Chapter 1
Tick. “Breathe, we’re going to get through this” Tock “Our time is running out, faster!” Tick “Just a few more…Just a few more!” Tock “one. Last—“
“Okay class, your time is up. Ready your answers and submit it in front” Ms. Melbourn, the calculus teacher said. Claude glanced up, focusing his eyes to the desk where most of the papers are being stacked. Great timing Ms. Melbourn. I just finished my test.
Claude stood up and made his way to the front where the stacks keep piling up. He placed his paper on the very top of the stack, careful not to disarray the pile that was neatly arranged.
“That’s all for today, enjoy your weekend” Ms. Melbourn stood and left with the stacks of paper from the student. Claude could have helped her, but he was too preoccupied to notice anyone else.
Everyone stood to get out of the classroom, seeing that it was the end of the week. People have places to be and parties to attend. Claude stood back and waited for everyone to get out.
A person stood behind Claude as he is making his way to the door. The reflection in one of the mirrors in the classroom shows a petite girl with red hair and striking green eyes.
Claude faced the girl, being careful, he distanced himself for about a meter. “You can go fist” Claude smiled and gestured to the open door. “No, no you’re already close to it, you can go” the girl answered slightly awkward. It wasn’t even an offer for your sake. I really just don’t want to have you looking at my back while I walk. You creep. Who knows what that eyes could’ve seen?
Claude smiled and answered “If you insist, I’ll be going then”. Claude hastily got out and sprint-walked outside the school.
Claude is accustomed to walking to home from his school, and vice versa. His father wanted him to have a car but it was too much work in his opinion. Cleaning, Repairing and the maintenance altogether took too much time, money and energy.
Walking for thirty minutes a day helped with being healthy, and that was the only thing that he said to his father so he would stop pestering him about getting a car.
About fifteen minutes have past and he saw his house coming into view. As always, it was the picture of a perfection.He knew that it was the same inside as it was outside.
Walking up to his front lawn, he didn’t necessarily have the feeling of sadness, disgust, or anything in that spectrum towards his house. It just felt so….fake.
Claude pushed the door of their house open and a perfect living room comes into view. Everything looks fake. The chair, the tables, even the air feels fake, even though all of the things are far too real.
“Honey, get started with your homework so you can finish in time for dinner” Gina, Claude's Mom said, with a sickeningly sweet voice.
Gina is the epitome of a perfect housewife—as perfect as the once they portray as perfect on TVs—Perfect Hair, beautiful Nails, a polka dotted dress and high heels even in the house. She looked so Perfect
….and fake.
“Yes Gina” Claude answered with so much sarcasm and hurried past his mother and climbing to his room.
Claude doesn’t know why he acts this way. Sike I know exactly why I act this way. He was raised by perfect parents and given whatever he wanted. He should be thankful. But alas, he wasn’t.
Instead, he acts higher than anyone else, even his own mother.
Claude did his homework like the good child that he was. Not. He cleaned his room, helped his classmates with their assignment like the role model he was seen by everyone.
In school he is the perfect guy with the cute face and a fairly nice body. People commented about how his gray eyes looked like glass that were recently cleaned and his locks look like caramel that was intricately woven to look like hair.
He knew he can pass as someone good looking and he takes advantage of that. Not in the way it is easily noticeable, just subtle enough to be there but not be seen.
He use his charms to extend deadlines, be the party of the show and just to get whatever.
“Claude, Dinner’s ready!” I don't need you to tell me that Gina. Besides what you say is hardly valued. “I’m not hungry!” He yelled, with a tone that a parent would get mad for, but Gina didn’t get mad.
Because Gina never gets mad. Gina let’s Claude do whatever the fuck he wants because that’s what George wants Gina to do.
George. The insufferable bastard that Claude had the misfortune of calling Dad. In Claude's eyes he wasn’t worth anything anyone sees him to be.
He was just a sorry excuse of a man that happened to blow some seeds into Gina who in turn made Claude. Well, that’s how Claude sees it to be.
