In the close-to-ten minutes that had passed since Colin had a brief run-in with Hunter, the dark-haired boy hadn’t done shit.

Literally.

He stayed leaning against the same locker, his foot against the wall, popping his knee out, and casually sipping on his vodka-disguised-as-water — which was nearly out. He looked like every stereotypical bad boy from any high school movie ever. Except Colin wasn’t a total chump like they were.

He occasionally went through his phone, checking what was happening on his social. Twitter was a meme paradise and Instagram was where it was at. Post after post, he smirked in appreciation of all the thicc babes he followed. Every single one of them got a like and a comment. He considered DMing them, but he wasn’t one of those desperate losers whose entire self-esteem was pending on validation from whatever girl they were simping over.

Like, come on now! Colin isn’t Spike.

But you know who he was like? Colin Gallagher, that’s who! And what Colin Gallagher often did at this time — at least when school was in session — was grab his quote-unquote “girlfriend” by the ass and maybe sneak off to get a quickie before that annoying bell rang.

As he peered his eyes away and scanned the hallway, centering at the entrance, he frowned somewhat because there was a lack of a certain goth bitch that he loved to tease. Usually, he expected some sort of contact from her right about now: a punch in the gut, a text message not appropriate for kids — something to let him know that she was alive.

But there was nothing.

“What gives, Steph? How long do you expect me to wait—”

The rushing sound of the pearly gates opening and the Mistress of the Night herself come pacing quickly through it, pushing basically anyone who was in her way in a typical manner he expected from her.

When their eyes locked and she was close enough, Colin yanked her hand and pulled her close to him. His hands went first for her to her waist, sliding down not-so-slowly until there was something for him to squeeze. “Bout time you got here,” he spoke quietly into her ear. “Was almost beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” He then gave her a short kiss and smiled.

In regular circumstances, Stephanie would welcome Colin’s advances with open arms. She had learned that there was no better way to start out her day than with a quickie from someone who knew exactly how to make her feel alright. But with that heartbreaking encounter with Tate so fresh in her mind, the last thing she wanted to do was have to put up a front with someone who knew her as well as Colin did.

“Ew. It’s not even eight o’clock in the fucking morning and you already smell like a dive bar…” she complained to Colin, her face scrunched up in disgust at the unpleasant smell of cheap liquor emanating from her ‘boyfriend’. Frowning, she dug into her bag and pulled out a small baby blue container, popped two pieces of gum out, and offered them to the young man. “Be a sweetie and do all of us a favor by taking these. Nobody wants to get alcohol poisoning from your breath alone.”

As soon as she handed it to him, Colin chucked it into the air to the left, behind her, and it hit some nerd with the worst pair of thick-rimmed glasses he’d ever seen. The kid looked at him and all it took was one nasty look from Colin for him to take the container and run in the opposite direction.

“There. It’s taken care of,” he said slyly, sporting a grin equal to his tone.

Stephanie could only roll her eyes, her face scrunching up even harder. “You are so fucking disgusting…" she told him, playfully placing her hand over his mouth and grabbing him by the face with her fingers while giving him a little smirk.

Colin didn’t say anything, which was certainly out of character for him. Wanna know what wasn’t? Making out with her hand, tongue and all and it slobbered all over her hand and he made suggestive sounds to add to the experience.

A loud squeal of disgust echoed across the hall, attracting the attention of nearby schoolmates as the appalled Spice released her grip on Colin's face as if it had electrocuted her. "What the fuck was that for, Colin!?" Stephanie shrieked, wiping off her slobbered hand against his shoulder with a hard slap. "That was so fucking nasty!"

He observed her face-- the momentary snarl that was frozen and how her eyes were narrowed in the same way when he knew her disgust was genuine. And for some reason, Colin found it thoroughly amusing. So he laughed and then eventually burst out with a cackle deep from the gut. “Oh come on, what did you expect? You covered my mouth. It’s almost as if you were asking me to make out with it.” He shot her a wink, intentionally eying her hand with the same gaze he often gave her when he was in the mood.

“It’s way too early to be playing games with me, Colin! And believe me: I am not in the mood for your bullshit today!” she snapped, shoving the dark-haired boy away while giving him one of her deadliest glares.

Colin’s back hit the locker and a ringing, metal sound went off as he met her death glare. “Jesus…” Came a drawn out response from Colin as Steph snapped at him with more ferocity than she had at her default setting.

