Nero was a pretty normal looking guy, all things considered. He was tall, a droopy attitude and a laziness about him that was visible from a single glance. He had raven black hair and ebony eyes. Although pale, he was well-built, had a pretty face and would probably be pretty popular with the girls if it wasn’t for his hideous facial scar. The scar penetrated his skin on the right side of his face from the corner of his mouth, curving slightly towards his ear and was painfully white and visible. It had stopped bothering him a few years ago, but before that he had tried every method in the book to hide it. Even makeup. As Nero had grown older and careless about his face, so had his classmates and the people who knew him. They were all used to it by now and he had come to a stage where he had his trustworthy acquaintances to hang out with. He wasn’t miserable. Not by a longshot. He refused to be.
For some reason he felt restless in class that day. It was sunny outside, and he could see dust particles swirl in the air. The teacher’s lecture became distant and blurry, like a cloud drifting in front of the sun and erasing the light keeping him awake. He sat at the very tip of his chair crossing his hands over his chest; leaning nonchalantly backwards and blinking slowly as last night’s lack of sleep came creeping up on him. His thoughts wandered far away and he slowly felt a yawn build up in the back of his throat.
“Nero, are you paying attention?” His eyes rolled up and he stared up at Ms. Waters. He blinked as he regained consciousness.
“Yes ma’am.” He cleared his throat and heard snickering behind him. He sat at the very front of the classroom; something he hated. Nero was an observer and from the very front he couldn’t observe his classmates. Ms. Waters chose to ignore him and went on with her lesson. For some reason his gaze wandered to his left, towards the window. To his surprise another boy was looking his way. Their eyes met and he froze, unable to pull away. The other guy didn’t avert eye contact either, and so they remained staring at each other for an awkward amount of time. The other boy then smiled briefly and finally looked back up towards the blackboard. Nero’s confused gaze fell back to his desk. That was probably one of his more mind boggling moments.
The boy he had been staring at was Bianco. Bianco was one of the weirdest guys Nero had ever encountered, and not in a good way. He was downright creepy. Bianco was half a head shorter than him, white haired and pale. His eyes were like deep black holes in his skull. Strangely big. He was well built however, not at all what you would expect considering how skinny he looked in those big baggy clothes he always wore. His hair was thick and ravishing and seemed to defy gravity at times the way it fluttered about; almost ecstatic. For some reason Bianco was popular with the younger girls in school. Nero was sure it was because of the boy’s exotic choice of hair color.
Nero had never talked with Bianco. Just observed him from afar, and the way he interacted with other people. They were two completely different people. Nero had no desire to engage in a conversation with him. He felt embarrassed by their little stare down. He tried to forget about it, but it only made him more restless. He couldn’t wait for the class to end.
As soon as the bell rang he grabbed his coat and stormed outside. He walked to the back of the school and perked out a cigarette from his nearly empty pack. He struggled for a few seconds to light it and made a sigh of relief as he felt nicotine rush to his brain. He let the smoke dangle in between his lips while he watched the dazzling sky. It was strangely cold outside despite of the fat sun dangling in between the clouds. Frost escaped his mouth easily, and his teeth ached strangely at the fresh air. It was approaching autumn. He took a deep breath of fresh air before stomping the cigarette against the brick wall.
The cigarette had calmed him down a little, but he still felt that deep restless uneasiness roaring inside him. As if his chest would cave in from anxiety any moment. He knew the way to calm it. But the thought of that sharp razor in his back pocket made him want to vomit. He clenched his upper arm; straining his jaw forcefully.
As he saw the deep crimson fluid trickle down his wrist, Nero felt a rush of adrenaline strike him hard. A ragged breath escaped his lips and he felt his gaze become blurry with excitement. The pain was as deep and overwhelming as he remembered it to be. A series of white and withered deep scars covered both his upper and lower arms. The fresh ones had a deep red and brown texture to them. He could still feel the hard rim forming fresh scar tissue on his pale skin. He swallowed and locked his palm over the fresh wound. He had cut deeper than he intended to. He would have to head home now; there was no way he could attend another class like this. He sighed irritated. Just then he heard vague footsteps, and he immediately pulled down his sweater to cover his wounds. To his surprise he saw the white haired teen approach him. He stared over at Bianco with accusing eyes. No one was supposed to interrupt him during this.
“Hey.” Bianco seemed calm. There was something about his eyes that made Nero uneasy yet again. They were unmoving and scary.
“What do you want?” His question came out harsher than he intended. Bianco ignored the tone in his voice however, and walked up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. Nero swallowed nervously.
“Why did you stare at me during class?” Nero’s gaze fell to the ground. He had hoped his little accident would go unnoticed.
“No reason.” His answer came out sounding like a sulking child. He could feel the other teens eyes on him.
“Really. Last time I checked you don’t randomly stare at someone like that without a reason.” Nero started to get annoyed. He looked up at Bianco with harsh eyes.
“Look, I’m not looking for a fight if that’s what you think. I’ve got better things to do. Now leave me alone please?” Bianco tilted his head and gave Nero a strange smile.