“Claude Arden, Get down Here!” He hears the his father calls him. Looks like the bitch came early from work. Sad. Could’ve gotten away with not facing the cheap fake humans I call my parents.
“Yes, Father” Claude Bellowed. When he got near their dining table, fixed with china plates and mouthwatering food, he found his mother and father sitting quietly while looking at Claude, waiting for him to sit down.
The same old creepy antics. Claude took his designated seat beside his father at the head of the table and in front of his mother.
“You may start now” George said.
“So, how was class, son?” George asked while cutting his steak.
“The usual, boring classes, boring teachers” Claude answered not even giving the effort of pronouncing a decent sentence.
“Good, Good” George answered.
To an outside eye this looks like the perfect dinner with a perfect family. And I hate it.
“I’m done” Claude didn’t even wait to be excused, he stood up and went out of the dining room.
“I’m going out. I don’t know what time I’ll be back and I don’t care If you wait up”.
Not that you care anyway, as long as I come back and be the perfect son you want, you don’t care.
Without glancing back to his parents he took his jacket and headed out, making sure to slam the door on his way out.
Typical. Typical for a teenage boy to go for comfort in the comforts given by Food. Or not, seeing as no one was in the 7/11 he was on.
Maybe they’re all so picky that 7/11 wasn’t worth looking at, good for me then.
He goes straight to the Tea section where lots of tea are displayed. Claude may not look like it but he was a big fan of good old Teabag and water. Not those sugar infused wannabes, you know exactly what it is.
He got a whole load of different kind, enough for a whole month. After almost emptying out the tea section, he goes to the Slurpee machine and gets a huge one.
Everyone likes a good Slurpee. How’s that song go again? Ahhh Freeze your Braaaaaiiinnn suck on that straw get lost in the paiiiin. That’s exactly what Claude is trying to do right now—Freeze his brain, not literally but you get the picture.
He strolled to the check-out line, already half of his Slurpee gone. Before him, he sees a guy that was slightly taller than him with a lean build.
Claude couldn’t see his face, just the black wavy hair his head has. The dude stepped sideways to let the next customer put down the things they want to check out, meaning Claude.
Claude puts the bags of tea down the counter and waved the Slurpee so the cashier will see. He noticed the guy beside him look at him for a brief second then the guy proceeded to get the things he bought and head out.
Claude thought the interaction was weird. All too weird, hope that guy wasn’t checking me out. I’m gonna fucking shish kebab his eyes into a stick.
He got his drugs (tea) and walked out sipping his Slurpee. The bell rung from above—when the fuck did 7/11 have bells—and he was hit with the cold night air, surprisingly it wasn’t the normal air he was used to.
It didn’t smell like the normal smoky with the plus of woodsy scent the suburban has to offer. No, it smelled like Lemons with a hint of peppermint.
Weird.
Not minding anything he walks to the direction of his house in a leisurely pace, not giving any shit about the scarcity of light sources to where he was going.
He passed an alley that is good enough to do bad things in and didn’t notice the figure leaning against a wall. Too late, before he even got a chance to escape, he was yanked and was crushed between the weight of the assailant and the wall.
There it is again. The Lemon. Claude was on high alert, ready to sucker punch the dude in the face. He was in for a surprise when the guy touched his chin and made Claude face the assailant and given the lighting, it was hard to see his face.
The urge to punch was still there, and with what the guy is doing, it grows more and more. But before he had the chance, an unexpected thing happened.
Soft plump lips came in contact with his own. Fuck. The kiss was quick and by the time Claude opened his eyes, no one was there.
After the debacle, he was clenching his fist so hard and gritting his teeth to the point of breakage.
He was so disgusted and in range that he punched the wall where he stood leaning a while ago. He could’ve punch me heck he could’ve even stabbed me, killed me for all I care. But this?!
Claude hated a lot of things. He hated Gina, George, the whole population of Central High and anything that wasn’t tea, food and books.
But what he dislike the most above all of these things?
Homosexual People.
Yes, Claude is a big ass Homophobe.
