Prologue

School is boring. Ok, that's not something you never heard or never said at least once in your life. Everyone says it and thinks about it. That's why I am not that enthusiastic about going to school today. A new school on top of it, in a new town and in a whole new country. Though, isn't it?

Oh, it seems that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Vladimir Lupei, I am 16 years old and I am Romanian. I am not tall, but not small either, you could say I am the average teen boy. My hair is strawberry blonde in the summer and almost brown in the winter. Red sea surrounds my pupils, and most of my ex-classmates thought that was strange. My skin is pale, maybe too pale for someone who's supposed to be alive, but that's how it is. I look slim, but actually have some muscles, not too noticeable at first sight, but they exist. One thing I can say and that is that I move around a lot, so I never get to have friends.

That day was rainy, cold and some would say gloomy, but it didn't bother me. I kind of liked 'gloomy' weather, because sun was shining way too bright, especially in my homeland. But here, in England, there was a whole different story, temperatures were cooler here than in Romania or so I heard. I wasn't fully sure of it, since I had moved only a month ago.

It was September 1st. The first day of school. The day when the nightmares unleash themselves from their dark closets. The beginning and also the end. I never liked school. And I knew I wasn't the only one who thought like that. But why? What makes school to be so boring, so hated. I've changed schools so many times I can't even count them.

At first I thought it was because of the whole idea of studying and for some, it sure was this way. But not for me. I liked studying, without being a nerd, not that the others believed me anyway. Maybe it was because of the teachers, but that would be dumb, right? There are nice teachers, but still I never felt like going to my classes. There was one thing left. It was the classmates. Or at least that was my reason. I moved around a lot and never had friends. Also, I have never found anyone worth trying to befriend. To me, they looked the same. They played the same games, watched the same movies, listened to the same musicians. They dressed alike and their hair was alike. They had no personality, no hobbies (excluding TV with the 5 o'clock news, going out, eating seeds like there was no tomorrow) and they didn't tolerate anyone who was different. So I was bullied. Or ignored. But never understood. In their eyes, I was an alien, a freak. I like rock, while they didn't, they listened only "manele"*, a genre of music so pathetic it makes my ears bleed. You wouldn't want to listen to it either, amice**! But I'll tell you about my past later, because now I have bigger problems.

Clover. An amazing city in an amazing country. At least that's how it seems. It's clean, big and has a lot of interesting buildings. Gorgeous architecture, at least that's what I think. And despite of it being quite big, it has a lot of green space. Actually, St. Andrew, the high-school I will be attending from now on, is on top of a hill and you could reach it by car, but I heard that most of the students prefer to take a walk. No matter what, I will do it because I am a nature-lover or something among the lines.

The road to school is nice so far. I stretch my hand, as if to catch the rain drops that are falling lazily from the sky. The tall trees attenuates the rain and I don't feel like I should keep the umbrella opened, so I close it. The air was fresh and I couldn't feel better...or I would have.

I know I was going to get to my destination soon and I start to feel a bit uneasy. What if they won't like me? What if I get bullied again? I hate this. This fear. I am no coward, no pansy. I inhale deeply and take another step, a firm one just to prove myself I can do it. I can start brand new and maybe I won't get friends, but I will not be hated. I have to do it. To prove myself I am not worthless.

And while I was busy with my thoughts I haven't realised I arrived school. The campus is large, filled with groups of students. They wore no uniform, and I heard the principal didn't want to introduce something like that, because it would ruin one's chance to discover oneself. I don't know about that. I never minded uniform, although sometimes I found it useless because no one actually played by the rules, and those who did, well those were "tocilari" or nerds, in English.

Today I wore a white blouse and black trousers. I had dragged along a trench coat with me in case I would be cold and now it is hanging on my shoulders casually. The plan was simply. I had to look cool, but not as in stand-out, a little elegant and casual. Very casual so that I could be taken as friendly. Also, I have to act like this. Careless, bright, funny and why not...sarcastic! I exercised a lot this summer, making scenarios in my head, or in frond of a mirror.

As far as I know, my classroom should be at the ground floor. I don't quite know how English have their studies. Especially on the first day of a year. In Romania you never had classes on the first day. You meet with your classmates, chat about the summer holiday, then meet the teachers who handed you the books and the timetable. Then you were off to wherever you felt like going. It can be too different, can't it?

