Miss Popularity (Marcel Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

*Marcel's POV*

"Ew! What is Marcel doing here? Who left his cage open?"

"It looks like your face caught on fire, and someone tried to put it out with a hammer!"

"Go kill yourself, you loser!"

I have to put up with this every day. The name calling. The insults. And even worse, the death threats.

"Teacher's Pet!" Somebody laughs, and smacks my books from my hand and shoves me against the lockers. I look up to see one of the most popular, and meanest guys in school. He's a senior named Jake.

"Listen, nerd. Nobody likes you. Did your Mommy and Daddy drop you on your head when you were little? Or did they throw you out of a 14 story building? I-" The bell rings signaling that there's 5 minutes until next class, and saving me from this jerk. "We'll finish this later, Nerd! This isn't over!" He states, before showing me to the ground, as everyone rushes to their classes.

I jump, as I feel somebody gently touch my shoulder. I turn around, and see a gorgeous girl. Flawless skin. Dark eyelashes. Full, red lips. And bright red, fiery hair. Beautiful, and totally out of my league.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asks, as she passes me my books.

"Y-Yes." I reply, wondering why a stunning girl like her is talking to me. Why wasn't she insulting me like everyone else?

"I'm Dakota, by the way. Dakota Caylen. I'm new here." She says, and smiles.

"I'm uh.... I'm Marcel.... Styles." I reply nervously.

"Marcel, do they always treat you this horribly?" She asks gently.

I nod. "Yes."

"They have no right to treat you like that. You're a human too. You have feelings, just as they do. We're all equal." She says.

"No.... We're not. They're popular. I-I can tell you're going to be popular t-too. And I'm just..... Well, er.... N-Nobody likes me, and I don't know what I've done.... D-Dakota, we're not equal."

"If you get cut, what color do you bleed?" She asks.

"What?" I say, unsure about where she's going with this.

"Just answer. What color do you bleed?" She repeats.

"Red."

"Now if I get cut, what color do I bleed?"

"Red."

"Exactly. If you get cut, you bleed red. If I get cut, I bleed red. It doesn't matter if you're white, black, Asian, Native, Muslim, whatever race a person is, we all bleed red. We're all the same."

Dakota does have a point. But still, I know I'm below dirt on the popular list.

"I-I.... Wow I-I never t-thought of it that way...."

"Well, it's true." She grins. "Hey, um.... Could you possibly show me to where Mr. Hendricks' art class is? I don't want to be late."

"Yeah, sure. I need to get there too. C'mon. I'll show you the way." I smile, revealing two dimples on either cheek.

"Oh, and do yourself a favor, and don't sit with me in class. It'll only make things bad for you." I say, trying to convince her against sitting with me.

"But Marcel, I'm not just gonna let you sit there alone! I-"

"Please? Do it for me?" I interrupt.

Dakota just sighs. "Fine." We enter the art class, and three of the Populars immediately rush over to Dakota. The "Regina George" of the group, Brooklyn, gives me a dirty look, and turns her attention back to Dakota.

I head over to my usual seat, in the back corner of the classroom. And grab my sketch pad, and sketch some random lines, trying to figure out what it's supposed to be.