Don't you think I'm pretty'' [Olivia && Zak/open]

[zakhery aiden west]

Zakhery did not fit into a New York High School. The levels of perfection had risen so high that they were no longer achievable; if perfection could ever be achieved anyway. It must be able to, because if it didn’t then nobody would be perfect, and if nobody was perfect then Zak wouldn’t feel so much like an outcast, a loser, a rockstar, a genius, a murderer; or a kid with too much imagination. He sighed, the wind sweeping through his black hair, blowing it out of place. He’d spent a while doing his hair, playing with the volume, making sure it wasn’t crispy and dead. It was certainly true that when you dyed your hair often, kind of like how Zak did, you had to look after it more so it didn’t die. He hadn’t had to hold a funeral just yet but he’d attended some of his friends and they were just awful. There was nothing worse than crispy black hair, or red hair, or purple, blue, green or pink. Or wind flushed, unless you designed it that way, otherwise it would just wreck the volume and create swirls and wisps. School was rough, Zak thought, pouting somewhat miserably as he sat alone on the steps of the quad, but at least his eyeliner had stayed in place. He liked to wear it heavy, shadowing his bright blue eyes symmetrically. When he really got dressed up he looked a lot like a corpse, and he liked that look; not because he wanted to die exactly, but because it was just cool. Death intrigued him, he liked to visit graveyards and use his Ouija board, other people didn’t understand but it was who he was.

The 6’2 seventeen year old stood up, adjusting his earphones to fit correctly in his ears. It was essential that they were properly positioned otherwise ‘A day to remember’ would really not be given the justice that Zak truly felt they deserved. Music was his life, along with movies, drums, make up, ghosts and many other things. It kind of depressed him, that things that ‘made his life’ didn’t include people but screw it, most people were dicks, especially to him. He looked around the quad, as if to experiment with his theory, as if looking would disprove it because of course somebody would come up to him and say hi, give him a hug and ask how his weekend had been. Unlikely. In fact, impossible. Instead his eyes bled black invisible tears as the sight of preppy bitches caught him off guard, how unexpected! Forgive the sarcasm; like every other day Zak was surrounded by the socially conscious, the people who stalked vogue and avoided Kerrang! And like every other day he was lost in his own little bubble, the clear contrast of white skin, black hair, clothes (today, skinny jeans, a black Misfits tee, fake leather jacket and red converse) and make up cutting through the crowd like a red needle amongst white. He did not fit in to a New York High School. The names and faces of those around him, inflicting on his space and oxygen, were admittedly known. He recognised the guy who’d punched him in freshman year, and the guy that copied his answers in Math, and the girl he had a crush on in his sophomore year, but a life alone, by himself, fixated on his own thoughts (and the voice of Jeremy McKinnon singing his sweet lullabies) would always be way more satisfactory than even one conversation with one of them.

He continued his stroll through the unbearable quad of preps and found an empty bench. It was humiliating having to eat by himself, it was humiliating having to eat at all but as much as he tried to avoid it, his stomach would hurt without it, and he’d get weak. He already was weak. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom to have his lunch either; apart from the hygiene reasons, being so close to a toilet would only tease his insecurities, and he was trying to keep his food down because he loved it so much, and he would often think about it, and he didn’t like to feel guilty, not for eating. He pulled out a cheese sandwich from his bag and pulled it apart, he liked to eat in bitesize, bitesize and quickly. From then Zak began to feed himself the small pieces, each to swallow was like scraping a blade down his throat, surely that was a sign that the whole thing was unnatural? He felt like everyone was starring at him. Eating in public, alone, was such a drag. Paranoia was equally a drag but there wasn’t much more that he could do. He had to eat, and he had to eat a lot because otherwise where would he get his nutrients from? Zak let out yet another loud sigh as he started on some chips. Lunch times could go foad.

[olivia jiselle ramos]

AND YOU CAST YOUR FEARS ASIDE

and you know you can survive

Olivia has woken up on time, but she was still running late. She partly blamed her sister, and the fact that she hogged the bathroom for a whole hour, but no matter who she blamed, time wasn't going to rewind back so that meant she didn't have time to yell at her sister if she was going to be on time. She quickly did her hair and brushed her teeth and threw on the first matching clothes she could find. She didn't have time for breakfast, and she knew she'd regret not eating later, but she didn't have time to worry about that. Right now, she just needed to get to school on time. Mikayla and Michael had left without Olivia which wasn't normal, but Olivia wasn't worried. Mikayla could handle dropping Michael off at his stop and walking to school. It wasn't like she didn't always meet her friends halfway there and ditch Olivia anyway.

