Birthmarks and Bruises

Cliche Intro to the Protagonist

Felix. How does someone explain Felix? I suppose describing his own matted, fiery red hair and face peppered with freckles is a start. His piercing green eyes and feminine face shape were easily distinguishable, as well as the dark, tear-shaped birthmark in the middle of his forehead. Strangers passing by would always mistake him for a girl.

"Excuse me, miss, you dropped your money."

"Oh? This is your daughter? She is beautiful! Looks just like you, Maria."

Of course, there was teasing. Nothing extreme, sure- but like anything someone has had to deal with all their life, the persistent comments get annoying after a while.

"Oh, Felix? What are you doing in the boys changing rooms, hmm? God damn pervert."

"What's that blob on your massive forehead? Might wanna wipe that dirt off. Need a tissue?"

Not overdone at all. Completely original.

Though, feminine as he was, Felix never really seemed to care. He never took it to heart. Always ploughing on with a genuine smile, Felix was brought up to realise that people will, when bored, take the piss any chance they get. So, naturally, he turned a blind eye to it all, and encouraged others to do the same. Though, this did ultimately lead to more teasing considering the childish and cruel mindset of his peers.

It was the holidays, where the students had lost track of the weeks, not having to carry out the tiresome task of scribbling the date every day into their exercise books. It could've been Monday, Saturday- it didn't matter. It was a late October afternoon, and he was calming himself down- mug of hot tea clasped in his hand, earphones stuffed in his ears, enjoying his 'guilty pleasure' of practising calligraphy. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. It just subtracted from the stereotypical definition of manly just that tiny bit more.

So, like everything else, he kept it to himself. No one really needed to know about it anyway, it was an unimportant skill he practised only for his own benefit. Sometimes Felix half wished he'd got into something else, but calligraphy somewhat suited him. Finishing with the last flick of ink snaking around the "H", he cracked his knuckles and nodded in satisfaction at his work.

"Faith".

Ah, how cheesy. And Oh So Fitting.

Wiping his brow and smudging a generous, slick layer of ink over his forehead, Felix prepared to settle down for the night. He took a quick glance at his bedroom wall.

"Love."
"Wonder."
"Hope."
"Joy."
"Passion."
"Belief."
And now...
"Faith."

It was like one big spreadsheet of sappy Year-4 Poetry.

Nevertheless, he enjoyed it. If only he could share it, he thought, he may even be able to make a little money from it. Maybe. It was certainly a passion, anyway- and he was constantly praised for his loopy handwriting. The swirls and swoops of the ink, ranging from black to neon yellow, danced over his walls like a melody of cheer and encouragement.

Felix was always a little ball of sunshine. It wasn't a surprise considering his perfect home life, the fact he picked his fights and never got into drama, the fact he studied and listened in class. Despite only really having one good friend, his social life wasn't a complete disaster either compared to most of the other students. Felix... genuinely enjoyed each day and looked forward to the next. Despite his differences, he felt alright. He was rational most of the time. Managed to find a solution to other's problems as well as his own, getting out of trouble in the most efficient way possible.

Felix enjoyed being Felix.