What's A Slave, To Its King

II ✥ Who's She?

// hey guys! Been forever since I updated. So, trigger warning! I don't know why I'm adding this honestly, if you're gonna get triggered, do not read this story period. Like in my previous A/N I explained that this is a very dark story. To make things worse then they are, this hasn't been updated so I apologize. I just wanted this chapter out for you guys.

Ps. The slanted words are his intrusive thoughts

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I wasn't sure what was going to happen.

The bus ride was awfully awkward from there on. I was going to listen to my music like I had originally planned but unfortunately, my head phones were forgotten at home -I knew I forgot something! So, like a creep, I decided to look around at the vast and beautiful bus that had so many hidden wonders and surprises. If you couldn't tell, that was sarcastic. My eyes would occasionally dart from seat to seat, looking at all the people, each one of them looking as if their souls were ripped out of them. None of them were excited for the new day to come nor for the events that were held in them. I could see some head bobbing here and there, some gossipers talking (from where I found out that the purple haired kid is not to be trusted and only to be called LSP, otherwise you'll have rumours about you shoved up your ass for years and years) some speed texters and a dude who seemed awfully into punk; with his head half shaved, silver dyed hair and even all black attire. Self-note: don't mess with LSP and the silver punk.

So far in the day, I have not found a single reason as to why everyone made such a big deal of me sitting next to-... I haven't even gotten his name! You know you're fucked when you think you have a crush on someone whose name you don't even know. The only odd thing I caught on to was his occasional glances towards me like he was checking me out. Pfft. As if. Maybe he wanted to start up a conversation? Is that why?? Maybe he's just lonely and no one ever really wants to talk to him... I know how that feels... That would explain why everyone was surprised when he finally got a friend. Or someone to talk to... I'll talk to him.

But...

What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm a weirdo gay like everyone else does...? That would explain why he hasn't said anything. Is it maybe because I stink...? I had to sneak a whiff of myself to check if I stunk but I accidentally ended up taking in his scent. Sweet baby glob... His body spray smelt so sexy... All the confidence I had to strike up a conversation had just disappeared and I was like putty that he could do anything with...

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as the bus came to a screeching stop, nearly ripping my ear drums open. God, that sound was absolutely horrible! I guess that's why everyone either had their headphones in their ears or were actually deaf by now, just like me.

I had been too busy trying to fix my ear to notice that someone was standing right next to me, glaring daggers that could physically feel protruding into me. "What's the meaning of this, Marshall?" I looked up to see who the voice had belonged to and there she stood, looking almost exactly like the punk male that I mentioned earlier on. Her head wasn't shaved though, but it was clipped back from the sides and to the back of her head to resemble the shaved head of the male. "Marshall, hello!" She nearly screeched, her voice was so god damn annoying, it was far worse than the bust stopping itself. You know those blonde girls who have extra high-pitched voices that dripped with extreme attitude and bitchiness, always smacking on gum far too loudly? Yes, her voice was grosser than that.