Chapter Text
It’s one thing to be just going through his awkward teenaged years. It was something else to be 15, starting high school and the son of the first woman President of the United States.
Leia Organa was practically legend before she got involved in politics herself. She and her brother were the children of one of the country’s most prolific domestic terrorists, and a member of European royalty. She was raised by the Organa family, a political dynasty to rival the Kennedys. DC expected that their adopted daughter would make a meteoric rise, but she suddenly disappeared from her job working in Senator Organa’s office.
She reappeared years later from a successful sting operation that put her own father in prison, and had her return with her well unknown twin brother, a Kansas farmer who would go on to have a promising military career himself. She also returned married to a known drug smuggler Han Solo. The Organa family pulled strings to get Solo a pardon due to part in the capture of Anakin Skywalker.
Everyone knew this. It was the weight that hung around Ren’s neck when he started his new school.
Ren didn’t want to be an Organa. He didn’t want to be a Solo. He barely wanted to be a Skywalker, since his grandfather was the only person in their family Ren could actually stand, and he only got to see him once a month through glass. He’d picked his own name, Kylo Ren. And that was what he wanted to be called.
But his name on the private school roll said ‘Ben Organa-Solo’, like his wishes didn’t even matter. He grit his teeth and tried not to lash out. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been asking to be called Kylo Ren since he was 13. He really couldn’t get teachers to call him Kylo, though. Most would compromise at ‘Ren’, at least.
He just hated the first day of school. He had to correct every teacher at the beginning of each year, and every substitute afterwards. And then sometimes they would never, ever call him what he wanted to be called.
Ren did his best to be quiet over breakfast while baby Rey chattered excitedly about going to the 2nd grade. Ren rolled his eyes, but secretly he was happy for her. She was in her last year at her Primary school and was about to graduate to the Elementary school. He hadn’t gone through the Empire School system. The Empire School covered children from Preschool age until they graduated and headed to university. Rey had been five years old when their mother became President. She’d started her Kindergarten year half way through and no one thought it was weird.
Ren had been thirteen and was suddenly thrust into a junior high where everyone had formed their friend groups long ago. He was also the President’s kid, and the grandson of one of the most hated men in the nation’s history.
Kylo Ren didn’t have friends. The other kids either wanted something from him or they wanted to make fun of him.
The High School started at grade 10. He had three years left and then he could go disappear into the university system.
“It’s gonna be the best year ever, Kylo,” Rey chattered when they get into the limo. Once they’re away from the prying eyes of everyone Ren wraps his arm around her and pulled her close, causing her to giggle. She called him what he wanted to be called.
“You’re gonna have a great time,” Ren said. He tickled her sides, making Rey laugh loudly. Her three little ponybuns bounced as she attempted to squirm out of his arm. Ren’s long hair feel into his eyes and he had to flick his head back to get the brown fluff out of his eyes.
Rey turned around and started trying to tickle him. Ren dropped back and moaned like he was pain.
“Oh, oh no! You got me! You got me!” he called as if he was in some kind of death throes.
“Okay you too,” the secret service agent called. “Buckle up.”
They both grumbled and pulled apart. Rey scooted over to her side of the back seat and Ren sat up. They pulled on their seatbelts. Rey started to chatter again about what she planned to do when she got to school. She was still old enough to be excited about new boxes of crayons and new notebooks with Elsa on them.
Ren listened to her, but he watched the DC traffic go by. He knew that his year was going to be just as bad as the last two had been, but he also couldn’t help but feel a little lifted by Rey’s chatter. He knew hope was useless, but he still felt a little lighter when he got out of the limo and walked Rey to her classroom than he had when he’d gotten in the car.
Ren had promised Rey and his parents that he’d walk his little sister to her classroom. It was how he convinced them not to come. It was always a circus when they came to school. The open house had been a nightmare. He didn’t wanted to deal with that stress again so soon.
Rey’s primary was an older building on the Empire Campus which had been refurbished. The outside looked like Harvard and the inside looked like the Starship Enterprise. It was a slick, beautiful white and blue and Ren couldn’t imagine how anyone could keep a place like that so clean.