She was always nasty and harsh with him, but in a way that made her unconventionally adorable. But this? Something was definitely up her ass. “What’s up with you today?” He asked her directly.

“You’re not usually this bitchy so early in the morning. You usually wait until at least I’ve done something you consider wrong.” He knew he was going to catch some flack for that last comment, but he only spoke the truth.

“Whatever. It’s none of your business,” she snapped again, vigorously shaking her head.

There was no way in hell Stephanie would be telling Colin about what had happened that morning. Sure: they weren’t what you would call a conventional couple-- not by a long shot. Flings coming in and out of their lives were as common as the times they broke up and got back together. But that didn’t mean Spice purposely wanted to start shit; especially so soon after their last fight. The last thing she needed was for the visibly tipsy Colin to go berserk about the presence of yet another guy in her life.

Colin stared at Stephanie, becoming more visibly annoyed the longer she stayed silent. On some level, he really wanted to pick a fight with her because, well, she was kind of pissing him off. And it wouldn’t be hard. He could mention Hunter and how there was some hot purple-haired broad that nearly ran over Rico. He could embellish the truth slightly and say they fucked. And to back it up, he could actually go find this chick and give her the gift of Colin Gallagher. But at the same time, that was too much of a hassle and he’d rather do it in reverse.

So with the minimal requirement of strength to take the high road, he sighed. “Whatever you say.” He gave her a shrug, popping another chug of his vodka in his mouth. “But where were you though? Sure, you’re the last person who would care about attendance, but ya kept me waiting longer than you usually do.”

“I went to pick up my car at the shop,” the girl said simply with a small shrug. She knew this white lie was bound to upset Colin a little bit, but it was certainly better than telling him the story of her morning.

“The shop, eh?” He absentmindedly acknowledged, taking another casual sip. About halfway through it, Colin had the delayed realization and immediately spat the entirety of the sip of vodka he’d taken all over Stephanie’s face. “You were late because you were off blowing some grandpa? What kind of bullshit is that!?” Jealousy came fast to the surface and the slippery descent down to the slope began. “Well!?”



“I wasn’t ‘blowing off some grandpa’, Colin Gallagher!” Spice shouted, wiping off the vodka and spit from her face. She should’ve known that mentioning the place of employment of one of her flings was bound to blow up in her face (literally). But how else would she have explained the magical return of the to her possession? “I was literally just picking up my damn car from the damn shop! And even if I was blowing Ricky-- which I wasn’t-- it’s still none of your fucking business!”

He wasn’t amused nor convinced. “I don’t believe you. For all I know, you could just be saying this to cover up the fact that you were doing your best Riley Reid impersonation.” Colin’s tone and face was flatter than the asses of most of the girls at Rosefell. “So just admit it: you were showing the grandpa a good time.”

The seething Spice didn’t bother with a verbal response. Instead, she wrapped her hand around Colin’s slim arm like a vice grip and dragged him out of the school building and towards the parking lot, where the glistening paint coat of the purple vehicle could be seen in the distance. With a face as red as the nail imprints her grip had left on the young man’s pale skin, she turned to confront Colin.

“You believe me now, you paranoid piece of shit?” she snarled, looking like a tiger seconds away from tearing its prey apart.

She probably thought him seeing the car would make things better. She probably also thought this would shut him up. And she would be right, but not for the reasons Stephanie was thinking.

Seeing the car did confirm one thing for Colin, but confirm to him that she was just at the shop? No, that wasn’t quite it. From what he could tell, it was perfectly adequate. It was like no repairs had been done on it. He knew Ricky’s work and he was good, that much Colin could admit, but this was too good.

As he examined the scratchless hood, Colin laughed. “Yeah I believe you, Stephanie…” He said in a low tone, giving her a smile. “I believe you’re a lying tramp. There is no way that fossil did this good on your piece of crap ride. I believe that you’re sticking to your guns to hide the fact that you ditch me -- me -- for someone old enough to qualify for Social Security.” He pulled his hand away and somewhat gently shoved her away from him.

As soon as Stephanie felt Colin’s hands pushing her away, her judgment disappeared. Just like when she’d seen Tate’s car slowly drive away without a care in the world, blood was rushing to her blacked-out brain, and the world was now under a crimson lens. In one blink of an eye, Spice’s right hand was balled up into a tight fist. In another, the solid fist was colliding hard with Colin’s nose. Whatever pain came shooting through the girl’s arm after the move was being numbed by adrenaline, and she did nothing but coldly stare at the blood starting to pour down her now ex-boyfriend’s nostrils.

