Chapter Text
The alarm went off.
Here we go again, another day of pure boredom.
I got up from the bed.
I looked across the room and into the mirror.
My name is Coriola. I am 15. Because I have short black hair and a fierce frown, you may think I'm a gay emo. Please don't assume that, because then you'd be on the receiving end of my glare.
I am neither gay nor emo. I am simply this way because I am.
...Okay, I may be a little emo. But don't stereotype me. I have no time to be depressed. I am alive and I'm here to enjoy that life. The reason why I look so emo-like? Well, that's my secret.
I had smushed sunny-side-up eggs for breakfast.
Perfectly matching my mood.
The bus came.
I hurriedly jammed the eggs in my mouth. "Bye, mom."
"Goodbye dear, be careful." She said worriedly. She has been extremely worried now that I look so emo. I had to reassure her that I wasn't doing...ahem..anything bad.
I bounded onto the bus. "Good morning," I said to the bus driver.
"Good morning." He responded.
You may wonder why I am so cheerful. Technically, I have many personalities. My ultimate goal is to break stereotypes. If someone thought emos are dumb, I'll prove them wrong.
If they think girls are weak, I'll be strong.
If they think that I'm supposed to be a bully, I'll be a saint.
I enjoy confusing people. Which is probably why I have zero friends.
Fact is, I don't care if I have friends. It's fun to be alone.
I sat in the first seat, the one behind the driver. This way I could unnerve everyone who got on. The bus was empty. No kidding, I was the first one to get on.
At the next stop, I stared at all the students as they got on. They all sat in the back, as far away from the creepy girl as possible. Creepy girl meaning me.
But I don't mind. The status of being the creepy girl is very amusing.
You get to creep people out for example. And everyone avoids you so you can get peace and quiet. And you don't have to share your seat with anyone.
It's the perfect life if you are content to be alone.
"Jane! Jane! Go out with me! Please? I love you! Jane! Jane! Jane!"
I opened my eyes in annoyance as my music player was interrupted by the commotion outside.
A gorgeous girl got on the bus. She had brown hair and brown eyes. She only wore a T-shirt and jeans, but she had the air of a princess. She glanced at me curiously, a punk girl reading lyrics from a pop CD, and sat behind me.
Here's what I know about Jane Liliac:
She comes from a rich family of Liliac, her reasons for attending a public school instead of a private school were unknown.
She is the most popular girl in Velantry High, the head of the exclusive clique of The Sirens. No matter what she wears, even with no makeup, she still looks fabulous. Heck, even if she wears a froggy suit, she'll manage to look divine.
She has achieved infinite popularity. No matter what she does, she'll always be popular. One time she punched a boy in the stomach. When she did that, the poor boy sat down with tears of joy, happiness, and awe, saying that Jane punched him.
It's like the goddess of Aphrodite reincarnated into her.
I pulled my thoughts away from her as one of my favorite songs came on.
I spent the rest of the ride bobbing my head up and down to the music.
We got off the bus in a rush. I narrowly managed to not get smushed.
"Make way! Jane Liliac coming through!" yelled one of her groupies. And as if by magic, the crowd parted and Jane got off the bus without difficulty.
I rolled my eyes. I couldn't care less about the way she exited, but it just pissed me off the way she suddenly became a princess, no, a goddess of this school.
I calmed myself down. I don't care... I don't care... I don't care... That had become my mantra.
I continued the school day without any incidents.
Thank god, I thought, as I put my earphones on. I cannot live without my earphones. It blocks out all the useless things in life, like the fact that the old yellow bus made a continuous moaning sound. I turned on my iPod and my favorite band Crystal Clear played their hit single, "Sidewalk Chalk".
"I take a piece of chalk and I walk down to the sidewalk. I hear them talk about all those things that are not worth listening to. Must I listen, must I pretend, must I lie to whatever you said? I don't want to talk so I'll use this chalk on this blank sidewalk..."
Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned around to find Jane looking at me.
"Is that Crystal Clear?" She asked.
"What's she doing, talking to Jane?" People whispered fiercely.
I frowned. I wasn't talking to her, she was talking to me, but it was useless to argue with the worshippers when it concerned Jane.
"Yeah, it's Crystal Clear! Have you heard them sing? It's like totally awesome! I mean, soo much better than Beatmix!" I said, faking enthusiasm of talking to Jane. I hated Beatmix. Most teenage girls like Beatmix simply because the lead singer was hot. I hated him and his love-sick, heart-wrenching, pathetic songs.
The worshippers glared at me.
"I agree," said Jane. Both the worshippers and I blinked. "Crystal Clear's songs are much more meaningful. With Beatmix it's always 'I love you, I love you, don't leave me, I love you,' it gets really sickening." She smiled a sickeningly bright white smile.
The worshippers quickly wrote in their memos "Listen to Crystal Clear".
"I'm Jane Liliac, nice to meet you."
"Coriola."
We shook hands. The worshippers' reactions were mixed: Some were envious of our handshake, some were in awe that I was able to earn a handshake with Jane.
The bus slowed down. "Well, this is my stop. See you tomorrow."
The worshippers gasped. When Jane got off, they started to whisper.
"See you tomorrow, does that mean that Jane and Goth Girl are friends??"
"No that can't be! It must be something else."
I went back to listening to Crystal Clear. Friends, huh? Is that possible?
"This masterpiece I created, it won't stay forever, so you better remember that chalk on that sidewalk..."