#langstwhynot

“-but before we can bring out the citizens, we will need a distraction. Something that-“

“What,” Lance interrupted Shiro, obviously bored. “Am I not a good enough distraction to take off course a whole Galra fleet?”

Stop talking.

“I mean, have you ever took a look at this face?” Lance pointed at himself.

Shut up, ugly.

“I sadly have.” Pidge snorted, her eyes still plastered on the laptop screen.

Idiot.

Lance knew Pidge used sarcasm. He could hear it in her voice. Lance has known Pidge long enough to notice she always thought before she talked, and would try to make the best out of every situation.

Her comment was just a friendly tease. Between Pidge and him.

Yet it scarred his mind.

Lance could tell he was zoning out, but he didn’t care. He was tired of all the words thrown at him, words to point out his flaws. He used to scold himself as well, when no one seemed to be around.

He wasn’t the smartest, or the strongest, or the quick thinker or the strategist. Heck, he wasn’t even the prettiest. He had no tag, no name to go by. Nothing. Just like he was, nothing.

That was why Lance desperately tried to hold onto even the simplest name, no matter what it was. Was he the annoying one? Did he talk to much? Cool. That was now his new goal.

He could see it, how people and aliens from all around the world would talk about the mighty Voltron. About Shiro, the brave leader. Keith, the feared by all fighter, Shiro’s right hand. Pidge, the smart and talented girl. Hunk, the kind and powerful engineer. Allura, the strong and admired princess. And let’s not forget Coran, who was their most trusted scientist and uncle to all aboard the ship.

Maybe Lance could be mentioned. A background character seemed the best fit for him.

Because, come on. Lance? He wasn’t an important part of the team. He never brought anything to the table other than his huge ego and lame jokes.

Old Lance would cry about it, at how much it pained him not to belong. Old Lance would try to be better, thrived to be enough. Old Lance would hide in his room until he felt like he could talk without bursting into tears, because he in no way would let people see him break down.

But that was old Lance.

And Lance wasn’t his old self anymore.

Lance wasn’t Lance anymore.

What was Lance, other than a facade, anyway?

No. This Lance didn’t care about any of that stuff. This Lance could simply walk into the bathroom and beat himself up, with no reason to. Just because he deserved it.

This Lance would stare as people called him names and shamed him. What else can he do?

This Lance would lie awake in his bed and wish for sleep to take him because he was just so done with his mind and self-hatred.

This Lance didn’t care. About anything.

Pidge called him ugly.

So she did. And he was. And that’s a fact.

“-acne?”

Lance slowly turned to face Hunk, who was sitting beside him. His friend Hunk was frowning, scanning his face with concerned eyes. “You okay, buddy?”

Lance stared at him, and then slightly smiled.

What a sunny day it is. The leaves on the trees are at their highest peak of green, the birds are singing, the sky is blue with pretty, fluffy, white clouds,

And yet, Lance was unhappy.

The six of them sat around a rounded red table at the front of the school. It was lunch break, and Wednesday, which meant-

“This,” Pidge bit on her slice of pizza. “This should get a raise.” She pointed at the food in her hands.

Keith raised his eyebrow at her. “It’s just pizza.” He clarified, as it wasn’t obvious. She nodded happily and took another bite.

“I’m glad we get to eat together on this fine noon,” Allura smiled warmly at her friends. “Such a beautiful day, I’m honored to be spending it with you all.”

Shiro agreed. “The weather is great, and the food is actually good for a change.” Hunk laughed because he had to admit, the cafeteria food sucks. Pidge and Lance have tried to convince Hunk to tell the old cafeteria lady that her food is disgusting, but the big guy just doesn’t have the heart to do so.

Keith was arguing with Pidge over a silly thing as what is the best kind of pizza, while Hunk, Allura, and Shiro discussed their upcoming tests and projects.

All the conversations around Lance just blurred along to the other people in the same area as the group. He could form no words that came from his friends’ mouths, nor that he wanted to.

He was too busy playing with his cold slice of pizza on his plate to be paying attention to anything.

“Yo dude, you gonna eat that?”

He stared up at Pidge, who was pointing at his full plate. He shook his head. “Go ahead.”

