Alright! So before I start this, I know I said there'd be a part three to "Favorite Kid" but I just don't know what to write for it. so sorry guys!

And just a quick heads up, all poetry/songs in this chapter are NOT mine. If i can find out the original artists then I will list them before each are used.

And just PRETEND that they actually wrote it but they didn't but you know what I mean-

-

Peter, MJ, and Shuri all sat backstage at the New York Poetry Slam Competition, excites get nervous. They were competing against hundreds of talented teenagers, and were hoping to win. MJ and Shuri were a group, and Peter was by himself.

"And now, Shuri and Michelle!" the announcer said, earning cheers. Shuri and MJ stood and walked on stage, getting loud claps as they stopped in front of the microphone. Looking at each other, they smiled before starting.

"Perfect" by- Maia Mayor

"Is there something wrong with you? A loose screw or two that ruined your ability to function- why are you so tired?" MJ began, looking out towards the audience gathered. "You're life is uninspired and small. All you do is sprawl on the couch with outstretched limbs like a sloth in slow motion."

Now it was Shuri's turn.

"Where is you're devotion to succeed? Did it drift out your window with the smoke from you're weed, do I have to force feed you discipline 'till you finally concede- I cook, and I clean and I don't stop 'til the soles on my feet bleed."

MJ and Shuri spoke together.

"But I'm fine. I'm perfect. Be perfect. Be perfect like me."

Shuri fell out but MJ kept going.

"Stop wearing those god awful ripped pants and that lipstick like a whore with double-d implants. You only get one chance.  Stop acting like a cat with nine lives left. Stop committing yourself to songs and stories and spoken slam bullshit."

Now it was Shuri's turn once more.

"In a world where degrees and PhD's impede the need for poetry. And stop chewing on your nails.
No wonder you've never attracted any males. Why do you do that? Do you like the taste? Are they sweet?  You can't eat sweets. You're ruining your teeth like you're ruining your life."

MJ joined

"My teeth are perfect. Clean and pristine. They gleam like the golden halo above my perfectly conditioned head. I don't need sugar, Maia. I am above sugar."

MJ fell out.

"Why are you down here? Why are you down here when you need to be up here? Up here with the ones who have a promising career, who listen when information goes in one ear and doesn't come out the other."

Then MJ went.

"You'll never be up here. You act as if the act of listening is a crime or you would have heard me the six hundred and sixty-sixth time I told you to STOP CHEWING ON YOUR NAILS."

Shuri joined back in.

"Stop chewing on your nails like a goddamn piece of trash.  You can't be trash. You have to be perfect.
Be perfect like me."

Shuri fell out.

"I get up at 5 in the morning every day. I start my day the same way worried that I'll collapse as my bones start to decay from cleaning up your scraps.
Why is your room such a mess?"

MJ let Shuri take over.

"The clothes go in the hamper. Not displayed on your bed like your lack of morals. Not littered on the floor collecting more dust than my withered expectations. You disregard my rules with stubborn contempt in a substandard attempt at teenage rebellion."

The girls spoke in unison.

"But you can't be a rebel. You're not interesting enough. You need to obey and say 'yes' and 'okay'
You need to do it with a smile on your less than average face. You need to try harder. Make it wider. Why don't you know how to smile?"

MJ fell out.

"You disappoint me. You never appreciate what I do for you. You never try to be a winner. And you never eat your dinner. You never eat the dinner I consistently provide for you as I constantly remind you of the life I set aside for you."

Shuri began again.

"That meal doesn't pay for itself. I don't care if it's ideal, stop telling me how you feel. You need to eat it. Eat it all. Eat it at a reasonable time with a glass of milk."

They spoke together once more.

"You need milk. You need calcium like you need a catalyst for growth. You'll never grow to be tall. Be tall like me. I drink my milk. Drink your fucking milk. Be tall. Be perfect. Be perfect like me."

Shuri fell out.

You need to pay more attention. Stop daydreaming. Stop staring at the ceiling as if your one redeeming quality lies hidden in the plaster. You need to organize your life."

Now it was MJ.

"Your life is a disaster. Just like your room. Just like your teeth. Just like your future, Which will soon come to an end if you don't put down that pen.
You need to stop writing."

For the last few lines, MJ and Shuri looked at each other as they talked.

"Your life is not a book. Don't give me that look. I'm just trying to help you. I'm just trying to love you.
I'm just trying to love you. You have to let me love you so that you can be perfect. Be perfect like me."

The crowd cheered and clapped as MJ and Shuri walked off the stage.

"And next we have Peter!"

I don't know the name of artist so ya

Peter walked out onto the stage, sitting down at the piano that was in front of a microphone. After all, he had chosen to sing his poem instead, since he found it to have a catchy tune. He readied his hands on the pristine white keys and began playing softly, a sweet melody filling the room.

"At the age of seven, a girl went to heaven. 'Cause she got shot when a drive by happened."

"At the age of eight, a girl got raped. But she act like everything's okay."

"At the age of nine, a boy cut lines. On both of his arms 'cause he wanted to die."

"This is no lie, this is real life. We need our world to change."

"'Cause kids are dying, everyday. And mothers are crying, everyday. We need our world to change."

"...our world to change."

Peter sat back as the crowd erupted into applause, a wide grin on his face. He stood and retired himself backstage where he got bombarded in a massive hug from MJ and Shuri who were each complementing him over and over.

It was then the time came that the winner was between Peter and another boy by the name Leo. The audience had written their winner on a piece of paper and placed them in a box, which were then counted to determine the winner.

"And the winner of this competition is..." the announcer began. "Peter!"

Peter covered his mouth in a joy, light brightening in his brown doe eyes. He gave Leo a massive hug before the other teen exited the stage. "So Peter, how did you come up with such a meaningful and heart touching song?"

Peter looked out at the crowd. "Well, I wrote it from my own experiences. When I was younger my best friend- her name was Ellie- was shot in the local park during a drive by. When I was eight years old I was raped by my babysitter and when I was nine, all the way 'til I was fifteen, I cut every single damn day of the week, having fallen deep into the pit of depression."

"That's very touching," the announcer said. Peter shrugged.

"Dark humor is good sometimes, you know?" he chuckled lightly. The announcer nodded.

"Well lets give it up for Peter one last time!"