Everybody's Fool

(NOTE: Another title taken from an Evanesence song. Just a little thing I decided to write because I'm depressed and feeling like a fool. Written as if the whole thing is composed of thoughts taken from the mind of Remy LeBeau. Possibly one of the strangest things I've ever written. Blame it on the mood, not the muse. Gambit doesn't belong to me, I'm not making any money. Flames are used for roasting marshmallows and hot dogs. Enjoy.)

I'd love to know jus' what dey all take me for, anyway.

Seriously, do I have de word "fool" tattooed on my forehead or somethin'? B'cause dat's honestly what it feels like sometimes. Only I can' see it, b'cause it's written in an' ink dat's only visible to de people lookin' at me. Dat mus' be it. On de one hand, I kinda get a kick outta it. On de other, it drives me up de wall.

If it isn't de word "fool", it's de world "gullible" or de phrase "will do anythin' for acceptance an' approval". Maybe dat's it. Who knows. All I know is, I can' do a single t'ing for myself or try to have one moment of contentment an' happiness wit'out it bein' either taken de wrong way or shot to hell by someone takin' me for a gullible fool 'gain. I jus' wish dey'd all knock it de hell off an' leave me be for once. Jus' once.

So many diff'rent people wit' so many diff'rent ways of makin' me feel like an idiot.

Bella Donna. She conned her own guild into t'inkin' dey had a contract on my life when dey really didn'. Her reason? She wanted to be close to me 'gain. B'cause she still loved me. T'rew me for a loop when she dropped dat bomb on me while we were trapped in dat buildin'. An' what was she expectin', anyway? Dat I still loved her dat way after all dis time? Sure I love her, I will always love her, but it ain' like dat anymore. We ain' teenagers anymore. An' yet she goes an' makes dat announcement like it'll turn back time or somethin'.

Theoren an' Gris-Gris. Dey bot' hate me wit' every fibre of deir bein's, an' never hesitate to tell me dat either. Hey I know not everyone can like me. I don' have dat kinda luck. I accept de fact dat dey hate me. I can' do much else. I respect dem bot', dey don' respect me much an' t'ings generally work. But den dey go an' destroy information crucial to de future of de Guild jus' b'cause my father told dem to, an' when I figure it out an' call dem on it, dey say it all so damned matter-of-factly, like I'm a child needin' to be taught a lesson!

Jus' who is de patriarch of dis Guild, mes amis...me or you?

An' speakin' of my father...jus' where does he get off, forcin' de Guild leadership on me an' den sabotagin' dat leadership in de form of Theoren an' Gris-Gris? He knew from de beginnin' dat I didn' wan' be patriarch, didn' even really wan' be in de Guild anymore, but yet he handed it to me on a fake silver platter an' wished me luck. Sure, Papa. Luck. Right. After everythin' you did for me, an' everythin' you did to me, you had to go an' give me de one t'ing I didn' want. It figures. Henri's gone so Remy has to do it, an' Remy will do it because there's no one else, an' even if he doesn' want to, he'll still do it in de hopes dat dey'll finally accept him if he's leadin' dem.

Rogue. Lord where do I even start wit' Rogue. She apologized for abandonin' me in Antarctica, yes. Very big of her. But I remember one time, a long time ago, when Emil, Etienne an' I got into a lot of trouble wit' our fathers an' even t'ough we all said we were sorry, Tante Mattie explained dat "sometimes sorry isn' good enough". Dis is one of dose times. Jus' b'cause Rogue is sorry...an' jus' b'cause I used to love her...don' necessarily mean I'll ever really forgive her. I don' like bein' stabbed in de back anymore'n anybody else, an' she can apologize until she's blue in de face, but I will not accept it until I'm damned well good an' ready to.

De one I really get a kick out of is New Sun. What a character he is. In a sense, I got to see for m'self what I'm like, but on de other hand...I am nothin' like him an' never could be. I still haven' quite figured out his logic yet, nor do I t'ink I ever will, but in all honesty, it seems pretty screwed to me. Did he honestly t'ink dat if he played me like a violin enough an' pushed de right buttons enough, dat I'd be willin' to lay down an' die jus' so he could stop whatever happened in however many other realities from happenin' here on Earth? Did he not realize dat if pushed hard enough I get mad an' push back, harder? I'm only human, I can only take so much b'fore I snap.

I am not a fool. I have a brain in my head an' it works jus' fine, t'anks. So why is it dat so often I feel like dese people, an' others, sometimes, are playin' me for a fool? What kind of shock are dey gon' get when dey find out jus' how unlike a fool I really am? New Sun already got dat shock...an' he's dead. De others...dey prob'ly know on some level, but not entirely.

I t'ink I have to start sayin' no. Start puttin' my foot down an' not agreein' to do every single t'ing asked of me by everyone. Dat's part of my problem, part of de reason why I get used so much. I always agree to everythin'. Doesn' get me anythin' but a lack of respect an' an abundance of headaches. It's time to start lookin' out for myself an' not acceptin' everythin' as if I don' have a choice. I do have a choice.

It's time to stop bein' everybody's fool an' start bein' me.