Ren held Rey’s hand as she skipped to her ponybuns bounced. She looked adorable in her little girl blazer and skirt. Ren felt terribly fond of Rey in that moment. He didn’t really remember ever being that happy, but he was so grateful that it was a possibility for her.
“Okay Rey, you be a good girl. I’ll come get you once School’s over,” Ren said when he got Rey to her classroom.
“Bye Kylo!” she called and bolted into class like she hadn’t even heard what he’d said.
Ren sighed and turned to head toward his own school. It was further down the campus, and he was early. That was fine. It didn’t matter. It just meant he could get there and claim a seat in the back before anyone else could. Everyone knew the first day was important for picking your seat. Once you sat there it was yours for the rest of the semester.
Ren hunkered down when he had to walk to Empire High. He was in the standard black blazer and grey pressed slacks. They wore red ties with this ensemble, which Ren always felt looked satanic. The first time he said it he’d gotten detention. His detention and “Satan worship” ended up splashed across the gossip rags the next day. Proof that he couldn’t trust anyone at school.
His father had bought him the little upside down black cross he now had on the key chain of his book bag. It was one of the few times in the past years Ren could remember feeling fond of his father. Screw what they thought. Screw whatever kid had snapped the picture and sold the story. Screw all of them.
That had inspired his second key chain, the Linkin Park triangle logo. So what if they hadn’t been cool since the early 2000s?
His grandfather said it was important to be yourself, no matter what anyone else said. And he would know, after all.
Ren trudged into Empire High. Unlike Rey’s school, the inside and outside looked new and sleek. The school made an effort to always look modern. They were always doing some kind of renovation toward that end, anyway.
As soon as Ren walked through the doors and down toward the Sophomore hall he began to have flashbacks to the open house. His mother had actually bothered to come down for open house and walk him around to meet all his teachers.
Ren shut his eyes and took a deep breath, willing the images away. He wasn’t willing to think about that humiliation right now. He needed to be all together to face the rest of the first day.
At least his Uncle Chewie worked here. If Ren got punched like last year, he was pretty certain Uncle Chewie would punch whoever did it.
That thought lifted Ren’s spirits enough as he entered his homeroom. He went and dropped into what would be his seat from now on. He picked one in the back in the middle. He still wanted to see the black board. Not that he’d need it for homeroom, but he was going to be consistent about where he sat this year.
There weren’t many students around yet, but they were beginning to trickle in. Ren wasn’t the only Empire High student who had to drop off younger siblings, after all. Waiting for the day to start was dull, especially when the most Ren could do was sit around and listen to other kids greet each other and brag about their summers.
He normally would pull on his headphones, but he mother insisted for Ren to attempt to follow the rules for the first month of school. That was when they were the strictest. After that they seemed to loosen up a lot. And Uncle Chewie had backed up that opinion.
Ren had mean to pick up a book, but he’d forgotten. He wouldn’t forget for Tuesday. He really was bored. He considered going to his new locker, but he decided against it. He didn’t have any reason to yet and he didn’t want to lose his seat.
They’d been assigned lockers already and anyone who had gone to the open house already got their locker key. Anyone who hadn’t could get their key when they arrived in homeroom. Once Homeroom started they’d get whatever paperwork couldn’t be handed out during open house, which was always a surprising amount.
Ren’s eyes ran over the room’s occupants. He knew all of them from the previous years. He could sit in the back and be left alone, at least.
He’d been told that they got strangers whenever the schools changed. Not many, but a few. The first one walked in and Ren didn’t have to ask to know who she was.
Phasma had been the kind of exploding teeny bopper that popped up sometimes. She sang and acted for the Disney channel and had been known for her adorable blonde curls and pig tails. Ren had watched her show growing up. He’d even had a tiny crush on her. She was as close as he’d ever gotten to being attracted to a girl before or since.
Then everything crashed for her. Ren read the gossip rags about as much as any girl in his school did. He knew about her Drew Berrymore-esq lifestyle, the drugs and parties from a young age. He knew about her having to skip a year of school for rehab. Last he’d heard her grandparents had custody and she had been put in military school.