I was spacing out, too worried about school and I ended up dumping into someone, tucking that person to the ground. La naiba!*** I looked up, trying to keep my carefree face, but also I knew I looked a bit sorry, or at least I hoped so. The victim, or so to say, was a male but I wasn't sure of it. He had shoulder-length blonde hair, violet eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. He looked a bit scared and uneasy. I stood up quickly and reached my hand so he could grab it, smiling at the same time. His eyes looked unsure up to me for a while then he grabbed my hand.

"I am really, really sorry!" I said as I got him up. He looked around scared. "Look, I didn't mean it..." I started to feel bad, almost like a bully. That's when he actually turned to look at me. He was more surprised than scared now.

"Y-you can see me?" he asked in English but his accent was definitely not English. I threw him a confused gaze.

"Excuse me?" I rose an eyebrow at him. "Am I not supposed to see you? Are you a g-ghost?" I asked mentally slapping myself for stuttering.

"Hah? N-no. It's just..." but he didn't have the time to finish his sentence, because he was interrupted by someone.

"Hiya there, dude!" the other teen said. He had dusty blonde hair with an ahoge sticking up and baby-blue eyes. He was wearing glasses as well, but he was tall, muscular and wore a bomber jacket. Beneath, he had T-shirt or so I thought with the American flag. He had navy blue jeans and a pair of sneakers. "So, what's up?" he asked smiling brightly at me. I stared back at him and smiled as well, and when I was ready to answer him he started laughing. But he wasn't laughing at me and I turned my head to look what was behind me. "Oh, gotta go, dude. Talk to ya later!" and he left me.

"Who was that?" I asked my "victim". He smiled softly, almost sad.

"Alfred F. Jones. Don't worry, he's always been like that," he said scratching his head with his index. "I am Matthew Williams," he introduced himself shyly and he reached his hand over to me.

"I am Vladimir Lupei. Nice to meet you!" I said back and took his hand, shaking it. "And I'm really sorry about earlier," I said smiling like an idiot.

"I'm used to it. They never see me anyway..." his words trailed off, a bit bitter but his smile never left his features.

"So that's why you asked me if I could see you!" it was more like talking to myself but he nodded. "That's just mean!" I said feeling anger building up in me.

"Not really. It's my fault too. Look, it's a long story and we don't have too much time. By the way...what class do you have now?" he asked as he started walking.

"History. You?" I caught up with him taking big playful steps. He turned to look at me.

"The same," and we left together.

The classroom was spacious, had three rows of desks. I liked to seat by the window, and fortunately there was a desk left. I sat down, Matthew on the other row, first desk, the one in the middle. I waved at him from the third seat and he smiled back shyly.

"Is this seat free?" weird accent. My eyes fell on the guy who asked me. He had dark hair and fair skin, green eyes.

"Yup," I said nodding and he sat near me. "I'm Vladimir Lupei!"

"Hmm..?" He turned to face me. "Ah. Aleksander Balakov," No shaking hands, no smile, but a bored look.

"Are you Russian?" I asked out of curiosity, thing which I could never hold back.

"No. Bulgarian," he said not even bothering to look at me.

"Hah! That's cool. I've visited Bulgaria once. It was nice," I said looking at the whiteboard almost daydreaming. "I'm from Romania," I continued.

"I know," he said still not looking at me. That's when I felt like giving up and moving to another desk but that's when the bell rang and the teacher entered quickly after, closing the door.

"Good afternoon, students!" he greeted us and we did greet him in return. He had brown hair and brown eyes and he wore a suit. "My name is Romulus Vargas, for those who don't know and I'll be your history teacher this year," he said.

After that he told us what books we needed and then he started to talk about different eras. I was tapping my desk with a pen thinking about how life must have been a long time ago. I liked story. No, scratch that. I love history and Mr. Vargas seemed fond of it as well, for he was speaking as if he were there and lived for a long time.

The hour passed too quickly. Or so I thought. As soon as the bell rang we gathered our stuff and left the room. I knew I had Art, another thing I loved.

The hallway was large as well, but it was cold and dark, having big windows but that didn't help at all. At least on in that block, because sun never seemed to shine over there. I saw students go and students leave and somehow I felt left out. Did I really belong in there? No. I was a stranger.

