This Is It?

Chapter 1: Discrimination

Surprising, lonely, alone. That's what happens every day in my activities. Dead, life has no passion. It is ironic that this body.

Yesterday, from evening to night I read hundreds of articles on recipes to be handsome. All of this leads to tips. He said, if you want to look handsome diligent hair comb after bathing, wear neat clothes, grow confidence, and face cream given day and night regularly every day.

I've done all these tips. I've tried using face lightening cream. But what happened was that I was laughed at by a school. Wh why? It was the first time I used cream, and it coincided on Monday. Activities before entering class on that day are usually flag ceremonies.

I was standing in the back row. The sky that morning was already shining. I was sweating so hard that the cream on my face unwittingly leaked. One person saw me, then he whispered to the other. The news spread from mouth to mouth. Then, laughter flared when the headmaster as the supervisor of the ceremony gave a speech (amanat).

The ceremony stopped for a moment. All eyes were looking at me. I still remember the moment when it became a mockery. The buzzing sounds are so painful to the ears. He said, my face is like a vampire in Chinese films that are treated with low budget.

The teachers laughed at me too. I was the center of attention. More precisely, the center of insults.

I quickly got out of line to the toilet. Embarrassed? Yes, of course. Or even if there's the highest term above shame, that's how I feel. I'm like a clown lost in a crowd.

I was about half an hour in the toilet. Waving in front of the mirror looking at the makeup, and neutralizing the situation until I was washed away laughing at my messy face. The cream I use is like flooded asphalt, cracked and damaged.

I bought the bleach on the Facebook forum. According to the seller, the product is very powerful and there are already thousands of testimonials that are satisfied with the results. Its use should be regular every morning before activity, and the night before bedtime.

In order for the results obtained quickly and optimally, I use three times the polish (coating) or equivalent to one-fifth of the total content of the cream in a container of 30 grams. However, since the incident on Monday, I never again wear the face cream or similar. Obviously, there is a sense of trauma that has degraded self-confidence. Besides, just squandering my allowance.

I no longer want to look handsome. I want to be real handsome. But, how is it? Plastic surgery? Ah, it was expensive and the process was painful. Is there a practical way without spending a lot of money?!

Years of strengthening at all costs to look good looking is exhausting the mind and torturing the mind. Mental as if slammed in all directions to find the right solution to overcome my obsession.

I know there is a term that says “Learning capital alone is not a guarantee of a successful life and happy”. However, for those who have a handsome face means they already have one capital, right? So, what about me? Modalku does not exist, starting from zero or even minus.

However, handsome people more easily get the attention that can bring the coffers of property. Just look at social media! Just simply upload a short video of your own smile, noisily likes and comments instantly meet. The offer to be a model followed. Viral in a matter of seconds.

Oh Ardi, better the contents of the stomach first than to gather bitter memories in the past. An empty stomach will more quickly destroy sanity.

With a relaxed pace I headed towards the cafeteria. Do you understand where I sit? In a place that was unattainable by anyone, except the merchant himself.

“Pak, the meat is one serving yes eaten here,” said I ordered with courtesy.

“Yes, just sit in the usual place!” The merchant replied with a stern retort. Fortunately, I was already worried about the war.

Discrimination is felt by me. The customer again when ordering responded with a smile, while I was ostracized. However, only the merchants on campus would talk to me. Indeed, it was because I was in the position of a buyer. If as friends, it feels like they are also lazy to make small talk with me.

In the early days of snacks in the campus cafeteria, I had several times or even often asked for money in advance when ordering food. I saw others paying after they finished eating the food. When I asked the reason, the traffickers said they were afraid that I would run away.

Naas, a mediocre look plus a shabby appearance are often suspected of having criminal behavior. Popular sentence that says “Don’t jugde a book by its cover” as if just a mere term. In my real world – or I call in life – it is not at all the slightest I feel applies.

I also had several times when entering the minimarket directly supervised by the cashier and officers on guard. Their eyes shone on me so sharply. They seem suspicious if I come to shoplifter. Severe, right?

“This meatball. Next time, if in the canteen crowded mending the meatballs wrapped aja,” said the Mr. seller meatballs with a cynical face.

I've been buying meatballs on him. But not once do I feel like I'm being treated as a customer. Now blame me instead. I deliberately ate on the spot, because 20 minutes into the afternoon class. Rather than eating at the boarding house, I think it's more efficient to eat directly.

This is how it is if it has an appearance that people say damages the eyes. Eating is like begging. While other students, seemed engrossed in wara-wiri and chatted without the intervention of the satirical gaze of traders.

Stop, Ardi! Free to complain too. Just spend a bowl of this meatball if you need the bowl all chewed.

As soon as the first mouthful was about to enter the mouth, the sound of clustered footsteps could be heard approaching.

“Uuweeeek!!! Gas, we eat somewhere else! In front of the campus, or where. Suddenly I have no taste in eating here.” Revan saw me cruel.

“Why the hell, Van?” ask Bagas while turning the view.

“Lu see for yourself to the back of you, Gas!”

Bagas glanced at me. “Yeah, I guess there's something. Just the Ardi again eating meatballs too. Why the hell? There's no time, Van. I've really laper and want to eat meatballs.”

“Tom, Yo, Dy, we'll find somewhere else! Ruined my appetite here!”

“Gue agrees with Revan. Mending us to the front cafe or where it is,” timpal Leo.

“Udahlah, here aja!” Bagas insisted on not going anywhere else.

“Gue also prefers to eat here alone with Bagas,” said Andy.

Among the five of them is indeed only Andy who looks more relaxed and calm. However, it felt like I was eager to throw the bowl at them while laughing loudly. Want to eat just using a voting event all like the election of the class president.

“No fun you, Dy,” said Bagas disappointed.

“Lu how, Tom?” ask Bagas.

“Gue follow.”

“Who's next, Tommy?” Leo ensured.

Then, the meatballs merchant interceded. “Udah-alah, These Young Gentlemen if you want to eat meatballs Mamang please just wait in the place over there!”

“But Mang, still the Kunyuk looks from where we will sit,” complained Revan was aiming at me.

Bagas tries to give understanding back to Revan. “Van, it's not good to say that. Not good to hear either.”

Meatball dealers approached me. He took my meatball bowl. I was so surprised too. I took down the spoons and forks, busy listening to the trivial feuds of the Elites.

“Lu find another place again!” tell it.

A portion of meatballs that I had not even had time to taste were taken by force, then discarded by the Merchant. He kicked me out in a pretty sadistic way.

I quickly reached for 15 thousand dollars from my pocket which I prepared from the beginning. I offered it to the meatball trader. I want to return his attitude with sarcasm. I'm also a buyer. I can afford to pay.

“Lu bring money! I'd rather lose 15 haul of money from you, than lose my premium customers,” reject it in a rough tone.

The buyer is king. To me it's a myth. Never mind being considered a king, considered a human only I rarely feel.

“Lu where are you going, Di? How not to eat it?” ask Bagas as I rush away.

I pretended not to hear that question. I know Bagas is just a pleasantries. He asked not because he cared, but was building an image and reputation.

Bagaskara Permana, she's my classmate from High School. He's the perfect figure. Born to a wealthy family, has a high posture, stunning face, smart in academics, and a sportsman. He has always been an idol wherever he is.

Suddenly he asked me to talk. Where were you for three years? Greeting only never. You hypocrite!

However, he still had a full life. The life I always imagined.