When her fist connected and the blood began pouring out, Colin staggered back against the hood of her car. The back of his shins collided with her shitty bumper and he was positioned like an obtuse triangle as most of his weight pressed on the hood.

He looked up at the morning sky, wincing every other five seconds, cursing at Spice any chance he got. Some words were lost due to him trying to gather his wits, but every word he could muster was directed at her.

As he grabbed his nose, trying not to further the damage that fist of hers did to it, Colin managed to find enough momentum to swing himself off her stupid car. “You crazy bitch! Fucking psycho! You broke my fucking nose!” His profanity came out in a rapid-fire succession of one another, but it also was in a nasally tone.

“Maybe now you’ll think twice about putting those disgusting junkie hands on me again,” she cruelly spat, wasting no time in shoving him hard against the car again, turning on her heel and storming off, the long locks of raven hair flying behind her.

“Yeah, well at least I’m not a grandpa fucker!” Colin made sure she heard him before she was out of range.

And as he saw her push open the doors of the main Rosefell building and completely disappeared from his sight, Colin was left with the aftermath of his own making. He knew what everyone around was probably thinking and he didn’t care. Their opinions and the stares that served as its companion didn’t matter to him. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Stephanie Cross get to him. For all he cared, she could fuck whoever she wanted.

He didn’t give a shit. Not one.

“Fuck. Now I gotta see the nurse and get this looked at.” In a fit of anger, Colin slammed the back of his foot against Stephanie’s front bumper with enough force to dent the front bumper. “Fuck that hurt!” He cursed, limping on one leg as he left her piece a shit car with a reminder of what happened today.

In the back of his mind, as he limped up the stairs, cursing with every painful step, and walked through the front doors, he remembered he also had to serve as someone’s tour guide too. “Just the chocolate shit kiss on what is sure to be a wonderfully-shittastic day.”

If she had been the one who had almost gotten run over by an incoming car, Giselle would’ve been nothing short of terrified and upset at the person behind the wheel, and at any other individuals inside the vehicle at the time of the close call. Her ability to use her words and speak in full sentences would’ve disappeared, replaced by the frantic pounding of her heart. What Gigi hadn’t expected was that the young man her aunt had almost injured came at her with the pleasantries of a gentleman: admitting fault to something he wasn’t responsible for, introducing himself and the friend that had come to his aid, and closing it all off with one of the smoothest pickup lines she had ever heard.



Giselle’s lightly freckled cheeks flushed crimson, and she let out a nervous little giggle. Although she wasn’t a stranger to compliments, receiving them always made her feel awkward. “Well I’m glad my auntie’s clumsiness didn’t cause you any harm other than a good scare!” she told him with a bright, apologetic smile. “I really am sorry for what happened. She won’t be driving me to school again: trust me.”

There was something about Enrique’s face that tugged at the young woman’s memory. She had a nagging feeling that she had seen him somewhere else before-- and not too long ago, at that. She felt like she had the answer at arm’s reach, but her squirrel brain was still reeling from the almost-accident to make a real effort into putting the pieces together in order to decipher the young man’s identity. And because she didn’t want to embarrass herself even further by asking and being told she was wrong, Gigi chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

Before she could say anything else, what Gigi assumed was the warning bell rang across the school grounds, and she immediately turned her attention back to the boy named Enrique. “I have to go find my guide for this school thing, but I’m sure we’ll see each other around!” she told him, and had almost completely turned around before she added, “It really was a pleasure to meet you, Enrique. Bye!”

With one last little wave, the energetic Giselle nearly skipped towards the decrepit building, leaving a trail of sunshine in her wake.

As soon as Fiamma begrudgingly parted ways with Aiden in the parking lot, the anxiety that she had felt since the night before came back with a vengeance. Walking into this new school by herself was not something she wanted to do, but did she really have another choice? In one last attempt at seeking comfort, she checked her phone to see if Niki had replied to her texts, but there were no new notifications on the device. Letting out a sigh, the young woman squared her shoulders, took in a deep breath, put on her most cheerful disposition and marched straight into the school.

Fiamma made sure to take in slow, steadying breaths to keep her composure as she walked around what seemed like a multitude of students coming and going in all different directions. All the hairs on her body seemed to be standing on end with nerves, and she was becoming more anxious with every second she failed to locate where she was supposed to be. Thankfully, it wasn’t long until her blue eyes found the table with the name tags. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Fi headed in that direction.

