Sk8r Boi

"He was a punk, she did ballet…"

Disclaimer: The writer lawfully respects the prodigious work of Tachibana Higuchi.

Author's Note: I was undergoing major writer's block when I suddenly thought of this. I know, I know, it's crazy starting a new story when I still have three ongoing fics, but I simply can't resist. The setting is, obviously, not in Japan, since I don't think dancing is even that popular in some Asian countries. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this story albeit the very OOC condition. Inspired by Avril Lavigne's song, Sk8r Boi.

Tagline:

When you're not good enough for someone… what do you do?

Précis:

Dancing is the only way for the skater to the ballerina's heart.

Chapter 1: Remember the Name

"This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!"

Alice Academy of the Arts, Ballet Studio

"Yes, now, do a penchée, dear… Perfect…and the final relevé… Wonderful."

The brunette curtsied at her ballet instructor with a sweet smile, but eventually faltered when she turned away. Immediately, she untied and shook off her silver ballet slippers with a frown. She's been practicing for five hours straight for almost three months now; she felt determined to get the judges' attention. The silver color was starting to vanish from her shoes with all the straight performances she's been undergoing. If she keeps repeating her schedule, sooner or later her toes would start sticking out from the vamps.

But ballet's her passion; she's resolved to do everything and give up anything for her fervor. She turned down her suitors and declined other courses. Her whole future was set for dancing, and with her mother being the directress of the Academy, she has no problems fulfilling them.

"Nice job today, Mikan dear." Madame Adrienne declared with a sweet smile. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat and tight bun, adorned with a gold barrette. She was tall and was almost flat from bust to down; even so, the ballerina figure was still present despite her age.

"Merci, Madame Adrienne." The petite dancer smiled her thanks; she knew her instructors had high expectations for her.

Because on stage, Mikan Sakura is the ballet dancer.

Alice Academy of the Arts, HH Studio

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to rem—

"STOP! What the hell are you doing?! This isn't High School Freaking Musical!" The maroon-haired man was close to exploding. His class is obviously not doing a good job at all. "Now do the routine fifteen times."

"Aw shit." A honey-colored-haired guy exclaimed from the middle formation. The aggravated man stared at him coldly, and he simply shrugged it off. "Seriously, we've been through this for a million times!"

"Apparently there are some people who still can't grasp the concept." The man replied rather bitterly as he glared daggers at the sandy-haired who was busy checking out the advanced female students. He rubbed his temples as he played the music again. "Bloody bastards."

"Damn hell Kistuneme you are in crappy trouble." A guy with dark hair sniggered at the latter, to whom the first was staring daggers at.

"Hey, Natsume," a blonde called after a bored-looking raven-haired, "heard there's a scholarship offered. Had a go?"

"I don't give a shit about those stuffs." The raven-haired replied rather acrimoniously, "You know that, Ruka."

The blonde shrugged, "C'mon, it's a once-in-a-life-time opportunity. You can get yourself and Aoi out of your hellholes."

"What can a freaking scholarship do, besides make me stay up late thinking of new moves? Go die."

Ruka sighed. It was hard making his best friend do something he resents.

"No talking!" the annoyed instructor bellowed from across the room, where he was busy correcting a couple of beginner's dance steps.

Alice Academy of the Arts, Cafeteria

The cafeteria was bustling with various students from various departments. In the middle of the vast refectory sat a group of ballerina dancers who were glumly staring at their meal: a small bowl of coleslaw.

"Don't you think the cabbage looks extra soggy today?" An emerald-eyed commented rather sarcastically as she raised a damp leafy vegetable from her bowl with a scowl. "Hurray."

The pink-haired frowned along with her. "At least make it presentable." Her topaz eyes gazed forlornly at the donut a girl on the other table was happily munching. She felt her throat go all dry; she hates ballerina diets.

"Hey guys, don't be so down!" someone suddenly said from the head of the table, "Look at the bright side; it's the start of the school year!"

