Little Freak {HS}

I - Paperwork (part one) - Announcements {Intro}

It's the third attempt already, and now the letters of the tittle are cut in half. How frustrating!

I walk back to the computer I'm using, managing to ignore the judging stares as I smash the paper with my hands in the middle of a public library. I sit abruptly and face the monitor with a challenging expression. What should I be doing wrong? I open the paper again to compare its content with what it was supposed to be like.

"Shhh!" Someone mentions as I do, somewhere far behind me.

"Yeah, yeah.." I murmur to myself carelessly, leaning forward to change some settings I don't quite understand on the program and print it again, hoping for the worst again.

As I reach the printing machine, I watch as my announcement of inscriptions being opened to join me in forming a band slowly comes out again. My hands tremble in the air, waiting to receive it in its whole. Which, finally, ends up being exactly how I wanted. Well, not exactly; the letters are still little bit crushed... but it isn't too bad, I can go with it.

I walk fast to the computer again, not even sitting down as I make it print more, careful not to change anything. They come out, one after the other, all similar to their previous. And I happily take them, scanning each one with my eyes and making sure that's it.

"Excuse me. I may have to request you to not make so much noise." Someone comes again, this time tapping my shoulder to get my attention. But I still don't look at them, more focused on taking the last paper. If they don't want noise, why do they have a printing machine in here?

"On my way out." I claim, walking back to my spot, careful not to let the handful of papers I carry fall. I put my backpack on, grab my skateboard and glance at the clock on the wall. Seven forty something. Shit! I start running at this point, not really wanting to be late to class, still hearing the person that spoke to me speak even louder than before "And, please, don't run!"

×××××

I tear a piece of tape with my teeth to fix one more paper to the last streetlamp in my way, before I go inside. I struggle a little bit at first - I always do - and it eventually rips, leaving a piece of it in my mouth. I scrunch my nose as I paste the last corner before I take it out. I do it while I walk backwards
towards the building, looking at the announcement from afar.

I keep doing this every year. I've been trying to form my own band since the fist time I discovered I actually could. I can sing and play guitar, so that's a pretty good start, and I know more and more people are interested in music. For some reason, something always tells me that this time is the time.

But just like it's happening right now, some people look at the announcements curiously, but quickly turn away with a somewhat scared expression instead, as if they'd seen a monster in it. Maybe they did saw my name.

I sigh, finally managing to take the little piece of tape out of my tongue, and turn around quickly, almost crashing with someone that was coming behind me as I do. I glare at them instinctively and the small stature porting some random tattoos on the arms, piercing blue eyes, and a messy bowl haircut makes me immediately frown of discontent in such encounter, and understand why they weren't careful enough to not come across my way.

Louis Tomlinson, my graver enemy. Maybe I'm being a little too dramatic; he never did me no harm, but he's another reason for I never could form the band I so much want.

I'm a sort of a bad popular person, if you will. Not that I'm bad in its meaning, but bad in not being the kind of popular person people might be used to. Everyone knows me, but they do because they know I'm the one they must keep themselves away from.

To give a visual, I'd scare the bullies away just by stepping close, but I'd leave knowing better than to help the bullied stand up again, not to fright them even more.

I got used to it, at some point, so I don't really complain about it. And understandably so, now that means no one wants to have anything to do with me.

But Tomlinson's band only came to do worst. He's the singer and lead member of a four boys rock band, to which they call One Direction. Every single soul in this town loves them. Either because they are good artists or because they're cute. I won't disagree; I never dared to listen to them properly, so I can't tell if they're actually good or not, and I must admit they are not that ugly at all.

But I don't care! They take opportunities from me, because people only want them and no other band, and that's a bit unfair.

He sends me a weird grin without showing his teeth, and I can't tell if he's playing cool or malicious. I narrow my eyes at it and look at the other boys with him, staring at me too. I'm not sure if they know I don't like them, but I don't mind letting them know, if I ever need to.

I break abruptly through him and the one with a big brown hair quiff and their football jackets, walking fast into the building. On the way to my locker I fix one more paper on the announcements board.

"Not giving up, are we?" I turn around this time, recognizing the unmistakable voice.

"Principal Davis..."

"I know what you're going to say, but it's like I've said; I can't help you. What you want has nothing to do with the school--"

"But you could let poeple know in a better way than just... uninteresting paperwork." I interrupt gently, gesturing to the object I'm talking about. He holds his hands on his front and presses his lips together, sighing silently. I still add, hopefully, "They would listen to you."

He sends me a do you really think so? look but I don't really have time to rethink my beliefs. An unusual human buzz is heard outside the main door, some steps away from where we stand. I turn around to it, although knowing I wouldn't really see anything. "What's happening?"

"I don't know." Principal Davis replies very concerned and, as a good Principal, he immediately walks past me to check on the situation. "Oh, it must be the new student. Of course, there he is!"

The doors open wide letting through the four boys I unfortunately know so well, chuckling and tapping another long haired one among them on the back, at which he smiles at the ground and walks immensely. I still catch the people outside looking amazed after them, for some reason.

I scrunch my face again, turning around to go to my locker before I go into the classroom, while my small conversation with the Principal is completely discarded as he meets them and they exchange some words inaudible to me.