"You look lost, mon ami!" someone spoke next to me. I turned to look at the person and our eyes met. "Are you a stranger, perhaps?" he asked cocking his blonde eyebrow at me.

"Yeah," I said softly.

"No worry, zhen. I'll show you around," he told me. I wasn't a linguist but I could bet on anything he was French.

"Are you from France, by any chance?" again. My curiosity was something unstoppable.

"Ohonhonhonhon. Indeed, mon ami! I am from France!" he said grinning at me. What a strange way to laugh!

"Frog, leave the kid alone. Don't you see you scared him with your disgusting frog-face!" finally, British accent. "Don't mind him. He is nust," the Brit said. He was almost as tall as me, maybe a few centimeters taller. He had blonde hair, lime-green eyes and fair skin. Also, he had bushy black eyebrow and he was dressed in a light-brown shirt and black trousers.

"He wasn't scared until you came along," the French guy said slightly annoyed.

"Oh, I bet on my afternoon tea he bloody scared actually!" and they started to argue. I tried to stop them but they didn't even listen to me. And so the mess started. The Brit had his hands around the Frog's neck vise versa. Soon other joined as well. Some of them were telling them to stop, while others cheered on them to go on.

"Oh, what's up, dudes?" that was the Bomber Jacket Guy from earlier, whose name I forgot. He looked at me. "What did Frog do this time? Hmmm...?" he asked me as if I would know. I shrugged and thought maybe it was a common thing between those two. "Oh, Big-Brows, dude, what's goin' on?" he interrupted those two and finally the Brit payed attention to someone.

"He scared the newbie with his disgusting frog-face!" he explained waving his hands like a desperate bird.

"I did not! He'z fantazizing!" the French guy replied furiously.

"The newbie? What newbie?" Bomber Jacket asked looking around as if he were searching for someone. Was he dumb or what?

"I am the newbie!" I said frowning and he laughed. I thought I was careless but that guy was really weird.

"Oh, is that so? That sounds cool. Do you like hamburgers?" Bomber Jacket asked.

"I guess so..." I said. "Why do you ask?" I asked.

"Because I love them,umm..what was your name?" I practically face-palmed. Seeing him looking so bright while being so dumb was actually funny but I was not in the mood for it right then.

"Vladimir Lupei," I introduced myself again. It was true I forgot his name, but I didn't bother to ask him again. Eventually I will remember or if not then..."Nu ştiu."****

The bell rang and we had no choice but go to our classes. I hear the Brit scolding Bomber Jack about skipping classes and the Frog complaining to someone else about how rude some dude called Arthur was. I shrugged. Bomber Jack sounded fine. Maybe I shall call him Jack. Yeah, Jack would do. As for Frog...I don't really understand. Even Jack called him that so maybe that was his name. Kind of silly, but oh well...

At Art I found myself staying next to a strange guy. He had brown hair and a curl on the left side of his head. He was a bit taller than me and he seemed very girly. He had his eyes almost closed the whole time, so I didn't get to look at his eye colour. What an airhead!

"Ciao, my name's Feliciano," he said. I could recognize his accent. He was Italian! What a strange school, there were so many foreigners! I smiled at him not sure if he even saw me and I told him my name.

"Oh, from Romania, I guess?" he said smiling and I nodded, again not sure if he could see me or not. "That sounds incredibile!" He clapped his hands happily. "Do you have pasta there?" he asked and I chuckled. It seemed that everyone was quite weird and obsessed with food.

"Yup. But I bet it can't be compared to the real thing," I laughed.

The rest of the class went smoothly. The teacher told us what materials we should bring and she started talking about Van Gogh, but I wasn't listening. So far, the day was going well. At some point I wondered about Matthew, but then my thoughts flew to another mystery: Aleksander Balakov. He was so uptight and indifferent I thought I was going to be ignored here as well. But my worries died as soon as I met Feliciano. Feliciano was a nice guy, actually. He was 16 as well and he loved painting and such. We talked about Art and about food, especially pasta. Normally I would have been annoyed, but he was so sweet and honest while talking about pasta that I couldn't help and get excited too. One conclusion: Italians are contagious.

I felt bad that we had to part after the end of the class, but he had to meet with some friend of his, someone called Ludwig...I guess. I've always been bad at remembering names. They just didn't remain in my mind if I had no interest in the person.

