Chapter 1

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TW: USE OF SLURS

A/N: I WANT TO ADD THAT I AM LGBTQ+ AND CAN USE THESE WORDS 

       Walking into school, I regret getting out of bed this morning. After moving from England to Fources, France for my dad's job, I wish I'd just stayed in England. If my dad could, he would have probably left me there.

My names is Lucien.  My mom named me Lucien because in Latin and Greek it means "light" and she said when I was little, before she died, that no matter who I was or what I looked like, I'd always be her light. My dad used to like me, before I changed the way I looked, and came out as gay and to my family. The funny thing is the only ones who supported me were my mum and my lesbian aunts. 

Because I dress 'punk,' I dye my hair a lot, I have my septum and my lip pierced; and my many ear piercings and I'm short as shit. because I was born with heterochromia; which my dad has always grossed out about; I do not fit into a perfect kid box that my dad dreamed up. That is a problem for my father, because he wanted a popular straight, straight-A student that would be a goodie two shoes, but then he got me. Wouldn't think I would be a favorite of my dad, huh.

Anyway, Being 5ft 4 is pretty nice in school.  I used to get beat up, so I taught myself how to fight and it's been helping me ever since. A few weeks into school and I've already got a lot of people afraid of me, the ones who've seen me fight of course. 

For the popular kids, me and this one other kid named Finn are also known as the 'goth freaks' for looking and acting like we do. Pretty cliche, huh. 

 Still, people like the football quarterback don't believe that I'm more than a small child as their personal target. I don't even think he's seen me in a fight, which is why he probably decided to approach me this morning. "Hey green-haired fag!" someone yelled. I look over my shoulder to see Todd, the football quarterback, and his frat friends approaching me.  I make a bruh face (in my head of course) my hair is only like 50% green. this bitch need glasses or sum?? i look back up at him, realizing i zoned out

"Very original nickname," I speak apathetically. I notice that some of his groupies are cowering more than others. I recognize some from detention, but the rest are floating souls to my memory. As he approached me, I got the feeling for something I always would know when it's coming, and that's trouble. I never thought I would get the chance to fight the school's most high favor student.

"What you got there, poof?" Todd sneers, glancing at my gloves. I'm not surprised he brought it up actually. Every day, I wear these finger-less gloves, and some of the teachers wonder what their importance is. I bet you would think there is some sob story about it, but not really. I just wear these gloves because my mom gave them to me, and I think they look cool. Right as I turn around to walk away, Mr. Quarterback snags one of the gloves out of my hand. I turn around to see that he and his minions are snickering while throwing my glove at each other like a hot potato.

"Catch it if you can you little queer!" Brian, one of the football players, yells. I can feel the steam screaming from my ears, yet I stay collected on the outside. I watch my glove go back and forth between guys, and as soon as I zero in on Todd catching my glove with his sausage hands, I push forward, my shoulder in front of me. For him being a football player, he was pretty easy to slam into a locker. While Todd recovers from the strike, I grab my glove from the floor and slip it in my pocket with its partnering glove.

As I start to walk away, someone grabs my shoulder; I turn around to see Todd, a small trail of blood trickling down his face from a small cut slit across his forehead. Despite the noise, no one has come out of their classroom yet. Down the hall, I see a tall figure turn the corner, and before I can identify them, Todd swings at my face, landing a hard punch to my jaw. We brawled it out for the next minute, and I've landed a few more blows than him. 

When I'm done with fighting and Todd seems too messed up to keep going, I start walking away. That is until I hear a hard crack, and the distinct sound of a fist meeting a nose echoes through my head. I twist around to see unconscious Todd at my feet with a pocket knife falling out of his grip, and as I'm looking down, I see a tall pair of long, slender legs next to his body, and I bring my head up to see someone towering over me.

It's Finn, the other kid I was talking about before. Even as he is already tall, his jet black platforms must knock him up another inch or two. As my eyes meet his, I notice that his emerald green eyes are piercing into me. We held eye contact for a while and I looked down at his hands, and I felt my face flush, embarrassed about my freaky eyes.

 His knuckles on one hand were turning a reddish shade of purple, not as bruised and battered as mine, but to let me know that he must have imprinted his fist into Todd's nose.

 He notices me staring at his hand, and he stuttered, "I hit him because, uh, he had something in his hand and was gonna knock you out with it," seeing my hesitation, he rambled, "I mean, I know you could have handled him, but he would of knocked you out and that wouldn't be fighting fair and I-" 

  A/N- ik that Finn would usually be the really tough and macho guy, but he is a puppy and no one can tell me otherwise

"Thank you," Finn looks at me as if he's astonished I spoke at all, as if he was expecting me to just walk away. I raised one of my eyebrows and gave him a look as in 'what?' he puts his hands up in front of his chest and spits out, "Well I, uh, gotta go to class so I'll-"

"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" a voice behind us booms. I turn around to see the big man, in all his glory, Principal W. Seymour Skinner. Story of my life, we both got detention. I never really understood our school, because if you get detention you don't even go to class, just straight to the detention room. It doesn't even make sense.

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