Pidge blurted a quick ‘thanks’ with a small smile, grabbed Lance’s pizza, and got back to her argument with the mullet man.

A big hand was placed on his shoulder, and Lance flinched. “Dude,” someone called him.

The Cuban boy faced Hunk, and the other teen said, “You look terrible.”

Lance scoffed. “Thanks, man.”

Hunk sighed and took his hand off. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Lance blinked slowly. He turned his head to notice Pidge lecturing Shiro about how “it’s your fault that your brother is so dumb”, and Keith being physically held down by Allura.

Typical day.

“Lance.”

He turned back to Hunk and sighed. “What do you want me to say, Hunk?” Lance asked, clearly annoyed. “Sorry I’m ruining your lunch, sorry I’m interrupting your conversation, sorry I exis-”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Hunk asked quietly, his face probably softer than a pillow.

Lance stared at Hunk for a few moments, processing the question before answering “No, I don’t. Thank-“

“You can’t keep this up, buddy.”

The Cuban boy raised an eyebrow at his best friend’s worried face. “Excuse me?”

Hunk sighed. “We have eyes, Lance. We can see something is wrong, we all ca-“

Lance shook his head. “No, no.” He took a deep breath. “Look, this is a beautiful day, buddy pal! Enjoy the weather, enjoy your quality time with your friends,”

“But I can’t enjoy it if I know my friend is sufferi-“ Hunk started, and was stopped by Lance, who banged his two fists on the table and put everyone at the table on mute.

Eyes gazed at the two.

“And I said, I don’t. Want. To talk about it. Didn’t I?” He said between greeted teeth.

Hunk stared at him in surprise.

Lance got up from his seat and grabbed his bag from the ground. He threw it over his shoulder and was about to leave when,

“What has gotten into you lately?”

That sent an invisible wall in Lance’s path, forcing him to turn around because it seemed like a dead end in the maze called life.

“I said I’m sorry, Hunk,” Lance said tiredly. “What else do you want from me?”

“I want my friend back.” It sounded more like an order. “The happy one, who cracked jokes and flirted with-“

Lance forced a loud, disrespectful laugh. “You say you have eyes,” He reproached them. “yet you all can’t see that the happy, jumpy, crappy Lance,” His voice was filled with more disgust at each adjective. “had died long ago.”

“Hey, there’s no need to-“ Shiro tried to calm the boy down, but Lance rolled his eyes.

“I’m so sick of you not caring.” He growled and turned around, holding to the strap of his bag when Keith asked,

“Not caring about what? Your whinings?”

Lance snapped. He rotated back.

“NOT CARING THAT I EXIST.” He yelled, and the front yard of school went silence. Only the birds still singing in the background.

“Lance, what are you talking about?” Allura frowned sadly and asked with pitying eyes.

The tall teen rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I-im sorry, I can’t do this right now.” He turned around, and this time, he didn’t plan on stopping.

“When will you?!” Hunk called behind him, standing up.

“Probably never!” Lance answered, face still looking forward. He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know what to do now, he just couldn’t be with them.

So he went to the only place where he feels important.

Lance grunted and threw his math book with anger. It hit the wall and fell onto his bed, bouncing a few times because of the mattress.

He turned his look from the bed and faced his desk again. It was filled with lots of stickers and doodles craved into the wood.

And in the corner of his eyes, he spotted a photograph, hidden under two books.

He didn’t even need to take it fully out, he knew which picture was it of.

His friends.

And that was when the adrenaline died in his body, and reality hit him instead.

His throat closed up. That’s not fair, it’s not fair.

Lance quickly pushed the books off the table, along with the photograph. They landed on the floor and made a loud thud.

He doesn’t want any of this, he doesn’t need any of this, everything is falling apart in his life and it’s all his fault and it’s just not fair but he can’t do anything about it he’s out of control-

“Sunshine?” The door behind him creaked open.

Lance flinched and turned around. “M-mom, I can explain-“ He said, panicked. His mother stepped over to him with her hands forward, trying to reach him even before she’s there.

“Did I make too much noise? I’m sorry I’d try to be-“ His voice died out in his mother's hug. She wrapped her hands around her son’s head, since he was sitting.

