Polaris

Laugh

Triggering Content- Physical and Verbal Bullying

-Blaine-

The whole class was stunned into silence. The new impossibly hot guy, Luka, stood up for the me, the school's outcast? It was shocking.

Luka, the student in question, tilted his head at everybody looking at him as if he had grown two heads. Mrs Abbotts took a few seconds to answer, "Um, sorry, what?" She spluttered out. Like all the other girls, she already had a big crush on him. Who wouldn't?

"I said, is there anything wrong with that?" Luka replied, narrowing his eyes at Mrs Abbotts. Why is he standing up for me? What does he want? I don't like this. I'm scared.

Mrs Abbotts' eyes widened. "Oh, there's nothing wrong! But just that he's in a gang and all, and a bat doesn't really make sense, I'm just correcting his mistakes.." she immediately changed her tone into a sweet one. "Mr Carter, you have to change your design." She said, her tone dripping with sweetness. I looked at her in the eye, and her glaring eyes basically spoke to me. "Say okay, or you'll be in trouble."

Before I could answer, Luka spoke up again. "There is no right or wrong in art. Being an art teacher, do you not know even the most famous quote?" Luka smiled gently, making him even more impossibly handsome. Some girls swooned over him, even in such a tense situation.

"Some art teacher you are." He said sarcastically, imitating the voice she used with me. He then turned towards his drawing, finished up the last few strokes, packed his bag, and walked out of the classroom. "If this is the standard of all your teachers, I would be very, very disappointed." He looked at me for a while, and walked away.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the class was back to its usual noise level. I kept the drawing after Luka took my side, but it earned me a long and hard glare from Mrs Abbotts, who obviously thought the reason Luka had a bad impression of her was because of me. I could only keep my head down and continue working on my art. Soon after that, the bell rang.

I had one last class to go to. Walking towards my locker, I saw Dylan and his lackeys out of the corner of my eye. Oh no. I tried to shrink myself as much as possible, praying to every god I knew that they wouldn't see me. Of course, they did.

***
"Hey, fag. How was the nap you took in the infirmary? Nice, wasn't it? How about I help you take another nap? It'd keep you away from fucking the hags you do every night. Haha, if I had to do charity, I'd buy a lock for your legs. After all, you have an open leg policy to anyone with a dick." Dylan snickered, before knocking the books out of my hands. I couldn't fit them in my makeshift bag, so I had to hold the books with my hands. I immediately squatted down and tried to pick up those precious books, tears stinging my eyes.

I know I'm very emotional, but I had a reason for it. They were the only things my parents didn't take away from me. As I was just about to pick up a book, a foot stepped down on my hand and applied pressure. I screamed in pain.

Apparently my pain brought them pleasure, as Dylan stepped down even harder, my bones threatening to break under the pressure. I started crying, and someone my tears fell down onto his shoe, the one that was crushing my hand. Dylan immediately retracted his shoe, and growled in anger.

"How dare you, a fucking faggot... Dirty my shoes?!" He kicked me in the abdomen, sending me crashing along the line of lockers. I threw up a bit of blood. I heard something crack, and I was thrown into immense pain. He broke my ribs. I cried even harder. It just hurt so much, and I wasn't allowed to cry at home. "Why...why are you doing this to me?" I whispered out.

Dylan cursed out loud. "Obviously because you're so pathetic. You should just die. You'd do everyone a favour." I held back my sobs as I thought for a while. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should just die. My life had no meaning to anyone after all. My parents would hold a celebration for my death.

***

"Pfft-" I heard someone break into laughter. Probably laughing at how pathetic I am. I'm disgusting. It's all my fault. I hate myself. "If he deserves to die, what makes you think you don't deserve to?"

I've heard that voice before. Low, smooth, melodious, and calming. Memorable.

After all, this voice belonged to the only person who sided with me. Luka.

I looked up, trying to ignore the pain in my chest. He was as handsome as ever, and a whole group of people surrounded him. Mostly the popular girls but there were the boys too. Wow. He had already joined the ranks of the popular kids, and risen to the top.

From his simple comment, Dylan got annoyed. "Who do you think you are? My father is a manager in Noir Inc, and I'm the highest rank in this school!" Dylan gritted out. Luka looked surprised for a second, before smiling his ethereal smile and replying "Ah, I see. A daddy's boy." The group following Luka around snickered softly, but they didn't dare to laugh out loud. Dylan really did have a father in Noir Inc, and he was their leader back then, due to his colour. On the other hand, Luka's background and rank was unknown.

From his surprised reaction just now, he didn't expect such a high position, probably. The popular kids weighed their options, and most decided not to laugh, and look at Luka angrily instead.

"Hey, Luka! You can't say that!" They said. Luka looked genuinely confused. "Why not?" He questioned. With that, the students were silenced, some of them already knowing Luka was doomed.

Dylan saw red, and charged at Luka.

"You'll regret saying that!"