Verisimilitude

1 Manipulation

Marks shoes hit the school floor with no sound, his breath was so quiet it seemed almost non-exisiting. Students didn't give the outcast a second look, no caring about that of his existence.

Soft piano music flowed through his ear phones, blocking out the voice of others around him. He strode with purpose and strength, although he appeared to be nothing more then another high school student.
Mark soon came across his locker and began to pile his things inside, his books and his laptop remained in his bag to use in class.

The red haired man zipped his bag up and glanced up to close his locker, however, he hesitated. A soft glow of stainless steel gleamed in his locker, the metal polished and new. A small object, but a powerful one at that.
Mark sighed, averting his eyes from such a thing, over to smaller object. A brother to the other in way, similar to the larger object.

Mark reached inside and took the smaller object, shoving it in his pocket.
A pocket knife, for safety, not that it would do much help against the enemy's he had.

Mark closed his locker, the a small click came from his lock as he clicked it closed. The boy went to turn towards his class, only to be met with light eyes.

They held unsure intentions, nervous and flickering, however a strong back plate held inside them. Vibrant green hair stuck out on top his head, bouncy but durable.

" Could you help me find my class?" The rough Irish voice asked.

Mark stood frozen for a few seconds, not used to people speaking to him. The boy reached into his pocket while eyeing the fellow student, the feeling of sharp metal grazed his fingertips, he contemplated what to do.

" What class do you have?" Mark questioned, taking his hand of his knife.

The smaller student forced a smile, one that could be seen as fake, however the taller boy elected to ignore it.

" Psychology A" The Irishman spoke.

The two shared a second of eye contact, both frozen in place, both for different reasons.

You're hiding something

" I have that class as well" Mark spoke slowly, eyeing the boy once again.

Mark reached into his pocket before gesturing for the other to follow him, the boys hand tightly wrapping around his knife once again. His thumb hovering over the button that would release the blade.

" What's your name?" Mark asked, averting his gaze from the other as they walked.

The green haired boy yet again forced another smile and glanced up at Mark.

" Call me Jack" he said, returning his gaze to his feet.

The two made their way to class in silence, Mark noticed the worried glances from a few students. All directed at Jack. He wondered what the boy had done to inspire fear in the eyes of others.

The two walked side by side, passing the popular kids, the outcasts, the nerds, then...the rebel's.

The face of Dan Howell came into view, his lip piercing pulling up with his lip in disgust, his eyeliner thick as he narrowed his eyes. The student crossed his arms in front of him, his eyes landing on Jack.

Standing beside Dan was Phil, a smaller boy, always smiling and being nice. The opposite of Dan. Dan was strong and wise, a punk with a purpose. Phil was not as strong and not as wise, always jumping into situations without checking the water, especially if anyone was to disrespect Dan. In which case Phil was not to be underestimated.