>Anon, I know it's unusual for us to talk. You, a beta.

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>Anon, I know it's unusual for us to talk. You, a beta. Me, a Chad. But there's something I want to get off my chest. I never did chose the Chad-life, the Chad-life chose me. It was cruel enough to curse me with good genes, devilishly handsome looks, and overall tip-top physique. But it's not what I really want. I, like you, are just pawns that nature assigned us to play. It doesn't make sense, but 'tis what 'tis.
>What I really want to do is skip merrily through fields of daisies. Grow gardens of pomegranate. Dance the Black Swan in front of a lovingly loyal audience. And lounge blissfully for hours on end on a pile of hay within the arms of Tyrone, the only heart I truly desire. None of this shoving you into the locker to keep up appearances. None of those physical assaults against other betas, and the police doing nothing just because. And none of banging Stacy's I do not care about, but who keep throwing themselves at me no matter how clear I make my disgust (really the more you show your hatred the more they want you -- they're weird). No, Anon. It's not the life I truly want, but have to live, and have to keep secret. So secret that, I admit, these past four years I've been breaking into the boy's locker room and sniffing all the other Chad's underwears. Or that I occasionally fondle my dad in his sleep. No one suspects a thing. But I digress, Anon. It's just what life as chosen for me without my input. It's not fair, 'tis what 'tis.
>You won't tell anyone, will you?