A Furry Love Story - Look In the Mirror
#8 of Scraps
My first meeting with Mr. Li ended at 13:00. I had plenty of time that day to do other things. CNN gave me a call later that day and wanted me to get back to the story, which meant I had to get as many perspectives about furry as possible.
Generations have come and gone and still nobody could define it exaactly. Everyone I talked to had a different opinion. Some said it was a passion with fictional animals. Some embraced it as a lifestyle. Others treated it more like a hobby. However, there was one general concensus that all of them have apparently shared: the fandom changed with the death of Dr. Samuel Conway. Most of them said that the fandom began to decentralize with his passing. They all agreed that it ended an era.
The fandom used to be a means for anyone to get away from reality, observe cute, and have fun. However, as time passed, more wealthy and white-collar people started getting into it. It became more classy and more elite. It wasn't as welcoming of a fandom as it used to be.
Then I decided to get their reaction to me. The newer, lesser-known furries loved me. I was like a dream come true to them. However, the more popular, well-known furries were not as impressed. They worked long and hard to get as many fans as they did. They were concerned that I was going to suck away all the attention they've been getting. They felt threatened by my presence. I could smell it.
I went to the bar. A lot of people talked to me, but had nothing to say. I still felt like I was running in circles. I still didn't know who I was.
I went to the restroom and took a deep look at myself in the mirror screen. The time read as 16:30. I thought of myself. Then I thought of how others saw what I was looking at. I thought of how the humans saw me and how they reacted. I thought of all the ignorant things people said, even in my own backyard. I thought the Nationals and how many people hated me. I wondered if humanity would ever accept my existence. I tried not to hold back the tears. I couldn't. I crouched down on the floor and put my hands over my head.
A woman in a neon-colored hyena suit walked into the restroom and saw me crying.
"What's wrong," she asked.
"They hate me," I sobbed. "The humans, they hate me. Especially those fucking Nationals."
She crouched down and petted me. "There there," he said, "It'll get better. You're just different. People will eventually learn to put their prejudice aside. It happened with blacks. It happened with gays and lesbians."
"You don't understand," I said, crying. "There are congressmen and states that want to kill me and prevent anyone else like me from happening. Why are people so mean? Why are people so ignorant? I'm the only of my kind. I can't expect an entire movement to pop up overnight. No one's going to protest for one person."
"What about Mr. Li," he asked.
"They hate him, too. The Nationals are not going to let him do what he wants to do."
She gave me a hug. "It doesn't matter what the haters say or think or do. Don't let them get to you like they want. Just be yourself. Things will change. People will eventually understand, but what matters most is if you like what's in the mirror. You'll be much happier if you did."
Others went into the restroom, petted me, offered hugs and helped me get up.
They say the fandom has changed in many ways. However, despite all that's changed, the compassion and caring has never faded. I wish I could see this more in a world where many wonder if it still exists.