Marcel: The Wallflower *On Hold*

Chapter One- Let It Whip

Note: There is no One Direction in this story (but it's still a fanfic). This is an AU story.

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Chapter One: Let It Whip

"WHIP ITTTT!"

I bobbed my head enthusiastically to the music. The Pitch Perfect soundtrack has to be the best album of all time, and I was having a hard time doing my homework due to its extreme awesomeness.

"Wanna see you whip it..."

Not able to contain myself anymore, I jumped out of my wheeled desk chair, and let it roll across my room. Holding onto my glasses, I danced wildly to the song.

"Let's see you whip it,"

I swung my arms and did some crazy feet movements. I skipped over to my speakers and turned up the volume, but not too loud, as my mum was downstairs sleeping.

Ah, acapela...

The song was over way too fast, and I threw myself back into my chair, and pulled it back over to my desk. I turned the volume down, and held my breath when I heard footsteps coming down the hall towards my room. My pop was at work, so it had to be-

"Marcel!" Mum yanked the door of my room open and glared at me. Her thin greying hair was in a messy bun, and her clothes hung loosely over her skinny body.

"Mum?" I made an innocent face.

"What was all that ruckus? Don't you know I sleep in the afternoon?" She spat at me, and I chewed on my lip.

"Yes mum, but I don't know what you're talking about," I told her calmly, and placed my hands neatly in my lap. Mum shut her eyes and ran a hand over her hair. She sighed and looked back at me.

"Supper will be ready in an hour. I expect to hear silence up here," She said sternly, and slammed my door shut.

I waited until I couldn't hear her grumbling and footsteps before I turned my music back on, but I kept the volume down this time. I sniffed and shoved my glasses up the bridge of my nose. Calculus, Polynesian History, Advanced Latin, and Bio-Physics (a/n: just made that up..)... I was slammed with school work. I picked up my pencil and chewed the end rhythmically as I mulled over the next math problem.

One Hour Later

"MARCELLLL" Mum called from the kitchen, and I bolted from my room, down the hall, and down the stairs. I ran into my pop, Harvey (a/n: yes, that Harvey), on the way to the kitchen.

"Hey, pop," I waved at him as I dashed to the dinner table. He nodded at me, and I turned the corner into the kitchen and was hit by a wave of delicious smell. Mmmm, pot roast, with potatoes and steamed carrots. Mum just finished setting out a plate of rolls and took her place at the table. I grabbed a cloth napkin and tucked it into the collar of my shirt, I also put one on my lap.

"Hey, hon," Pop came over and kissed my mum quickly on the cheek before hanging his coat on the rack by the fridge. He sat down between my mother and I and we quickly loaded our plates with food. I dug into my pot roast and let the juicy meat's flavour soak into my tongue (a/n: sorry for that awful description...) and sighed. I stuffed some potatoes and carrots in my mouth too and chewed.

"So Marcel, how was your day at school?" Pop asked, between bites of his roll. I held up a finger and finished swallowing.

"Good," I bluntly answered, and Pop nodded.

"Those kids treating you right?"

I stared at my plate and bit my lip.

I've never really had any friends at school, I was considered the nerdy geek who obsessed over girly things. Some people were convinced I'm gay, when I'm not. I just portray certain feminine qualities. OK, I guess that makes me appear homosexual. This one group at my school, the super-popular jerks, pick on me a lot, and that's what Pop is referring to.

"They're fine," I said quietly. My mum gave me a prolonged sympathetic look, but then went back to her meat. Pop nodded again.

Before I knew it, my plate was licked clean, and I let out a loud, rumbling burp.

"'Scuse me," I apologized, and pushed my chair away from the table. I set my plate in the sink and threw the napkins in the dirty bin. I padded across the living room and up the stairs and back to my room. The textbooks on my desk looked rather unappealing, so I decided to go on my Twitter page for a little while. 

I'm quite popular on Twitter, and I can be myself online, but some people from school still find me and write mean things. My feed was filled with tweets from all my favorite people, bands, and companies.

onedirection

Hey UK fans! Who's excited for the release of @1DThisIsUs later this month?

Perrie_Edwards

Thinking of all our lovely fans, I appreciate you so much :3 xx

Curlz_Head

I want to take a selfie with every single one of you

Fat_Amy

I'm not lazy, I just have the overpowering will to do nothing

Sexy_Irish_Foodholic

Just woke up, might go back to sleep !

I loved reading tweets from One Direction, one of my favorite bands of all time. Little Mix is amazing too, and I'm definitely a Zerrie shipper. I clicked on my profile and checked the stats for today.

sassyMarcel

50, 783 followers, following 51, 601,254 tweets.

Bio: Marcel, 17, crushing, cute as a button every single one of you :3 . London.

(a/n: Marcel's profile picture to the side!)

Most of my tweets had been retweeted 2,000 times or so, and I had a bunch of mentions.

CaliforniaKisses1

@sassyMarcel What are your opinions on @curlz_head 's tattoos?

sassyMarcel

@CaliforniaKisses1 they're hot :3

Ok, I must admit, I have a bit of a man crush on that guy.

As I scrolled through my mentions, I was laughing hysterically at some of the tweets, one particular one caught my eye and made me cringe.

Leeroy Payne

@sassyMarcel Nice username. What are you, a gay little boy?

No comment.

 I'd had enough Twittering for today, so I shut my laptop and set it on the floor. I lay down on my bed and just stared at the ceiling for a while. Leeroy Payne... I knew who that was. Leeroy James. One of the most popular profiles on Twitter, aside for the celebrities. Great, I thought, another person in my life trying to ruin me.

A train roared by the apartment building, slightly rattling the walls and the AC unit in the window. I shut my eyes and listened to the chugging of it's engine and the whistling of the steam. The movement vibrated my floor, but was oddly soothing.

By the time the train had passed, I was so relaxed, I was soon fast asleep.

~Marcel the Wallflower~

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