Olivia was speed-walking, breathing hard, and holding her hair to keep it from hitting her in the face. The only reason she didn't run was because she was too tired from rushing to get ready and she was a little out of shape. She wouldn't be able to run very far before she started doubling over and grabbing her side. She would have to remember to add working out to her list of things to do. Finally, she reached the familiar building that was Belmont Prep. She gasped and bent over for a second, trying to catch her breath. she was really out of shape. She adjusted her bag strap and started walking up to the school, passing the occasional prep that gave her a cross look, the way to PDA couple that was tounging like no tomorrow, and the loners that made Olivia sad. She didn't have a specific clique, but she was ok with that. She didn't need to fit in with any, she was special, or that's what her parents told her.

Olivia went to her classes, struggling to stay awake and pay attention. It wasn't that she wasn't getting enough sleep, she just found certain subjects hard to focus on. So many times her head found itself resting on her cold desk. Her teachers didn't seem to pleased as she'd been sent to the office twice and given a zero for the day in math. Olivia didn't really care too much though, detention would give her a place to do her homework, and one zero wouldn't hurt her math grade, though her parents would beg to differ. Olivia was in her last class before lunch, and this proved to be the hardest to stay awake in. Olivia didn't know if it was because she knew there was food to come once the class ended, or if her teacher's monotonous voice had something to do with it. Either way, the period needed to end already. She didn't know how much more of her teacher's babbling she could handle.

Finally, the bell rang, emancipating Olivia. She quickly rose and was out of the classroom before anyone else. Olivia rushed and got her lunch from the cafeteria then went out to the quad. She faced the same problem she did everyday. Where would she sit? The quad was filled with cliques, from the preps to the athletes, scene kids, and loners (really even the loners had a clique, but Olivia couldn't find a crowd). Olivia walked with her lunch, trying to spot a friendly face. She would have looked for a familiar face, but considering most people she knew either didn't like her or didn't seem like the kind of people she'd talk to, that would pretty much be a bust. Everyone was already engaged in lunchtime chatter and gossip, and Olivia wanted to hurry up and sit down. She felt awkward standing and watching the others, like a stalker of some sort.

Olivia grew tired of standing so she walked off. She felt the eyes of a certain few staring and snickering at her. She let it roll of her shoulders, but she did take quicker steps and search for a place to sit. she noticed a lonely kid on a bench and saw an opportunity. She slowed her step and approached the bench. She sat down beside the kid and began picking at her food. She wondered if he was going to say something to her first, but she decided since she was the the once imposing on him, she should strike up the conversation. "Hi, I'm Olivia," she said, turning to him and offering a small smile. He certainly didn't look like the average New York student, and for some reason Olivia liked that about it. In a school full of designer clothes and clones, it was nice to find someone that was their own person.


notes: really low muse...sorry
lyrics:hero - mariah carey
outfit:click
tagged:zakhery

[zakhery aiden west]

As good as ‘A Day to Remember’ are, the creeping paranoia was demanding something a little bit more hardcore, a little bit more metal, a little bit more Crashdiet for the quadly atmosphere. It was such an atmosphere that overwhelmed the young boy, almost as if his oxygen was being squished out of him by the colour pink and blonde hair; generally blonde hair was not something that Zak could appreciate. It always looked so awful and so preppy, the worst look in the world. If a style were an animal, prep would be a sheep. He hoped he’d be a bat, or something cool like that, basically because he’d always been into vampires and there was nothing cooler than turning into a bat and sucking the blood of your fellow humans. It was romantic, deathly romantic; an image which kinda appealed to Zak. A blood stained anything was always more beautiful than a ripe flower about to die; it gave a life force.

Thankfully, as he lifted the last potato chip to his mouth, he’d finished his lunch. The actions of eating weren’t so much a problem, but the aftermath was. If only a minute had passed it seemed to be very prolonged, his stomach ached, his throat burned, and his head was reliving World War 2, without the Nazi’s and concentration camps. It was difficult not to get up and run to the bathroom, to rid him of everything that he’d engulfed, and everything was a massive understatement so he felt. No matter how much he didn’t eat he would always feel as if he’d had too much, and he knew it was wrong, he knew his mom would get angry and make him move schools again, but he needed to reach that level of perfection that would make everything perfect. He tried to pretend he didn’t care about style, reputations or popularity, but style and image was everything to him. It created his identity; it gave him an identity, and confidence to be himself. But he didn’t want to be the tall obese kid, and yet it seemed to be what he was turning into, what he was always turning into. Zak sighed and rested his head on the table, his cheeks squishing against it. Hardly an attractive look but what did it matter in school, when people constantly reminded him of how physically unlucky he was. He could see it in the way they looked at him, through squinted eyes and raised eyebrows. He clutched at his gut and momentarily shut his heavy lidded black eyes. Maybe the next time he’d open them the school bell would ring and it would turn out he’d napped for hours, and school would be out. He couldn’t wait to be out, but his parents would definitely murder him if he dropped out of school so he had to wait it.