"Hi, good morning!" the redhead brightly greeted the secretary sitting by the table while she glued her name tag onto her shirt. The older woman nodded curtly and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl. "I'm looking for a young man by the name of Spike?" Fiamma asked the woman, her voice full of uncertainty at her guide's name. No matter how hard she tried, there was no shaking off the thoughts that the name Spike, in her opinion, was more appropriate for a pet than a human. Clearly, Aiden’s influence was starting to rub off on her.

The staff member looked up, adjusting her glasses, before directing her pen in a direction. And when Fiamma's eyes followed the direction the woman was pointing at, they widened in surprise.

"Oh God…"

Down the hall, the boy known as Spike, in his knight suit, rollerbladed his way down the hall while taking moments to circle groups of people and handing them lollipops. “ROSEFELL KNIGHTS, WHAT-WHAT!”

He stopped in his tracks to appreciate the fine display of Spice’s lovely booty. Ah, Minty’s best friend, fine as hell, but was not one to bother right now. She looked like she was on a warpath, ready to murder someone, so yeah, that was not something he wanted to get caught up in. What was he doing? Oh that’s right. He had a Fiamma to pick up. Focusing back on the task at hand, he skated to the table to ask the sign-up lady what he should do if he didn’t know who he was looking for.

When he reached the table, he remembered something and blurted, “Shit! I forgot about my breakfast sandwich. Aw man, it’s probably cold now.” The staff member glared at the idiot and gestured to the girl next to him. His eyes went from the woman’s pen to an elegant-looking girl with the storm in her eyes. Like Flynn Rider from Tangled, he gave the girl who he didn’t know the name of a smoldering grin, “Hey” In classic Spike fashion, he went straight to flirting, “I’m not into watching sunsets, but I’d love to see you go down.”

The lady at the table was quick to yell: “SPIKE!” With an added incentive, she whacked him in the head with her magazine.

The redhead watched the exchange go down in amused silence, tightly pressing her lips together to suppress a laugh. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder in the general direction she’d seen Aiden walk off to, and internally snickered at just how exasperated he seemed to be about this whole thing. Even if he was looking less than pleased (and still cute with that adorable little grumpy grimace on his face), Fi knew he hadn’t heard Spike’s highly suggestive comment. If he had… Well, it probablywould have taken seconds for her boyfriend to have something to say about it.

“Jesus Christ! Okay, okay, dude. I was just telling her she’s a hot little thing, but fine, yeah. I’ll stop.” After that whole scene, he finally noticed her name tag. “Oh, cool! Hi, I’m Spike. Your tour guide. Lollipop?” Like the other people, he offered Fiamma, his guidee, a pop.

When offered the juicy red lollipop, Fiamma nervously chewed on her lower lip and hesitated to take it. Was it really a smart idea to put any sort of sucking-based candy into her mouth around this guy? With the way he’d been acting during this small time in his presence, there was no question in the girl’s mind that consuming the lollipop would be opening herself up to a plethora of dirty jokes, innuendos or comments. But since she wasn’t raised to be rude, the young woman accepted the offer.

“Sure!” she said with a cheerful little nod, grabbing the cherry-flavored pop extended her way and placing it inside her school bag. “I’ll save it for later, though. Not really feeling like candy at the moment.”

“All good, all good. Fiamma is it? Nice name! All you Liberty girls have pretty names.” Juno. Olivia. Fiamma. Cute girls. Cute names. Cute people. Rich people.

"Awwww, thank you!" she cooed sweetly, offering Spike her signature bright smile. "My name actually means 'flame' in Italian. My dad's Italian, so when he first laid eyes on me with the shock of red hair and said the word out loud, he and my mom knew it was the perfect name for me. It definitely beats something basic like Ruby, or Ginger, or Ember..." she trailed off, shrugging and grimacing at the idea of being called anything but Fiamma.

“Flame on! I can get behind that,” In good ol’ Spike fashion, he took a split second to check the girl’s butt out, not so subtly, before diverting his gaze and focusing on the hall ahead of them. Stuffing the rest of the candy in his backpack, that had been hanging from his shoulder this entire time, he clasped his hands together, burying the naughty thoughts away, and childishly grinned, “Okay, yeah. Tour. That’s what we’re doing. Now before I lead you around town all willy-nilly, is there any place you’d want to see? I’m here for you and want to make sure you’re comfy!”

