"what's wrong Paris, what happened today?" Paris's counselor asks, concerned.
Paris couldn't form the words to describe how he was feeling, but he knew he was hurting because the pain in his chest from all the complicated emotions was piling up inside him, itching to get out.
"Should we call home?" Ms. Evans whispered, as her hand lingers over the telephone.
"No, you don't have to. I already told them." He shoots up, acting like nothing happened.
Ms. Evan looks at Paris for a good long bit with her piercing green eyes, the analog clock ticks louder than before.
"Okay, honey. Let's get you back to class now."
He walks toward his 6th-grade teacher's room. Paris walks in shame toward his assigned desk he likes to call 'Hell.'
"Look guy's gay boy's back." Karson chuckled, eventually getting the whole class to laugh with him.
Karson, a.k.a "Fuck face" dubbed by Paris himself, is the hottest guy at the school, not only is he physically hot, he's high-key popular. One time he cut some girl's hair off cause she rejected him in 5th grade, and got away with it cause all the teachers knew his parents, they are filthy rich, his parents are literally why the school has so much money, they basically can own this school if they wanted to.
"Alright class, quiet down. It's almost lunchtime you can talk about how much you want when it is." Mrs. Glover looks at everyone in the class except Karson.
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Paris gets in the lunch line anticipating the meal he's been waiting for all day. He gets his lunch and sits down at the crowded table with a bunch of different friend groups playing like wild animals.
He eagerly gets ready to eat his lunch, but before he can even touch his food, milk pours into his plastic tray overflowing his now cold food, the whole cafeteria reacts in awe.
"What the fuck!!" he said in his soft-spoken voice.
Karson smiles, "you forgot your milk."
Paris gets up standing up to him.
"What? You don't like milk?" Karson questioned Paris, letting his cockiness show.
Paris didn't say a thing, he didn't have to, he let his fist say the first word.
As punches were being exchanged Paris let all of his frustration out on him saying, "I'm gonna make you choke on your words bitch."
"WHAT'S GOING ON!!" The principal came running breaking the fight up.
after he broke them up there was an awkward silence. No one was talking, all eyes were on the two delinquents.
That's when Paris realized he loved every last fucking bit of the attention he got from just that fight alone.
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Both bruised up, they sit in the waiting room of the principal's office, arms folded trying hard not to look each other's way and starting up a new altercation.
"Mr. Peters," Mr. Stanford said sternly. Karson walks past me staring with fire in his eyes.
"Mr. Peters I see this is the first fight you've ever had." (It literally wasn't)
"Yes, sir it is."
Karson didn't have a single nervous cell in his body, he knew he was gonna get away with a tap on the wrist, as he always does.
Mr. Standford picked up a pen and laid down a sheet of paper. "can you tell me your side of the story?"
"Of course...I walked into the cafeteria and saw Barlowe messing with these innocent boys, he was terrorizing them like-"
"HE'S LYING!" Paris bursted through the door loudly disturbing the meeting that was going on in the room beside him.
"You're not supposed to be in here!" Karson waddled behind the principal's desk.
"YOU TWO, KNOCK IT OFF!" Mr. Standford hit his desk with his rough hands.
"Sit, now."
They both sat down quickly not trying to cause any more problems.
"I don't know what you two young men have going on but if this continues, you both will be suspended."
They sat there silent until he was done talking. He dismissed them at the same time, giving them both orders to head to the ISD (In School Detention) room.
The two, stepped into ISD where they would be isolated for the remainder of the day.
"Look what you did! I'm here because of you." Paris rolled his eyes.
"I don't care, boy lover." Karson scoffed while fixing his hair.
YOU ARE READING
THE ICON (bxb)
Romans"WHAT KIND OF PARENT AM I LETTING MY KID RUN AROUND SAYING HE LIKES BOYS." "The right kind." Paris grew up in a unsupportive household, not believing his dream of becoming a Popstar would succeed his family all tease him with words of discouragement...
