🌻𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛🌻 (DreamNotFound)

᪥︎𝚘𝚗𝚎᪥︎

Rose girls in glass vases.
Perfect bodies,
Perfect faces.
They all belong in magazines.

George was never a popular kid since he moved to Florida all the way from his home in London. After his Dad's death when he was nine, he and his mom had no way to gain enough income to stay living there.

George always struggled with what his mind wanted growing up. Very faintly he had memories of coming home from primary school and telling his dad how he though the boy next to him looked pretty.

His dad always gave him dirty looks after that. George and his dad were close nonetheless. One thing was that his dad always wore this blue hoodie that George got him for his birthday.

Seven year old George remembered that day and the smile on his Dad's face.

He also remembered on his ninth birthday the call him mom got. How she started crying at his birthday party and his friends had to leave early.

That day they had to visit the hospital. His mom just kept saying he got sick and he would have to be at the doctor for a while. George was confused as to why his dad's car never showed up in the driveway again, nor did his dad ever come home from the doctor.

Without his dad, George's world felt terrible. His mom could no longer support them and they lived paycheck to paycheck, going days without eating.

One day George's mom told him to pack  his things.

"Where are we going mum?" George asked, his brown eyes clouded with confusion. "We're going to stay with some of my friends in Florida."

"Florida?" George asked, tilting his head. His mom smiled softly and pulled him into a hug. "It's a place a bit far from here. Don't worry, we'll be okay. In Florida you'll have friends, a bigger room, and you'll get dinner every night."

"Oh. Okay mum!" George smiled widely.

Looking back on the memory always tugged at his heart.

Starting into fifth grade George immediately was picked on for his scrawny size and looks. His accent helped his case none and he always got called rude things by the bigger kids.

However though, George found a new boy that looked pretty. The pretty boy had blonde hair, a green hoodie, and a white mask with a funny smile drawn on it. The boy's pretty smile peeked from under it, along with a few freckles. When the boy rolled up his sleeves, he had more freckles dusting his arms, which only made he more pretty to George.

If only he wasn't so mean.

᪥︎🌻᪥︎

George looked up from his locker as the normal cheering and hitting the lockers rhythmatically sounded the halls. He pulled his pale blue hood over his head and kept his head down.

That was the signal that Clay and his group were walking down the halls. The popular kids. The kids everyone wanted to be and be with.

Except George. He didn't want to be popular if he had to be a jerk. Besides, he would never be good enough them. He told himself that.

Trigger warning:
His empty stomach said how much he was trying to be like them though. They were all so thin. How could he ever fit in though? No matter how much he never ate it always made him feel worse about the way he looked. Ok

George was a scrawny boy. His family grew up in poverty. Everything was always a struggle to earn and when they did get it, it was always second hand.

Trigger warning:
He had so much stress needing to be relieved and no one to talk to. That's why he wears his dad's hoodie. To hide his pale scars that litter his arms. Ok

Who would care though? The kids here all hated him, the counselors were assholes, and the principal didn't give a shit about anything.

George closed his locker and sighed as the group passed. The noise calmed down and George tensed up, knowing what came next. Normally it was Jackson walking down the hall and smacking the back of his head to call him the f slur.

But George was relieved only a ball of paper hit the back of his head. Pretty calm compared to other things that has happened to him.

However he quickly held his hands in front of his face and a loud crash slammed his locker shut.

George weakly held his hands up, trying to block out anything. "Fuck off dude. I'm just tryna get to my locker." An unfamiliar voice sounded. There was a grumble from the person that got shoved.

The voice spoke again. "Hey kid, you alright?" George moved his hands and saw a raven haired boy, looking about a few years younger than George. Obviously a freshman.

"I..." George stuttered, scared of his own voice. The boy stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm Nick." He smiled.

Nick had neck length black hair, a bit of beard stubble forming, brown eyes dark enough to look black, a gray shirt, and a thin headband tied around his head.

Nick tilted his head a bit. "Guessing you're the outcast here, huh?" Nick asked, not really expecting an answer. When he didn't get one he sighed. "Look, I just need help finding my locker." George nodded and reached for the paper until the intercom sounded.

"All new students report to the office."

The kid pulled his paper back. "Catch you later, kid." Nick said before rushing off. From what he's heard there's four new kids that transfered this year.

Good going George you ruined your chance. The brown haired boy closed his eyes, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He adjusted his sunglasses before sighing.

George grabbed his things and made his way to his first class. Upon entering he saw them. The popular girls. As in, Clay's main girls he hung around with.

George seemed to stop in his tracks to stare, because he was shoved from behind.

"Move it short stack." Jackson. Jackson and Clay walked past George like he was nothing. George saw the group of girls laughing. George quickly made it to his desk. Did he forget to mention his little crush on the kid with the mask?

The boy more specifically.

Clay.

George's heart shattered as the blonde male put his arm around one of the girls next to him. His girlfriend for the week, George guessed. He sat down and gently set down his books, hanging his head to let his hood block his view of everything and everyone.

"George. No hoods or sunglasses in class. Take them off." The math teacher called out. Please don't make me. George thought. He didn't budge. Showing off a black eye probably wasn't best.

"George don't make me call the principal down." The teacher repeated.

George glanced around the class as all eyes were on him.

"George."

He pulled off his hood reluctantly and carefully took off the sunglasses. There were a few snickers directed at him and his teary eyed self.

One gaze however had the biggest heartbreak looking at the sight and didn't know why.

George sniffled and wiped his nose as the teacher started the lesson. His eye was throbbing as tears escaped the damaged tissue.

George had me the mistake of accidentally speed running down the halls and bumping into Jackson, quickly receiving a punch to the face, Jackson's fist colliding with his sensitive eye.

George tried his hardest to pay attention but just couldn't bring himself to.