Post-Its To My Unknown Lover

She was a loner.
She didn't have any problems, she just didn't see the point in making fake friends.
She didn't talk to anyone, not that she had anxiety she just didn't like looking at plastic faces.
Maybe there were one or two people who didn't decorate their faces, but they already thought she was too weird. So why bother making friends that might stab you in the back? Why not just save yourself the pain?
So she had concealed herself from them, but they thought it was arrogance, depression, or that she had traveled to oblivion and never looked back.

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Meet him. He was your typical guy next door type, but he managed to hold the title of the biggest player at Melancholia High. He didn't have some dark past, a broken heart, or an attention problem. He wasn't a "Bad Boy". He wasn't that rich either. He is a mystery. That thing that makes you curious, skeptical or suspicious. That's what draws the plastic in, and sometimes us higher intellectuals too.

But these two comfort together in the most simplest thing there is, music.

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I know what you're wondering, this is another cliche. But aren't the best ones exactly that?

At last, I present to you awesome wattpad-ers Post-Its To My Unknown Lover!