It was a nice idea but highly unrealistic. Zak rolled his head up, and almost rubbed at his eyes, before he remembered the mess it could make. That was the problem with wearing guyliner, if he accidently rubbed his eyes too hard he’d become panda eyes; more than he already was. It was a hard life, and he felt groggily. Upon opening his eyes, and turning to his side, he was shocked to find a girl beside him. That was the problem with wearing earphones, the loud sounds of guitars, bass, drums and screams made him somewhat oblivious to what was going on right next to him, and by the looks of things, something big had been going on. A girl was sat next to him. This never happened, unless he was around people of his ‘type’ so to speak, which certainly never happened in school! He must have been sitting on her table or something because there was no other reason she’d be here, unless it was a bet. Wide eyed, he studied her, and then the rest of the quad, to see if there were any people that were giggling in his direction, egging her on with an encouraging smile. There was no one. And Zak was shocked, and still very suspicious. He let an earphone drop to his lap as he caught her introduction. Definitely a set up and it wasn’t even a April Fool’s day yet! ”Okay,” Zak shrugged defensively, ”And what, I’m sitting in your usual place? You want me to move? I’m blocking your view?” He questioned bitterly. It had caught him off guard, a person introducing themselves, especially a person as pretty as ‘Olivia’. There had to be an alternative motive, in fact it was the only reason he could think of. It was a sad reality, but the truth of it is, is that Zak had not once considered that she had sat next to him simply to enjoy his company.

OOC: A result from 40 hours of travelling over four days and 2 nights hard partying; sucks, sorry!

[olivia jiselle ramos]

AND YOU CAST YOUR FEARS ASIDE

and you know you can survive

Olivia took small bites of her food, not really wanting to eat it. The only thing that kept her from throwing it away was the rumbling feeling in her stomach. She normally loved food and hated the feeling of starving, so she forced the cafeteria food down her throat. It wasn't even that Belmont had bad food. It was a great school with decent food, it just wasn't her type of food. Granted, at a school with students like the ones at Belmont, it shouldn't be too surprising that the cafeteria would use organic this and fresh that, and bake most foods as opposed to frying them. Right now, Olivia didn't want her chicken caesar salad with carrot sticks. She wanted a BLT with extra bacon, some fries, and a giant Dr. Pepper. Olivia knew she didn't have the typical New Yorker appetite, but considering she wasn't the typical New Yorker she didn't really care. If she was hungry, she'd eat what tasted good and felt good in her stomach. Everyone else could either learn to accept it or simply complain about it. She wasn't changing her eating habits for anyone.

Looking around, Olivia noticed her appetite wasn't the only thing that divided her from the majority of her school mates. Olivia was decked out in Rue21 and other brands like that. She didn't own multiple designer bags, her clothes hadn't been on runways, and she didn't look like the sophisticated citizen some of the other quad occupants did. Olivia couldn't even remember the last time she wore a pair of heels, and she had people in front of her that had a new pair almost everyday. She loved herself too much to put herself through the torture of walking Belmont's halls in those uncomfortable things. Her converse were good enough for her. They were cute, comfortable, and matched almost anything in her closet.

Sometimes Olivia felt out of place when her classmates gave her sideways glances, like now, that she knew were probably because of her less than fabulous clothing choices. Her mother always told her if she'd consider a little more make-up and a wardrobe upgrade, courtesy of her parents, she'd probably be better of at Belmont. It worked for Mikayla. She was a social butterfly. But Olivia constantly had to remind her mother, and sometimes herself, that losing her sense of style would essentially mean losing herself, and that was something she refused to do. She would just have to tolerate the glances and comments for a little while longer. Soon, she'd be free of Belmont and its student body.

It took a few seconds, and a couple of pointed fingers for Olivia to realize her clothes weren't the current topic of discussion. No, it seemed the people watching her were more concerned about the boy beside her. Olivia looked over at him, and he still didn't seem to notice her. He too was not the typical New Yorker. The way he dressed, his hair, and his guyliner definitely set him apart from everyone else. Olivia had seen him somewhere before, but she couldn't place a name to his face. She was going to ask, but he seemed lost in thought about something. She was just about to tap him on the shoulder when at the last second, she retracted her hand. He hadn't even responded to her introduction, but maybe his music was too loud for him to hear her. She entertained this thought and considered re-introducing herself.