Lance had nothing to say. His throat tightened and his chest ached. Finally, he leaned onto her, gave up, and cried.

He cried, because everything was hard. He cried, because he was tired. He cried, because he felt so alone. He cried, because he was ashamed with himself.

But he also cried because he didn’t know what was wrong with him.

Yeah, ok, maybe he does. Maybe he should just go to sleep earlier and not wait till half of the house is asleep so he could just sit in the living room and listen to his music.

Most of the times at these situations, a chill maybe sad soft music would replace the upbeat and pop songs he usually listens to.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t heard any of his favorite pop songs for a while.

They kinda lost their spark in his heart. Or maybe his heart was the problem?

Lance couldn’t enjoy meeting up with his friends anymore, after school. The odd feeling of loneliness even when you’re with someone is the worst. The feeling you both just don’t click.

He wanted them to click. They’re his friends.

It’s just, everything became so tiring so quickly. Waking up, getting dressed, greeting people with hello at the start of the day, greeting people with a goodbye at it’s end.

Nothing just made sense. Nothing seemed enjoyable as it used to be.

Lance believes he had changed so much over the years. Maybe so, maybe no. But what he for sure knows, is that it’s not him who controls his body anymore.

Lance couldn’t sleep.

Ever since that one night, he can’t sleep.

He doesn’t want to.

It was a horrible dream. The one to dig into the deepest parts of your brain and pull out your most desires but also most fears.

But he slept so good.

His body was in a different world. Hah, ironic. Well, he felt like he was floating. Like Pidge turned off the gravity of the main ship.

His eyelashes softly rested beneath his closed eyes as the both were peacefully closed. His heart beat at the same speed, not changing his tracks, as his chest was rising up and down with deep and calming breaths.

That’s funny.

Because when he woke up and remembered his dream, the room was much smaller, his breaths were much quicker, his heart beat fast and his mind was racing.

And now, he can’t sleep.

Of course he’s tired, why wouldn’t he be? His eyelids are so heavy and his body is so weak, but every time he tries to sleep, scenes from that nightmare is throwing his eyes open.

Hunk noticed, it began with his skin.

“You look much paler these days,” Hunk pointed out as they both were walking to breakfast which Coran sadly made that day. “Are you ok?”

Lance nodded his head quickly. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Probably from the lack of sun.” And laughed it off. To Lance’s fortunate, Hunk bought it.

Then it continued with late night walks.

“Lance?” A voice echoed through the dark tunnels of the metallic castle. “What are you doing awake?” Coran asked, moving closer as he was holding a white weird alien-y broom.

“Oh, um,” Lance rubbed the back of his neck. “I just couldn’t sleep. It happens.” The sentence quickly turned into murmurs as it came to it’s own end

“Again? Well ok then my boy, just hop on to bed soon!” Coran said cheerfully and continued to sweep away in the hallway. Lance waved and sighed, walking back to his room.

But Lance also had to pay a very stressful price.

“Come on, Lance.” Allura was standing a few feet away from him, looking down at the ground where he was lying. She sighed and put her two fingers on the bridge of her nose. “Try again.”

Lance slowly got up and grabbed his bayard, turning it into his red sword.

“Yeah, Lance!” Pidge yelled from a bit far away. “Come on! I have things to do!!” She shouted angrily.

“No one is leaving until Lance passes this level.” Shiro tiredly said, and turned back to Lance. “You can do it.” He nodded at him.

Lance gulped.

He can’t take this. He hasn’t slept for days. His legs are too jelly to hold the weight of his body and his arms are too numb to stay up and fight a training robot. His mind has gone blank a few hours, or was it days? Ago. It doesn’t really matter.

The dream just keeps hunting him and he’s frozen. He feels it creeps on his back and reaches his shoulder.

It would whisper.

Ugh.

“We will always be there for you!” He cried out in a mocking voice, closing the bag aggressively and throwing it over his shoulder.

Lance ran out of the dark room and through the quiet halls, his running feet leaving an eco behind him like footsteps.

“Liars... they’re all liars!” He reached a big room and leaned on the door behind his back, pulling his brown hair with his hands.

“I’m so pathetic for trusting them.” He whispered, looking numbly at the ground while leftovers tears were leaving the corners of his eyes.