I'll Be Okay (Mayday Parade Fanfiction)

Muse

By the time the bell had rung, I was too spaced out to realize it. I was daydreaming once again. My eyes began to regain focus as I saw the other students rushing out of the classroom.

"Hey, wouldn't happen to know where Mrs. Harold's art class is would you?" Derek smiles, smoothing down the back if his hair. His hair was longer than the average guy's. It suits Derek. His fringe covers the right amount of him face that make his facial features more prominent.

"Yeah, I have that class next. Although I don't know why you'd expect me to know. It is the first day of school after all."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you Val. Haha. You're funny. I figured you had gone to this school last year or so."

He walks next to me, following me to class. I can feel the eyes of people looking at me. They never paid any mind to me and now that Derek is with me they want to stare. Fun.

We arrive at art class soon enough and Derek sits down next to me. We can sit where ever we please in this class. Which means that I sit alone. No one ever bothers to sit next to me, let alone talk to me.

"We pretty much do whatever kind of art we please here." I say looking down at my blank piece of paper. Derek had just talked to Mrs. Harold and she told him the basics, but he just sat there watching me.

"What are you working on?" he asks innocently. He smiles and the corner of his mouth raises making it lopsided. And what a wonderful kind of lopsided.

"Nothing. I have nothing to draw. I never do."

"No inspiration? No muse?"

"Ha. Nope."

"How do you not have one? You need to find your muse. Everyone needs something or someone they can turn into something creative."

"And do you have a muse, Derek?" I say sarcastically.

"Well, my muse is love. I write a lot of poetry and songs sort to speak and I write them about love or heartbreak and everything in between."

"Wow. I envy you."

"You shouldn't. You should find something that brings out your potential." He smiles again and I find myself smiling back.

Derek grabs a piece of paper and a pencil and starts to sketch and for the rest of the class he works intently, he works on something I can't quite make out.

When the bell rings I find myself looking at an empty paper just like every other day. Derek shoves his work into his bag, not allowing me to see.

We walk together down the stairs towards our next classes. We get about four steps down before I slip and tumble down the rest of the way.