Just as Olivia got ready to tell the boy her name again, he spoke. She smiled at first, glad that he actually spoke to her. The smile didn't last very long though as the boy continued talking. Just his tone alone made Olivia want to leave the bench, but she had nowhere else to go. She let the boy finish, turned and took and deep breath. She was half upset and half pissed. She was upset because she wasn't used to people being rude to her and the boy made her feel very unwelcome. She was pissed because she also felt his attitude was completely uncalled for. She turned back to face the boy, and tried to steady her voice. "No, this isn't my spot and you don't have to move, unless you can't handle sharing this bench with someone," Olivia responded, and she couldn't help the hint of attitude in her voice. Really, what good reason did he have for being so mean?

notes: result of trying to this with my sister harassing me...sorry
lyrics:hero - mariah carey
outfit:click
tagged:zakhery

[zakhery aiden west]

Zak should have expected that she wouldn’t be entirely thrilled by his blunt response, which in itself was a normal reaction. However he felt entirely justified in everything he’d said to her. He was used to people coming up to people to bully him, start on him, ask him questions about his life, so it was only natural that he’d be suspicious of her behaviour. He raised an eyebrow at her reply, this too was not something he expected. It was as if she was actually being genuine. A strange feeling, he didn’t know whether or not to trust her. Zak inhaled a deep breath, and turned to look across the quad. Out of all of the people this girl could have chosen to sit with, she chose him. The theory of alternative motive had softened since she’d spoken to him, and yet he couldn’t prevent himself from searching for her allies.

Turning back to Olivia, he frowned. ”No, I can…” Zak started but then stopped, how was he to explain, to apologise for his behaviour. If she was genuine then she did deserve an apology, in fact she deserved a medal because for such a rarity of conduct. She was a pretty girl, they must have looked like quite the pair to a group of strangers, probably, like incompatible, like that stupid Goth kid shouldn’t be sitting with such a pretty girl, but nonetheless he was putting himself down again. It was a trait that was inescapable for Zak, a trait that he seemed to be born with, or at least a trait that he developed five minutes after birth, from meeting his overbearing big brother. ”I’m sorry.” he said, although his words felt stuck in his throat, as if they were yet to even reach his throat really because they didn’t exist.

If he got up and ran away would she be offended? It was tempting, he’d probably never see her again, but somehow it just seemed rude and it probably wouldn’t hurt him too much to sit with someone and actually have a normal, human conversation. His mom would be proud. ”It’s just, people don’t usually just come to sit with me. I mean I don’t really fit in too much at New York. Everyone is just beyond weird, I mean look at how they’re dressing… designer makes and heels and everything,” he shuddered playfully, ”You’d think their parents wouldn’t let them out the house like that. Complete weirdos, eh!” Zakhery smiled, it was a joke in an attempt to make peace with the girl. He held out his hand, though he was unsure if she’d actually accept it; a lot of people at this school wouldn’t, they’d probably think he was dirty or something, but just because he had black nail varnish on, it didn’t mean he didn’t wash his hands. ”I’m sorry for being rude, I’m Zak.” He hoped somewhat that she wouldn’t be too offended with his previous behaviour, and he was making the effort now but high school was difficult and teenagers took each bite like a bullet, it was difficult to get on in a world where everybody overdramatized everything.

ooc: sorry, it seems super small. i'm museless. gah.

[olivia jiselle ramos]

AND YOU CAST YOUR FEARS ASIDE

and you know you can survive

As Olivia waited on the boy to respond to her, she started to get highly irritated. She was used to the popular kids being rude for reasons she still couldn't justify, but where did this kid get off. By the looks of it, he didn't have friends as is and if he treated everyone the way he'd just done Olivia, she understood why. Normally, she would have talked so bad to the boy, but being in public she didn't want to attract a lot of attention to herself. Besides, if the boy were to argue back, that would just cause a lot of trouble that Olivia didn't feel like dealing with. Still, she couldn't just let him off the hook for talking to her the way he had. In her head, she was formulating exactly what she was going to say to him. Oh, was he going to be in for it.

Olivia was just about to speak again when the boy said something. his words instantly shut her up. Not because he'd said something rude and hurtful to her, but because he actually seemed sorry for his behavior. Her thoughts were confirmed when the boy gave her an actual apology. Olivia was stunned for a few seconds and it took a minute for her to form clear thoughts. She didn't know whether to be upset, forgiving, rude, or social. He'd already killed her desire for lunchtime conversation, but maybe it wasn't too late. Lunch still had a good ways to go and Olivia really didn't want to spend it wandering the halls like she normally did when her friends weren't around.

As seconds passed, Olivia managed to calm down and actually speak in a normal tone with clear words. "It's whatever I guess," was all she managed to get out at first. Then she finally spoke again. "I really had no intentions of making you feel paranoid or whatever, I just needed a place to sit. And yea, I don't exactly fit in with these people," Olivia motioned towards her classmates, "too well either. And for future references, please don't confuse me with these "weirdos," Olivia playfully smiled as she quoted Zak's name for the Belmont students, "I am nothing like these people." Zak went on to introduce himself, and he seemed to be in a better mood. "I'm Olivia...and you already knew that," Olivia said laughing as she remembered she'd already shared her name.

notes: sorry this one's so short, seriously museless. next will be better. promise
lyrics:hero - mariah carey
outfit:click
tagged:zakhery