He guessed that her mother got custody back, because Phasma was at Empire. He didn’t know if she wanted to be back at military school, but he knew she was wearing the male uniform, dog tags instead of a tie, and her hair famous long blonde curls were chopped off in a very male military style cut.
He decided instantly that he liked her. Crush and her Disney character aside, Ren liked anyone who could wear their ‘Fuck You’s on their chest.
She checked the roster for her key and frowned. She looked back out at the lockers and then back at the roster. She reached into the box and drug out an envelope.
“Hey, that’s not your key,” one of the students behind her said.
“I’m 6”3. I’m not taking a bottom locker,” she said flatly.
Ren smirked. He really, really liked her.
She walked past the other students, with a click-click-click. That was when Ren realized she wasn’t wearing uniform shoes for the boys or girls. She was wearing black stilettoes.
“Can you even walk in those things?” Ren asked when she passed him. When Phasma whipped around and glared at him Ren wished, not for the first time, that he was better and controlling his mouth.
Phasma’s glare came with a wide, toothy grin. “You want to see the damage I’ve done to my feet learning to walk in seven inch heels before my boobs grew in?”
“Nope,” Ren said quickly. He got the mental image of what he’d seen from ballerinas who’d taken their shoes off. He knew well enough that he did not want to see.
“Good,” Phasma said, and then dropped into the seat next to his.
Ren didn’t know if it was to piss him off, or if he’d said something she liked. He wasn’t certain which idea made him feel more nervous.
“So, are you really a Satanist?” she asked. Well, that was a surprise, but not exactly surprising. He was definitely was well known as Phasma, though certainly not as well publicized.
“I don’t know,” Ren said. “Are you really a drug addict?”
“Want to see my one year DAA chip?” she asked. She turned her camo book bag around and showed him the little metal hanging off of her bag. It had a hole punched into it, but he recognized it from others he’d seen. DC had a way of turning perfectly sane people into addicts and alcoholics.
“That’s cool,” he said. “That’s hard work.”
“Of course it is,” she said primly and hugged her book bag to her chest.
Ren pulled his bag off the floor and turned it around so she could see his little upside down cross.
“So it’s true?” she asked.
“Nah, but it’s good for show,” Ren said.
Phasma laughed. “Don’t believe everything you read online.”
Something heavy eased in Ren’s chest. Yes, maybe he would have a better year. “You know that you’re going to get in trouble if you keep dressing like that.”
“I know,” she said. “I want to go back to my school.” Her voice was flat. Her hands clenched into fists.
Yeah, her mom probably did get custody back. She was pissed, but Ren knew from that tone that she absolutely did not want to talk about it.
“Is it nice there?” he asked.
“It’s tough, but I like that,” she said with a sharp smile. Ren was pretty certain she could rip someone’s throat out when she smiled like that.
“Ah, good,” Ren said a bit weakly. He glanced at the door in time to do a double take.
A tall redhead walked in. His hair was slicked back and combed down like he had walked out of some movie about Nazis. Ren didn’t recognize him. It was odd too, because Ren always recognized the kids of politicians and the wealthy, even the dignitary’s kids. There were only so many of them. But Ren didn’t know this one.
“The hell is that?” Ren muttered under his breath.
“Brendol Hux Jr,” Phasma said dryly. “He was filling out paperwork the same day I was,” she added.
“Ah, that asshole,” Ren said. He knew about Brendol Hux Sr. The man was a huge ass. His own party had dumped him, but he’d come back as an independent. He was so conservative that he probably really thought that women belonged back in the kitchen. The crazy militia groups absolutely adored him.
“Yeah. Hux!” she shouted across the room. “Grab my key for me, will you?” she called.
Hux’s head shot up. His eyes, cold and very, very blue, fixed on Phasma and the narrowed. Ren wondered for a second if the kid was going to tell her fuck off. To Ren’s surprise he did grab Phasma’s key and walked over to them.