“So you call shooting up with razor blades ‘better things’?” Nero’s eyes widened as he realized Bianco had seen him. His throat felt dry. All the restlessness the razor had just removed came welling up in him like adrenaline. Bianco chuckled softly. “Don’t look so scared. I’m not going to tell on you.” His smile widened, but Nero didn’t feel any safer by his words. Bianco slowly bit his bottom lip. “May I take a look? I’m pretty good with wounds.” His voice gave Nero chills. As if the other teen enjoyed his weakness. A strange anger suddenly dwelled inside him, and he stood up in a fury.
“Leave me the fuck alone, freak! I’m not showing you shit!” Something changed in Bianco’s face as he uttered these words in his face. Without warning he felt a jolt of pain hit his gut, and Nero fell to the ground. He didn’t have time to wonder about this however; as Bianco planted a sharp kick in his face. It took him a few second to recognize the pain spreading across his face. He gasped for air as blood gushed from his nose. Bianco grabbed his collar and forced him from the ground and pushed him up against the cold brick wall. Nero coughed confused as he stared back into the white heads deep black eyes. “The fuck…?” Bianco took a moment to look him deep in the eyes before placing his hand around Nero’s throat.
“I don’t much appreciate the way you speak to me. It’s disrespectful. I was only showing some compassion to a pain addict like yourself.” He tightened his grip and Nero twitched.
“You’re a fucking psycho… let go of me, fucker!” He managed to push Bianco’s hand away. Bianco narrowed his eyes coldly and Nero felt a strange fear rush through him. Bianco reached for his back pocket and Nero watched him nervously. He felt his hand ache and shiver with pain. He was sure he was bleeding quite a lot by now. Bianco pulled out a butterfly knife which he held up against Nero’s face. The raven haired teen quickly pulled away and stared terrified at the sharp blade. His body convulsed in strange fear he hadn’t felt in years.
“Maybe I should slice up the left side of your face as well. Make it symmetrical. It would look good, no?” Bianco had a strange cold smile on his face. His voice was distant somehow; sounding like a whistle. Nero could only stare perplexed at the blade coming dangerously close to his face. “What’s the matter? Don’t you enjoy pain?” Bianco tilted his head while his hand moves closer to Nero’s upper torso. As the teens slim fingers bumped against Nero’s chest, the raved head smacked Bianco’s threatening hand away from his face and quickly crawled away from him.
“Get away from me!” He started hyperventilating, clenching one hand to the left side of his face. “Get away, don’t touch my face!” he staggered to his feet, then walked two steps, before he fell to his knees again and tears streamed down his cheeks. Bianco watched him silently. Nero felt deeply disturbed and hurt. He felt warm liquid drip from his fingertips, but he could only sit still and sob quietly. He heard the other teen stand up and walk towards him. “Go away, please…” Bianco walked all the way up to him and kneeled in front of his face.
“Look at me.” Nero shook his head; his dark bangs dangling from side to side. Bianco carefully touched his hair and Nero flinched nervously. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Nero finally glanced up at him with dubious eyes. Bianco’s face was back to its neutral norm. “I’m sorry.” Nero stared weirdly up at the other teen’s apologetic face. Bianco pulled down his own sleeve and gently pushed the fabric against Nero’s sour cheeks, drying away the tears. Then he tried soaking up the blood coming from his nose. Nero sniffed again and again and let the white head clean up his messed up face. He felt miserable. Like a child that had just tripped on his face in kindergarten. Bianco gave him a strange smile; arching an eyebrow. “You’re looking at me again. The way you did in class.” Nero frowned.
“You’re a horrible person.” He voice was raw and tired. But he refused to let the other teen treat him like a sorry brat. Bianco clenched his jaw, pushing hard unto Nero’s nose. “Ow!”
“Watch your tongue.” But he didn’t seem mad like before. Instead a brief smile crossed his face as he finished cleaning up his face. “You’re not easily tamed, are you?” Nero gave him a weird look.
“What?” Bianco watched him silently. His gaze contained something Nero couldn’t quite grasp. It was distant and wondering, like a thing he didn’t want to let loose just yet.
Then it happened. Bianco leaned forward, so swift and so fast Nero couldn’t react before their lips was locked in a soft embrace. He froze still like he had done in the classroom, unable to pull away. Bianco’s lips were warm. It felt completely different from kissing a girl. Not that he had kissed many girls, but the few he had kissed had thick soft lips which felt like pushing your face against a pillow. Bianco’s lips were thinner, rawer, hungrier. He felt the teen’s fingers indulge in his raven hair and push him closer. He then regained his senses and felt repulsiveness well up inside him. Nero forcefully pushed him away.
“What are you doing!” he stood up and took three steps back, trying to undo the kiss with the back of his hand. “That’s disgusting!” Bianco frowned and stood up as well.
“Disgusting? Have you never kissed anyone before?”
“Not a guy!” He felt his face flush red and he spat on the ground. He stared accusingly back at Bianco. “You’re seriously sick. Just stay away from me.” He grabbed his coat which was stomped into the ground by now and walked away from there still feeling blood gush from his freshly open wound. Nero felt like crying again, and cursed himself for being so weak. He was supposed to be strong and rebellious, standing up for himself and not caring about other’s opinions. But his shield had been torn down by a disturbing kid who made him feel disgusted about himself. As if he didn’t feel bad enough already. Nero left the school in a hurry, not bothering to get his bag and books.