I'm Loser Novels & Stories

It was the kind people wore when they'd already decided your fate. “You think this is a joke?” "No. I think you're a joke." He was now standing a foot away from me. I didn't bother about the nickname, all I wanted to do was scratch off that smile off his face. Of course I'm a joke because I'm Karel. The guy who gets beaten for money. The guy who never got good grades and the guy who… whatever. “What's the price?" I clenched every part of me and looked away. “What you did that night.” His smirk was slow.

"Not today. Not like this." I closed my eyes. *Damn him.*

PLease look forward to the sequel of "Who's the Loser now?" With Gratitude and Regards, JDHWS

The word echoed in my head, louder than the sound of the shattered glass. This couldn’t be happening.

It already cheered me up to be around them when my parents would leave unexpectedly for their impulsive trips. “No, Harold. I’ll just go home,” I said, avoiding his eyes. He was only showing concern, but right now, I needed to be alone. For days, I don’t leave the house. I don’t answer any calls or messages. I wallow in my self-pity, spending hours rewatching the entire Modern Family series from the beginning. It’s a distraction, but it only deepens my sense of sadness because it only shows me what it means to have a family and not be alone. I try to eat, but even that feels like a chore. Thankfully, the chef that comes with the penthouse takes care of meals—one of the perks of being a Caste

Damien's POV Never in my wildest dream have I ever imagined life to be this sorrowful for me and depressing. I feel like a real loser for once in a while. I have always rejoiced in the delight of being a winner in virtually everything I do, but I take rejection and failure the hard way. I beat myself up for whatever failure I get.

And I was pathetic enough to blurt them all out to her just then in desperation. Wow, I am a complete and utter loser! A total sap! No surprise she turned me down. Probably thought she was giving herself a lucky escape, and who can fucking blame her? I am a waste of space. A loser. Pathetic. But I so desperately wanted to find a way to make things work with her I was even willing to up and leave everything I know and love. Even that wasn’t enough.

At that instant, the corner of her lips lifted to form a smirk, and running her hand through her hair, she stated in a complacent manner: “Loser, every single one of you! Hahaha! Goddamn, weaklings! And on top of that, all of you’re sore losers who looks fucking ugly. Might I mention that your breath stinks as well. This is so nauseating. Damn! This place is disgusting, just like all of you. Bunch of lowlifes. Coming here to lick each others wound. Too pathetic I swear. You shouldn’t even be coming to gambling since all you do is lose. Is it fun to earn consecutive loses? How does it feel like? Since I never got to experience it, I am curious. What? What? What are you glaring at? Someone lik

Davis Garraway had always been a painful thorn in my flesh since the day we moved to California. The day we arrived in the neighborhood, while other kids tried to make me feel welcomed, Davis spilled hot coco on me on purpose and he laughed while I felt embarrassed. In school, we went toe to toe in each class, he would always ensure he defeated me and when he did, he would send kindergartens to my window and they would sing me the loser song. “You are a loser, a big fat loser, a loser, a loser, a loser, a loser, L O S E R “