“Oh, gosh: I would love to see your music room!” the girl piped up, her eyes shining at the thought of the room that would become her new safe haven. But given the overall decrepit state of Rosefell High, her innocence was, quite frankly, woefully ignorant.

“Oh, word. The music room…” Standing there for a moment too long, Spike went deep into his noggin to remember where the music room even was. It wasn’t an area he checked out often. “Second floor! That’s right,” He snapped his finger at remembering its location, before leading The Mouse to her requested area. “Uh, I do want to prepare you though.” He made sure his rollerblading was slow enough for Fiamma to keep up with him, “If it isn’t football, it’s likely… sad.”

Ever the optimist, Fiamma waved an airy hand, dismissing Spike’s comment. “Oh, come on! I’m sure it’s not that bad!” she said, foolishly refusing to believe that the school would seriously neglect a classroom as important as the music room. But when she saw the deplorable, pitiful state of the room, she audibly gasped in horror. And before she could stop herself, the girl found herself going off in a rant as flaming-hot as the hair cascading down from her head. “What’s up with schools always putting sports and athletes in such a high pedestal all the time?” she fumed, angrily pacing around the room. “I mean, I understand that athletes dedicate a lot of time and effort to excel in their field (literally and figuratively), but so do all of us who belong to the art community! Do individuals still fail to see the amount of blood, sweat, tears and uncountable hours we put into perfecting our craft as well? We were lucky that Liberty held both the sport and art communities at the same high level, but this?! Give me an effing break!”

Gawking at her the whole time she went on a tangent about budget rights and fuck sports, Spike sat on the piano stool, in and out of thought. Her hair was pretty. Light red hue, maybe strawberry blonde? She dressed conservative, vintage, and classy. Preppy plaid skirt, with a nice blue blouse. Posh was the word girls would say, right? It was a nice color palette to look at and complimented her hair really well. Aside from the outfit, her body was loose, at ease, swaying from side to side as she went about her rant. By the way she moved, he doubted she was a prude. HOWEVER, that was none of his business. It was wrong of him to check her out. She was clearly upset.

Curiosity washed over him, so he decided to get her mind off the crappy state of the room. To him, this was just how things were and it was a waste of energy to cry over the lack of things they had. Rosefell High was doing just fine with little to nothing. Clearing his throat to get her attention, Spike exuberantly asked, “What instrument do you play?!”

Spike clearing his throat brought Fiamma away from her small rant. The girl stopped in her tracks for a few seconds and shifted her attention back to her school guide just as he was asking her about the identity of her musical instrument. “I play the violin,” she answered, giving the blond boy a sheepish smile. How had she gotten so caught up with fiercely defending artists and almost bashing those involved in sports when her own boyfriend was the star lacrosse player of their old school? It wasn’t like Fi to go off on aggressive tangents like this. But music was her passion and her life-- it had always been. To see just how easily dismissed this passion of hers was truly struck a nerve with her. “Been playing since I could remember, actually. I’m part of the local teen orchestra and everything. It’s pretty sweet.”

“That sounds awesome,” Spike gave her an innocent beam, before teasingly adding, “I’d love to hear you play some time.” Briefly pausing, having gotten distracted by a strand of her dangling hair, Spike rested his blue eyes on her blushing face. Standing up, he casually made his way to her and pushed her delicate hair to the side, “Whenever you want,” he locked his attention on her, inches away, and continued suggesting them spend more time together, “Just say the word, and I’ll be there.”

There was no way Fiamma could hide how her face turned as red as the hair Spike had just pushed away from her face, the way she nervously swallowed at how closely to her he was standing, or how her heart hammered wildly like a caged bird inside her chest. The young woman was completely frozen with shock at being put in such a compromising position, without any real experience to go about favorably handling it. Before Aiden, the only males that had shown any interest in her were her father, her cousins, Marcos and Colin-- which were obviously only limited to platonic or familial interests. Attention from boys was not something she was used to receiving, or something she particularly wanted, either. And no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to not make the parallels between her first real conversation with Aiden and what was happening right now. She had no idea what to do next.

The sound of the warning bell ringing across every hall and classroom of Rosefell High brought the redhead back to her senses with a small jump of surprise. Finally, she was able to snap out of whatever trance her nerves had held her captive in, just in time to regain her ability to speak again.

