The Color Of You

Chapter 1 (Prologue)

This story is a bit of a mixed bag – it's both challenging and easy to write.

The difficulty comes from the fact that it draws inspiration from real-life stories, some of which reflect my own experiences or those of friends who have faced the tumultuous journey towards self-acceptance. Many of us didn't have the best coming of age experience. We struggled with fear, depression, and anxiety as we confronted our true selves and our feelings, deep down, for the people we loved.

While this story might not be everyone's cup of tea, my intention with this story was to create a comforting fic for myself at first. But then I thought there might be people out there who can find comfort in it as well. While it will contain many difficult subjects and events, it will also contain happiness, comfort, and beauty. So I do hope some of you might find enjoyment in this story.

This first chapter is a prologue, where we get to see how it all began. In chapter 2, the story in real time starts.

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The day Yelena Romanoff entered your life started like any other, but it would forever change you. It began with your mother tearing off the covers, her voice sharp as she ordered you to get moving. Nothing unusual there. You rushed through your morning routine, but despite your best efforts, you couldn't avoid her impatience. Her foot tapped, a clear warning that you were already on thin ice. With a frustrated sigh, she pushed you out the door as you skidded across the floor, shoulders slumping under the weight of her discontent.

Your stomach knotted tighter as the familiar yellow school bus pulled up, a cacophony of laughter and chatter greeting you. You took your usual place at the front, clutching your bag close to your chest. The front seats were your sanctuary, close to the driver where the others wouldn't dare to bother you. Here, you could blend into the background, at least for a little while. But as soon as you got off the bus, there was nowhere to hide from the bullying. Whether it was your glasses, your clothes, or just your existence, you were a constant target. You couldn't remember when it started or what you did to deserve it, but you learned early on that telling the teachers only made things worse.

Your only real refuge was in your schoolwork because, while you didn't excel socially with your peers, you loved learning new things. The praise from teachers felt like a warm embrace, each smile and compliment a soothing balm. You were often teased for being a know-it-all, but you realized that subjects like mathematics, science, and physics came naturally to you. The logic behind these subjects made sense in a way that human interactions did not. Numbers and experiments became your escape, with each solved problem feeling like a small victory.

So, when Hannah dropped an invitation card onto your desk for her birthday party, your breath caught in your throat. You stared at the card, fingers tracing the beautiful letters of your name.

Hannah was one of your worst tormentors, yet the thought of being accepted, even by her, sent your heart racing. It didn't matter that she was the reason your glasses were held together with tape or that you had scabs on your knees from her tripping you. All that mattered was that she invited you to her party.

You whispered your acceptance, fearing she might snatch the card away and declare it a cruel joke. But her smile stayed wide as she walked back to her friends, her blond curls bouncing with each step.

After school, you burst through your apartment door, excitement bubbling over as you searched for something to wear to the party. But as you rifled through your closet, your excitement waned. The familiar knot in your stomach tightened as you realized you had nothing suitable to wear. Your clothes were outdated and worn, hand-me-downs from cousins who'd long outgrown them. You didn't blame your mother; new clothes were a luxury you couldn't afford.