My name is Jay and I am not real

I was bored and angsty so why not

My name is Jay, but I am not real. I am a depiction. An experiment. A figment of the imagination. But nothing more. A kid tried to bring me to life a few times. A beanie, couple layers of clothes, maybe even some makeup. He looked at himself in the mirror.
“My name is Jay,” he said, but he knew it was not real. He was the perfect daughter, The smartest girl. He once even won an award for the prettiest dress. But he hated everything people tried to associate with him. Once he was given the nickname “Jay” for a project that would never come to be. That’s when I was born, if something fake can even be born.
My name is Jay, but I am not real. I am an idea, a character, a concept. An alter identity for the Internet nicknames, but nothing more. Until he looked in the mirror differently one night. This feeling was normal. The face was just off but what was it? He was not conventionally ugly, and it was fairly acne free. Was it the brighter eyes? The slack jawline? Until he saw it finally. It was a mask, meant to cover me up. It hit him exactly what he was. He looked down and saw the other deformities that were not me. He was not the role he played every day.
My name is Jay, and I am real. I am an identity, a person. I was not born, but discovered. I was always this way, but nobody knew until he brought me to the light. He was always me, he just had to hide. But that won’t be the case soon. I deserve to be seen, and respected. For I may be different, but I deserve just as much as anyone else.
My name is Jay, and I am real.