“I, um… I have to go…” the girl croaked before turning on her heel and racing out of the classroom, her face still burning bright and hot with nerves and embarrassment.

Before Spike could stop her, she was already out the door. Still, he felt accomplished. That went better than expected. Maybe he had a chance with this Flaming hot-hottie named Fiamma. Poking his head out the door, he looked at her scurrying away, “See you around, Fiamma!” He would make sure of it.

---

---

When the others walked away, Marcos strode from the crowd of people surrounding the sign in table and went to a secluded wall. With furrowed eyebrows and a great disinterest to his environment, the jock pulled out his phone and scrolled through his Instagram feed.

His tour guide would have a hard time finding him due to the fact that Marcos Kingsley didn’t want to be found. His name tag was gone, thanks to himself, and he doubted this random dude followed politics. One of the few ways to learn the faces of the Kingsley kids in Ohio was through his father. If you follow winter sports, sure, you can learn a thing or two about his mother and his older brother, Leonel. If you follow video games, sure, you would know ‘yo im noah’ the stupid talented stoner streamer that aims to find cool gamer personalities to room with (in the guest house). Other than that, it would take someone who actually cared to stalk his family to find out more.

Standing anonymously, not bothering giving his name to the girls that clearly wanted to know, Marcos chose to be to everyone, at least for now, an attractive stranger. Nothing more. This whole merge situation baffled him. He found it amusing how the staff thought forced tours was a good idea. He would love to see what the school did if he skipped out.

Sighing, his dark gaze went from a picture of one of his friends to the time on his wrist watch. Marcos knew he had to find his homeroom soon. There was a deep desire in him to not go and to just leave. Deal with the repercussions later. Noah did it all the time. However, he knew his parents would give him more grief than not because it wasn’t like him to step out of line. Plus, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he coward out and not take his sister’s advice. Accept that shit happens and look at this sudden change as a positive experience. He hated change.

And as another guy came out of the nurses office, her nagging voice clearly cutting through the thunderous chatter from the students in the halls of Rosefell, a dark-haired boy, whose breath smelled of old vodka and attire smelled of 80s punker, found himself DP’d between the verbal beating Nurse Betty was giving him and the physical smack he felt on his side as he crashed into Marcos.

“Jesus!” Came out his visible annoyance, walking maybe a few paces away from Betty the Bitch.

“Be careful! You’ll break that nose of yours if you keep runn’in to people like that!” Betty was a southern woman and she had the sass of an old southern, white woman but without the racism. Thank God!

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Colin shrugged her off as he rubbed his cheek, which took most of the force from the collision. “Watch where you’re going, poindexter!” He snapped at the wall of a man who was literally dressed like an abercrombie and fitch model, making him have the astute deduction that this one was a Lib. “Oh, fuck me! You’re a lib, aren’t you? Actually, don’t answer that. Of course you are. Only a pretentious fuckwad would dress that straight and narrow.” Colin rolled his eyes, trying to have the cooler head.

He didn’t know this guy, so he had no reason to be so outwardly nasty towards him. “Meh, whatever. Sorry for crashing into that brick wall you call a chest.” The boy gave himself a laugh. “Anyway, name’s Colin. What the fuck do they call you?”

Colin? Marcos knew a boy named Colin once. A long time ago, or so it felt. With complete disinterest, the dark-haired boy eyed the stranger in silence and listened to his vulgarity. Why was everyone running into him today? Pocketing his phone, Kingsley gazed at the stranger that entered his bubble and directly answered, already exasperated at the other guy’s presence, “Marcos.” His eyes rested on Colin’s busted face and smoothly, he asked, “What happened to you?”

Colin raised a curious brow when he said his name. “Marcos, eh?” He repeated back, humming thoughtfully. It was a name he hadn’t thought about in years -- not since he moved from the bougie side of town. And he couldn’t say it left a positive note.

As Colin studied this guy’s face, something about it was oddly familiar, but he shrugged. “Well, let’s just say if you see a tiny little goth nightmare named Stephanie Cross running around, don’t get on her bad side or she just might wreck that pretty face of yours.” Colin’s comment came with a laugh that he felt in his face and he grunted from the sharp pain surging through it. “So why the fuck you hanging around these crummy halls anyway? No doubt you’re from Liberty, but aren’t you posh types supposed to come with a bodyguard or something?” He asked, taking in a slow breath to help himself get to a point where his nose wasn’t throbbing with pain.