Ren couldn’t help but admire the way he walked. It wasn’t exactly stiff, but it kind of reminded Ren of his uncle. Very military, very fluid. Ren guessed that was what happened when you got raised by an army man. Hux’s uniform was perfectly pressed and fitted and his shoes fucking shone.
“Let me guess, you have mine?” Hux asked dryly. He dropped into the seat in front of Phasma. He tucked his bag in the basket under his desk and then turned around to look at Phasma. Even Hux’s bag was the one sold in the school store. Everything about his appearance was completely up to code. He could be on the pamphlet for Empire High School.
“Of course I do,” she said. “I’m taller than you,” she said.
“What part of six feet seems short to you?” Hux asked.
“What part of 6”3 seems shorter than 6”0 to you?” Phasma asked dryly.
Hux shrugged. “Maybe it would be easier if you weren’t wearing heels quiet that high.”
“Maybe it would be easier if they didn’t insist on putting half the lockers on the floor,” Ren said. He sort of surprised himself at saying it. It seemed to surprise Hux too, who turned to look at him like he was just noticing him for the first time.
Ren wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t a true stand out like Phasma or even Hux. Yeah, he was tall, but he was also just like any other teen, just with a big nose.
“You look familiar, who are you?” Hux demanded.
“The President’s son,” Phasma said. “Ben Organa-Solo”
Ren felt the annoyed tick in his face. “Don’t call me that,” he said between his teeth.
“We’re not going to bow down and call you Mr President’s Son,” Hux said. It was his turn to make use of the dry tone. Ren shoved down a wish to punch Hux in his perfect little face.
“Kylo Ren,” he said. “That’s what I want to be called.”
They both stared at him for a minute. Finally Phasma shrugged and sat back in her seat. “It’s not any weirder than our names.”
“Agreed,” Hux said. “You prefer Kylo?”
Ren let out a breath. “Yes, I do.”
“I prefer Hux,” Hux said. He extended his hand.
Ren found himself looking at the hand for a minute. It occurred to him that it was very strange for him to be touching anyone at all, especially another student. He stared for probably too long before he reached out and accepted Hux’s hand and shook it. Luckily Hux nor Phasma said anything about it.
“Good to meet you,” Ren said.
“You too,” Hux said. He suddenly smiled wickedly. “Want to cause a scandal?”
“Always,” Ren said. “You have a plan?”
“Not yet,” Hux said. “I’ll tell you when I have an idea.”
Ren was about to say something, but Hux turned around. Like some sixth sense he seemed to know that the teacher was about to stand up and address the class. Because he turned around only seconds before their homeroom teacher came in.
Ren tuned out most of the teacher’s talk. It was just about paperwork that had to be filled out and rules they had to adhere to. The speech had been the same since he’d arrived at this school system. He knew it without having to listen. He accepted the papers he was given and put them into one of his folders before dropping said folder back into his bag.
He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Phasma and Hux. Ren knew what it was like to be the outsider. He still was. He wished he had the gall to dress like Phasma or to go all the way perfect like Hux seemed to. And yet both of them seemed to get along. And they both spoke to him. Ren didn’t know if it was a fluke or not, but he wasn’t going to let himself really hope.
Ren was surprised at lunch that first day when Phasma had grabbed Ren’s arm and dragged him over to a table where Hux was already seated. He didn’t see anyone else around them. He didn’t even know how Phasma found him. He didn’t really stand out.
Well, Ren thought he didn’t. People knew what he looked like. They knew his floppy brown hair and his too big nose. They knew to leave him alone. While he tried to disappear he knew people watched him all the time. His family drama sold papers. His isolation made it online. He had pictures of himself sitting alone at a table at lunch from when he was a kid, all the way up, every year. It was like the world had nothing better to do.
But he still didn’t think of himself as stand out enough for Phasma to come find him. After all, she was an international pop star, supposedly. As soon as the rest of the class realized who she was, they had been buzzing around her nonstop. She seemed like some untouchable god figure. She’d been swept away in a sea of admirers when the bell rung for the next class.
Hux had been swept away too, but Ren hadn’t thought a lot about it. It was normal for him. He was used to the transient nature of school friendships. He remembered being back at his old schools, when he had people he’d be friends with every year, but as soon as the summer came and they swapped classes that friendships fell away. There was no such thing as friends forever. And at Empire there was barely such a thing as friends.