Third class: Maths. I hate Maths with all my soul and mind. I just don't get numbers. Everything goes by the rules and for me, rules are horrible. And there was this thing that I was left handed and saw things backwards. Especially numbers. I could be thinking about number "64" but when I open my mouth to say it, it turns out "46" and I don't even realise if someone's not correcting me. When I was younger it was even worse, but that's a whole different story...

I dragged my feet across the hall, hunching my back even worse than the hunch back of Notre Dame. My back felt heavy, my whole body did. It was like I was carrying the whole school all alone. Maybe you think I was exaggerating, but that's truly how I felt. For all the Maths haters out there, you should know what I am talking about.

I was at the first floor and luckily I got a window seat. What wasn't lucky at all was that I sat next to Aleksander who was just as frigid as before. Cool! The only seat free was next to him and I didn't want to stay around him. He was just too creepy for me to understand. I gulped as I sat down.

"Hey, do you like Maths?" I asked trying to open a conversation. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. That's who I was, who I am and who I'll be. Green orbs met mine in a rather intense stare. For a couple of moments I thought he wasn't going to answer and I wanted to look away, but he did answer in the end.

"Yes," that was all and he turned to look in the classroom. No question like "what about you?" or "why?". No. I felt completely ignored and somehow I felt the urge to tease him. Bad.

"That explains a lot," I said and scoffed. I didn't like to be mean, but I felt like he wanted me to be.

"What do you mean by that?" he immediately said turning to look at me. He narrowed his eyes dangerously as if saying: "I dare you to say something bad about me and I'll punch you in the face." Suddenly, I felt my lips curling in a grin.

"Oh, nothing..." I said biting my lower lip. "Only that..." I snickered and he glared at me. Mr. Uptight was going to be fun to tease.

"Do you have something against Maths?" he asked frowning, slightly getting his face closer to mine as in a demand. I flashed him another grin, but without showing him my teeth fully.

"And what if I do?" I stuck my tongue out and he backed away, almost disgusted. "What?" I went after him totally forgetting about acting nice and such.

"Go away. You are disgusting," he said trying to pull me away, but that only made me more sadistic.

"Is that so?" I asked gazing intensely at him and he tried to get away from me again. He was on the verge of falling when I caught his arm and dragged him back. He gasped in surprise and I would have done the same. What was wrong with me? Acting all nasty and teasingly with someone I barely knew? "S-sorry!" I said and got up. "I am deeply sorry, Aleksander," I bowed in an apologetic way and he looked at me surprised.

"It's ok, Lupei," he said trying to calm me down.

"Usually I am not acting so rude and mean. I don't know...what's gotten into me," I looked away while saying all that. Somehow I was embarrassed.

"It's fine. Moving to another country and another school must be though. No one can act calm," he said and I looked at him. The same frigid expression. The same icy green eyes. But his tone wasn't glacial like before. It was not friendly either. You could say he was more like indifferent. Or so I thought.

"Yeah, I guess..." and the rest of the time I said nothing but stared at the whiteboard. I had no idea what the teacher said and I didn't even care. My mind was just blank.

After the classed finished I stood up and stretched my back, yawning loudly. Aleksander didn't even move.

"You're not going?" I asked him surprised as I held my stuff.

"Where?"

"You know..to the fourth class," I said.

"It's going to take place in here," he told me as if I was some dumb child. I felt like punching him, but I didn't do it. I left the classroom. I couldn't stand his arrogant attitude. What had I done to be treated like that? I started to wander the halls aimlessly, not caring that I might get lost. That's how I ran into Matthew. Again. But this time I didn't tug him to the ground.

"Hey, Matthew!" I said suddenly feeling better. Aleksander Balakov could go to Hell, for all I cared. He flashed me another shy smile. Why couldn't my desk-mate be as sweet as Matthew or Feliciano? "How was your day?" I asked.

"Just like always," we stopped walking. "I mean, no one even bothered to look at me," I think he felt lonely. I grabbed his shoulders and turned him to look me in the eye.

"Well, that's going to change, 'cuz I am not going to ignore you," I said and at first I thought he was going to wrap his hands around my neck and give me one hell of a hug. But he didn't. He just stood there in front of me smiling brighter than ever. "Come on! Let's go! What class do you have now?"

"English," the reply came quickly and I jumped happily.