The peace and tranquility that Marcos appreciated from his old school seemed to be a distant dream the more Colin talked. This kid either was rotting his brain by some hard drug or he hustled in the streets, thinking he was the best shit out there, when really, he was wasting his life away by being stupid, “You really know how to make a first impression.” Just being exposed to a chum like Colin was killing his vibe more than he thought was possible. If Marcos had a choice, he wouldn’t be here. That only took common sense to look at all the expressions of the new kids to see none of them wanted to be here. Did this kid assume that every rich kid needed a bodyguard? Like that was some common thing? Marcos wasn’t his father, a politician, seen on TV, and even if he was, he could protect himself. Yeah, no. Time to leave. “Good talk, but I’m heading to class.”

Colin let out another laugh, stepping in Marcos’ way, preventing him from leaving. “Now now, no need to be so sensitive, Marcella.” Colin placed his hand on Marcos’ shoulder, squeezing it with a bit of force. In the time he had been staring at him, studying his face, something was starting to click, but it couldn’t be...could it? “You know, you remind me of an old friend of mine. Bit of a high strung, thinks-he’s-better-than-everyone-else prick.” Colin kept his stare stone-faced for a few seconds before letting his grip go, even went as far as to straighten the dent he made into Marcos’ shirt.

While Colin was taking out the wrinkle in Marcos’ sleeve, the jock jerked his shoulder and furiously muttered, “Don’t touch me.” At this moment, Marcos menacingly glared at the pale boy’s face, letting their eyes meet. “You know who you remind me of?” Forcing his way through the lowlife, Marcos snarkingly smiled, “Nobody.” And that is what Colin will always be. A nobody.

JayVaughn Spencer had been pretty much oblivious to everything that had been going on around him once he'd set his attention on finishing his second breakfast. But it was a random voice exclaiming "don't touch me" that snapped the boy back to reality, causing him to instinctively scan the room to see where the sudden outburst had come from. His eyes instantly landed upon an unfamiliar face who stood right next to none other than Colin Gallagher, someone who he admittedly didn't know too well personally, but knew of well enough to assume that things were about to go south for both parties involved. And after realizing that no one else around him had plans to intervene, JJ decided to take matters into his own hands.

In swift motions, JJ tossed his trash into a nearby bin before quickly approaching the two guys. "Hey, fellassss," he said once he'd reached them, trying his best to create a small wall between the two - "small" being the operative word seeing as how that was exactly how JJ felt standing in between their slightly taller, anger-filled bodies. "Colin... always good to see ya. And you must be one of the Liberty students..." JJ took a quick glance down to see if the boy had been wearing a nametag, which he wasn't.

"Come on fellas, why don't we keep the peace, huh?" JJ said with a nervous chuckle. "It's only the first day back, let's not get into..." Jay paused for a brief second as his eyes flickered to Colin's bruised face, and he made a mental note to figure out what happened to him later on. "-too much trouble."

“I’m not the one trespassing--”

“Looks like your friend has nothing better to do. I was just about to leave,” Marcos grinded his teeth, stepping back and choosing the mature route. Some people didn’t know how to mind their business. Colin was one of them.

There was a breaking point of his patience and Collin was pushing every button to reach it faster than anyone has before. His rage while kept at a low simmer could blind him to the point where none of his surroundings mattered. Only the person in front of him did. You didn’t want to get on his bad side. Once you pissed him off, you were dead to him and he didn’t care how bad he hurt you. Marcos didn’t need that on his conscience on the first day of school.

Colin’s seething eyes fixated on Marcos for a few, intense moments. Despite all intentions JJ had, which were noble and on a regular day with any other person, Colin would back down. But today had gone off to a rocky start and Marcos Kingsley was the last person he expected to be face to face with. This pile of crap who deserted his friends for the flavor of the month and couldn’t even own up to it when he saw them again was as bad they got.

Yeah, you could say Colin still held a grudge or two for this disrespectful little bitch.

“Whatever.” Colin just shrugged, glancing at JJ as he pulled on his arm, tugging him away from the liberty trash as if declaring a silent war on him, while at the same time distancing himself away from Marcos. “My bad for ruining your tour. Marcos Kingsley isn’t exactly the kind of guy you want to show around our school.”

