skid to the ground.
"Oh! Are you okay?" It was a man- boy.
"'M fine," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Just scraped m'knee."
The boy said nothing, just helped me up and checked over my knee. He seemed the same as me. A bag like mine was at his feet.
"'M so sorry. I was just heading towards Seoul," the boy bowed his head, looking over at his bag.
"Idol?" I whispered, not being able to believe my own mind.
"How'd y'know?" He widened his eyes, fluffy brown hair creating a quick halo ad it flew when he whipped his head towards me.
"I'm doing the same exact thing," I nodded towards my bag.
"Min Yoongi," he held out his hand, that I shook.
"(L/n) (Y/n)," I smiled. "Let's travel together, alright?"
"Let's," Yoongi smiled a beautiful gummy smile, eyes scrunching up.
I'm not a disgrace. My parents could fuck off.
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Thumbs up?
Thumbs down?
Neither because it was so shit? Same.
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