"Really? That's so great! I mean, I am having the same," I almost shouted. I was taking big steps and Matthew tried to catch up with me, but he didn't complain. "So, where should we go?" I asked him and he told me he'd show me the way. I didn't even realise where we were going, but as soon as we got to our destination, I felt my blood freezing in my veins and my face falling to the ground. Why, fate? Why do you have to be so cruel? Huh?

"Vladimir, what's wrong?" Matthew asked worried and I sighed shaking my head in disapproval.

"Nothing," I lied. I was in the same classroom as Mr. Uptight was. "Would you like to sit near me?" I asked trying not to peek at the Bulgarian. "We can sit in the middle row if you want," I proposed and I tried not to sound desperate. He nodded and we sat on the second seat since Matthew had a bad eye-sight or at least that's what he said.

Behind us, stood Feliciano and another guy I didn't know, but somehow he resembled the Italian. I turned to look at them. Feliciano gladly hugged me over the desk, thing I found weird but I didn't argue over it. I waved my hand playfully at his desk-mate and he growled at me.

"I'm Vladimir Lupei," I introduced myself not wanting to back down.

"Freak," he said rolling his eyes. I think I looked surprised because Feliciano started to rebuke him about being polite with strangers.

"Forgive him. He's in a bad mood today," Feliciano said and I shrugged as if it was nothing. And it was nothing. I didn't like being called 'freak' by some guy I didn't even know, but somehow, I could tell that he didn't really meant it. He was more like indifferent, whereas Mr. Uptight was cold on a purpose. That's how I felt. Speaking of which, I could feel his glare almost all the time I sat with the others. Maybe I was imagining things, but it felt so real.

"Lovino's never been too polite to anyone, anyway," someone said in an amused voice. I looked up and saw someone rather tall. He had tanned skin, olive eyes and somewhat curly brown hair. He also wore a bright smile on his lips and eyes.

"Shut up, bastard!" Feliciano's friend said punching the tanned guy. "Why would I be polite to an idiot like you?" he asked him, but the other only laughed and ruffled his hair.

"You never change, do you?" somehow, I felt like I shouldn't be there listening their conversation. It felt so private, as if they had known each other for a long, long time, thing I hardly experienced with someone, besides family. "By the way, I am Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. I am 17 years old, but I'll be turning 18 soon," he said smiling at me. Judging his name he was either Spanish or Italian. But I would go for Spanish.

"Vladimir Lupei," I said. "16 years old," somehow I felt so small compared to him. The bell rang and Antonio left the class. I turned my back to Lovino and Feliciano trying to focus on the blank whiteboard, but soon I felt my gaze lingering on Mr. Uptight. He wasn't looking at me, but at the whiteboard, perhaps. No one cared to sit next to him, as he was the only one to be alone in a class of 30. He had a good spot, the second sit, so why hasn't anyone joined him? Did he really had no friends at all?

I couldn't concentrate the whole hour. At some point I stopped starring at him, but my thoughts were still wondering somewhat about him. It was the first day of school, so I didn't even know him. Why was I obsessing myself over someone like him? It was useless and stupid. Why did his attitude bother me so much? It wasn't the first time I was treated like that, I've been through worse. Then what is all about?

I tried to figure out a logical explanation, but I couldn't. Somehow, I ended up being swept up by my past again. I didn't even hear the bell ringing. It was Feliciano who shook me to get up.

Being the first day of school, we hadn't had the full schedule. I was glad to hear that. I don't know how do things go in other English cities, but Clover was amazing so far. I packed up my stuff and waited for Matthew to do so as well. We left the building together talking about bears. Matt loved bears. I didn't quite understand why, but should there be a reason to like something? I don't think so. I liked wolves, for example, but if you ask me why, I can talk to you about them for hour, but I wouldn't actually answer the question.

We went down the hill, not even knowing when the time flew. He had to wait for someone and I left with the first bus that came.

For a first day at a different school, in a new city, I think I did well.

A.N. :*Manele=(from Romanian, fem. sg. manea; pl. manele, the plural form being more common) is a music style from Romania.

**Amice=friend

***Nu ştiu= I don't know.

****La naiba!=To hell! or Fuck!

Well, I hope you will like it. The pairings I have in mind for this fanfic, at least right now, are: UsUk, PrAus, FraNada, SpaMano, GerIta and of course RoBul! 3