As JJ glanced over his shoulder at Marcos, whose figure had already started disappearing out of sight as they all went their separate ways, the young man finally started to put together the pieces in his head. Marcos Kingsley. He and Colin were supposed to be giving him a tour of the school that morning, which obviously wouldn't have happened regardless based on how the two nearly killed each other after only three minutes of interacting. Suddenly, JJ felt kinda silly with his nametag still sitting on his jacket, and as he peeled it off he couldn't help but think about how it was an odd coincidence that the two had been placed in the same tour group given their apparent history.

"I see..." JJ said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he spoke. Of course, he wasn't about to just take Colin's word and believe that Marcos was this terrible person; he much preferred to get to know others before judging them. But it wasn't like he was gonna tell Colin that, especially not since he still seemed a bit peeved from what had just happened. "He must've done something real bad for you to hate him so much. It looked like you two were gonna murder each other for a sec, so I'm glad I stepped in when I did."

Colin didn’t exactly hear what JJ said. He heard the boy’s deep voice penetrate his ears, but it found a loophole through the other. Never in a million years did he think that he’d ever have to deal with Marcos again. Until just a few minutes ago, he was convinced that fucker had moved away to some place far away from the shithole that was Ohio, but alas, he couldn’t get his way in any regard today.

“Yeah, I guess,” Colin shrugged, stopping in front of his homeroom. “I’ll catch you later, I guess.” Colin didn’t bother waiting for JJ’s response. His mood was shot and he just wanted to see if lasting through homeroom would improve his mood or if he was going to ditch the first day or not.

Samantha only laughed as she watched Jo moonwalk away. She really did love that girl. It wasn’t even a minute after she had left before Samantha had gotten a case of the I-miss-yous, given that Jo was the only person nearby that she knew and could actually interact with. Now, where was her tour guide? Samantha had looked down at her phone to check the time to see where this Sean dude was. Maybe he had found someone else named Samantha and gave them a tour guide instead? It was a possibility -- a rather insulting one to Samantha, but she couldn’t just straight up ignore that.

The streamer was glancing off into the distance before a voice yanked her attention elsewhere. Turning toward the location of the voice, she found a dude dressed in what she was 99% sure to be a Tuxedo Mask cosplay, complete with the rose. Samantha was a little skeptical of the whole getup and whatnot, but she found it hard to turn down a rose, considering she loved roses. She took the rose out of his gloved hand, before catching a glance of his nickname.

So… this was Sean? Out of all of the people on campus they had to pair her with Tuxedo Mask? He sure tried his damndest to make sure that he was

”Well… thank… you...?” Samantha glanced at the rose, before back at Sean, ”Do you give everyone you come across roses?”

Sean straightened back up while answering her with a smile, ”To all the Liberty students I passed who wanted to take them.” He gestured to the real rose in her hands with his own and a small tilt of his head.

”I thought the person who I’d actually be giving a tour to should be the only one to get a real flower at least. It, plus the costume, just seemed like a nice way to welcome you here to Rosefell and break the ice a little bit.” With that he stepped back, pausing as he checked the time from a nearby clock, humming in thought. ”Where would you like to be shown first?” The cosplaying male asked, shifting his attention back to Samantha and casually offering his arm like a gentleman if she wanted to link them. Or not, it was her choice, he was there just to show her around and put a good start to her first day. Well at least he hoped it would end up being like that.

Samantha took the flower and ran it up against her nose, at least the stem of it. Smelled like a real rose, alright. Not like Samantha actually knew what real roses smelled like but if it smelled like anything Samantha was pretty sure it smelled like that. ”Well, that’s nice of you.” Samantha took a moment to glance at Sean’s arm, which was clearly being held out for Samantha to link. She thought about it, her rose in hand as she mulled over the implications of this.

If Sean was willing to go through so much effort for all this, then there was no harm and no foul in linking arms, right? Samantha smiled and put her arm around his, wrapping it semi-tightly around his. ”Just take me wherever you’d like. You know this place better than I do.”

---

The tour Samantha took with Sean was a very enlightening tour. The tuxedo mask flair that he added to the tour made it a lot more enjoyable than it should’ve been, and Samantha didn’t mind it a single bit. She’d rather be stimulated and engaged with Tuxedo Mask than bored to death by… pretty much anyone else.

At the end of the tour, Samantha made sure to give Sean a proper goodbye, before heading off to her first class that she was pretty sure was halfway across campus. Samantha very much remembered the tour Sean gave her, but whether or not she remembered where everything was a question only time could answer.