Hey so this is how I wish the story of Angel went. A lot of the major events are different so I hope you like it. The inserts at the beginning of each chapter are a different point of view and you have to figure out who it is but I'm sure you can without a problem it's pretty obvious.
He was 11 when his condition developed.
It wasn't a normal condition, so he couldn't go to a normal hospital. Instead he stayed home, locked in his room, hiding from the world.
His condition made him different.
It made him not fit in.
He hated not fitting in. He hated his condition, and, by association, he hated himself. He knew something was wrong with him. Normal people didn't have conditions like this. Normal people were normal.
He wasn't normal.
He had been normal, back before his condition. But now he wasn't. So he hid.
Warren Worthington Ⅲ had been born a prince. Well, not quite. There were no princes in America. But it was the best next thing. His father, Warren Worthington Jr., was the owner of Worthington Industries, so Warren had been raised in paradise. He had everything he'd ever wanted and more. He lived every kids' dream. To sum it up, he was rich.
He went to a private boarding school in his adolescence, and had the best education available. He made friends (or, at least, acquaintances,) and was never lonely. Everyone else there was wealthy, so he wasn't viewed as a snob. He enjoyed others' company, and they enjoyed his. He even had a girlfriend. She was the most beautiful girl in school, and he believed it was true love. (It was, in a way. It was the truest form of adolescent puppy love, but it was not everlasting.)
One day they found themselves alone in a garden. Before he knew what was happening, he leaned in close, closer than he should have, and kissed her on the cheek. She was startled, but excited, and she quickly turned and kissed him back. He melted on the spot, and she mumbled a smiley good-bye before scurrying away.
That night he woke to a horrible itch on his back that he couldn't quite reach. Glancing in a mirror he saw an angry red rash covering his shoulder blades, but he was too in love to care.
The next day the rash was still there. It persisted throughout the week, but he ignored it. His mind wandered, thinking about the kiss. The girl wasn't in school for the rest of the week; she was supposedly out sick. He ignored his back, thinking nothing of it. But the pain slowly escalated until he couldn't stand it any longer.
Friday night rolled around, opening up a weekend of relaxation for the students. Warren was alone in his room, examining his back. His shoulder blades looked unusually… large. They protruded an extra inch from his back. He shrugged it off as swelling from the rash, and expected it to be gone in the next day or so. Rubbing on some soothing ointment (his father had a whole first aid kit delivered to him on the first day of school) he went to bed.
That night Warren tossed and turned. His back was in excruciating pain, and he wasn't used to sleeping on his stomach.
The next morning he was so tired, he missed the tiny feather sticking out of his back…
