forgotten | sidemen

2

C H A P T E R - T W O

a/n: If words are written in this, they're the characters thoughts.

If they're written in this, they're in italics for emphasis.

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Simon resented transferring schools; it was the fifth time in the past two years. He hated being the new kid, seeing all of the fake faces pretending to be nice to you, or pitying you when you're too anxious to socialize. He resented everything to do with it, even JJ, who was already attending the new school. He knew he shouldn't rely on JJ for safety; JJ would leave him behind if it meant his school rank had purpose. It was the same fucking thing every student did, they'd grasp onto popularity for the chance to "fit in," the chance to not feel meaningless, instead of forming real friendships. He resented his father for forcing the family to move yet again. Every time they moved to a new city, his father promised the same thing: "This will be the last time we move. I promise you Si." He had heard the word 'promise' so many times, it became another meaningless word, another meaningless phrase spoken to him. There's that word again, meaningless. In Simon's eyes, school was meaningless, his previous friendships were meaningless, promises were meaningless.

Everything was meaningless in Simon's eyes.

If there was one thing that Simon resented the most, it was the school's social ranks. He didn't want a placing within the students as he was trying to ace his A-levels to benefit his future. It's not like the rank would matter in a few years' time. He would be gone from the glaring eyes, the fake smiles and forced friendships. So, what's the point in caring about the social ladder? He wanted to be free from the "chosen" friendships; he wanted to make friends himself. He wanted friends who shared the same interests as him. He wanted friends who he could joke around with. He wanted friends who cared. All he wanted was friends who he truly liked being around. However, he knew that he had to keep his mouth shut. After all, Simon was the new kid. Who likes a new student who messes up the seemingly perfect routine within the school corridors? He knew that he had to silently walk among the raging desolation, forcing himself to be quiet and handle what the other students threw his way.

Other than being friends with the Jocks; he rather be dead than join them.

When Simon was walking through the school corridors, his anxiety grew. It wrapped around his heart, his lungs, his brain. Anything his anxiety could attack, it would. He had trouble with social anxiety, and although he was normally fine in a school environment, masses of students was something that Simon would rather avoid. But he couldn't; the school his mother had kindly enrolled him into was bigger than all of the others. It had double the students, and the double the students equals doubles the anxiety for the blonde. He knew how to calm himself down in these situations, but with the new area, it wasn't working. Simon didn't care if he looked like an idiot, muttering "Breathe, just fucking breathe" over a dozen times, but he couldn't care less. Nothing was working anymore; clearly convincing himself that he was fine wouldn't work in this state of mind.

Simon finally made it to the hallway of the school office, but his body froze, refusing to let him go any further. While trying to calm himself down, his anxiety grew even more, until it overtook his body. His hands were uncontrollably shaking, why were they shaking?

Realization dawned his features. He knew what was happening; Simon was having a panic attack.

No no no no no no, not now.

His heart was pounding in his chest. The walls seemed as if they were closing in on him. His breathing was laboured and short. He began to hyperventilate. He wanted to throw up. Sweat was forming on his forehead. He wanted to scream and cry, but his mouth was screwed shut. The shaking wouldn't stop. He felt glued to the floor. He felt like he couldn't move. The strong feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. He couldn't think. His head pounded. He wanted to beg for help. He wanted to run away. He felt truly helpless. He felt constricted. The fear and nervousness was consuming him.