Phil's POV
Phil was tired.
He was tired, and he was excited, and that was never a good mixture with him.
He was in Manchester, ready to begin in a new school, with new people, new rules, and new ways to be as happy as possible...
Or at least, that's what he hoped for. Realistically, he knew that the school would probably be a remake of his last one, with a great number of idiots that prefer fighting each other and playing football than actually learning.
Not to say that Phil didn't like football. In fact, he was the best goalie at his primary school. That possibly had to do with the fact that no one else wanted to be goalie, but still!
At least in this school he could wear his own clothes, which meant he could be as brightly coloured as possible, unlike the drab greyness of his last schools uniform.
Phil excitedly hopped (or rolled, really, he kind of did a majestic wiggle, then flopped onto the floor, where he remained for a few moments before getting up) up out of bed, as soon as he heard his mother call for him, her kindly words immediately making his morning better.
"Philip! Get your ass down here right now! If you are late for that bus, I will not hesitate to shove you under it next time it goes by!"
Phil laughed and rolled his eyes at her threat, being used to her extravagant humour.
"Coming Mum!" He yelled back down to her, his eyes immediately brightening at the thoughts of making new friends. Making friends in a new school such as this, would terrify most people, but Phil embraced the idea of it. Although he wasn't extremely popular with the people at his last school, they endured his company, and that was all that mattered to him.
He could make almost anyone smile, and people were attracted to his permanent happy state. He'd actually had quite a few admirers at his last school, but he hadn't noticed, thinking that no one would ever like him that way.
After all, he was just Phil.
Seeing as it was almost time his bus would be coning around however, he quickly grabbed some clothes and hurriedly got dressed, flattening down his poofy mane that he called hair.
He was wearing black skinny jeans, lilac converse and a pale pink jumper, and decided to top it all off with a flower crown.With a bright smile on his face, he grabbed his bag (baby blue with lots of Pokémon badges) and ran out the door, hurrying to catch his bus so he could start his day slightly better than he had hoped.
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The Hardest Part Of This
ФанфикPhil is pastel. Or, at least that's how he's described. Flower crowns forever, bright converse, and pastel hoodies, he's a generally happy and optimistic person. He is at least acquaintances with most people who know him, and is well liked by all. H...