Hux wanted to talk to Phasma. Ren had been incidental.
And then Phasma dragged him over to the table with Hux. Ren didn’t understand it.
Hux looked as perfectly pressed as someone on a school poster and not one hair was out of place. His clothes didn’t even look lived in. Ren had no clue how that was even possible.
Phasma threw her arm over Ren’s shoulders, which shocked him out of his thoughts.
“What?” he asked, wondering if they’d said something and he just hadn’t been listening.
“Hux worked out an absolutely brilliant plan in history,” Phasma said.
“How brilliant?” Ren asked, narrowing his eyes a bit. Hux was smirking and Ren found that he both did and did not like that.
“We should date,” Hux said.
“Um… what?” Ren asked in a slightly strangled voice. He did his absolute best to not have other people know about his sexuality. Sure, his family knew, and uncle Chewie, but only them. Uncle Luke was the only person who’d guessed, and that’s only because he could finally come out himself recently.
He didn’t want people to know. He didn’t want to be a headline for this. He didn’t want his first kiss all over the news blogs.
“I’m gay,” Hux said in a flat tone. “Not that my father would ever accept it, but wouldn’t it be a fucking scandal? The right wing senator’s son dating the president’s boy?”
“I don’t…” Ren felt his face heat up. Even his ears felt hot. He itched to cover his face. He gripped his hands into fists to keep from doing just that. “What makes you think that I’d want to do this?”
“You always look so miserable in your pictures. I thought you’d enjoy causing your parents trouble,” Hux said.
“Yes, but this means everyone is going to think I’m gay too,” Ren said flatly.
“That’s my part,” Phasma said. “After you two ‘break up’, I’ll date you.”
Ren blinked. He turned to look at her. She was, without even really trying, the coolest thing to have ever walked through the halls of this school. And he absolutely was not. It would give him an out. He could always say that he was trying to piss of his parents, which would be true. And then who would be that surprised if he did come out later?
“Come on,” Hux said, leaning forward. “Don’t you want to be in control of your own press for once?”
He did. He really did. Looking at Phasma made Ren realize that was why she’d agreed to this to begin with. They had no control. The people they were related to meant they were all in the spotlight to some degree. And none of them had any real control. They still had to do what their families wanted. None of them were happy with that. They all wanted a chance to have some say in what people say about them.
“Okay,” Ren said. “You have a deal.”
“Great,” Phasma said with a wide, toothy smile. “So Hux, how do we begin?”
“Ren will have the first move,” Hux said. “We have to build a story.”
“The President’s loner son gets friends,” Ren said. He could already see the blog headlines. He started to unpack his lunch. “My mother will be gleeful to have you both over.”
“So what, we get a dinner invite or something?” Phasma asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Ren said. “Are your parents going to want to come too?”
Hux snorted. “Of course, are you kidding?”
“Mom will love it, but only if I tell her,” Phasma said, a dark look in her eyes.
“I’ll take care of it,” Ren said. Then he hesitated. He was used to being used. “Do you want your families to come over?”
“They don’t have to,” Hux said. “But I think it will be all the more crushing for my father to have dined at the White House and then it turns out I’m dating the President’s son.”
Ren nodded. Yes, Hux was using him. And Phasma too. But Ren was using them too. This was a mutual understanding. He could live with that. It was honest anyway.
“I’ll make it happen,” Ren promised.
“Excellent,” Hux said.
“How does Wednesday sound?” Ren asked. It was only two days away, and it was family dinner night. His mother was assured to be there. It would be better that way.
“And what about the rest?” Phasma asked.
“We can work that out in my room,” Ren said. “No extra ears that way.”
“Sounds good, Kylo,” Hux said.
Ren felt like something in his breast suddenly became warm. Hux said his name, remembered what Ren wanted to be called and didn’t say it in a mocking way. Hux said it the way Rey said it: like it was Ren’s name.
Maybe Rey had been right after all. Maybe this year would be good.