The girl from earlier rolled her emerald eyes. "You're saying that even though you didn't even went through summer."

The pink-haired tore her gaze away from the donut and nodded vigorously. "Don't you even miss summer, Mikan?"

Mikan shook her head and explained in her oh-so-obvious voice. "Come on guys, ballet's my whole life."

"One day you are so going to crave for Paris."

"But I've been to Paris." She said rather perplexedly.

A composed sapphire-eyed raised her eyebrows as she abandoned her waterlogged salad. "Yeah, but you didn't go there for vacation."

"Isn't a recital one?"

"Oh, you're hopeless." She sighed at Mikan's opacity. She then glanced at her wristwatch, and motioned for the other four. "Let's go guys; the afternoon ceremony will start in a few."

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater

"How's the speech going, Mikan?" a blonde man cheerfully asked the frazzled brunette who was profusely writing in a paper. She glared pointedly and menacingly at the asker and said,

"I'm doing oh-so-well, Mr. Narumi. All thanks to you who 'forgot' telling me about this."

Narumi grinned slyly, "Yes, well, excuse me for my carelessness. It won't happen again." He raised his right hand and then saluted.

"There better be no next times." She snarled with a fierce gaze, and then finally returned to her speech. She groaned, "Damn it. Where are your friends when you need them?!" She hastily wrote once again on her paper as she rubbed her temples. For a minute, she forgot the name of their Performing Arts President. Great, she thought, what a perfect time to forget her name.

Hopeless and desperate, she turned to an unknown schoolmate who was sitting ahead of her. She tapped his shoulder, and the guy angrily turned to her with an angry, "Fuck?"

Mikan blinked. How rude of him, she thought, but then remembered that she needed something from this ill-mannered raven-haired. Ignoring his uncouth comment, she continued on her question, "Excuse me, and I'm sorry for disrupting you, but do you know who our Performing Arts President is?"

She didn't know if it was her imagination, but she saw the corners of his lips twitch for a second before replying, "Piggy Matsunoro."

Mikan swore it wasn't, so she asked again, "Are you sure?"

The guy motioned at her insolently, "You ask but you don't believe. Why bother, you stupid little brat."

"I'm not a brat," Mikan denied. She sighed, knowing that she, at the very least, should cut the guy some slack. "Alright, I'm sorry. Piggy Matsunoro it is…" What a weird name, she added to herself. "Thanks."

"Whatever brat."

Annoyed, she muttered as she turned back to her speech, "Insolent bastard."

Alice Academy of the Arts, Performance Theater, Stage

"And now," Narumi declared as he beamed at the thousands of students before him, "I present to you this year's speaker, Mikan Sakura."

Claps and catcalls were heard from all over the theater, and the brunette proudly stood before the podium as she thanked everyone with a warm smile. "Thank you, and welcome to a new year here in Alice Academy of the Arts." She paused and performed a thorough glance on her paper. "AAA has been my training ground since I was a child. I started my first ballet lessons here and met many friends that, if not for them, I wouldn't even be standing here now." She quickly glimpsed at them in the front row, mentally warning them that it was not gratitude. "It fed me the prominence I wanted as a naïve and innocent lass. It provided my supreme necessitate and yearning to be someone eminent in the world of dancing.

Alice Academy of the Arts has given me more than I've ever wanted. I first came as a meager amateur, and, years later, here I am, standing before you, in a very composed and modish manner, welcoming you all to a new year that would soon be filled with ecstasy and congenial moments. I would also like to thank our performing arts president," she flashed a quick smile towards the cited, "who made our success possible the previous year. Thank you, Piggy Matsunoro."

The theater instantly snorted with laughter. Confused, Mikan looked around. Even her friends were trying hard not to laugh out loud. She noticed a figure fleeing out of the theater. From the corner of her eye, she noticed someone waving at her. Narumi was holding out a placard with a name vaguely readable, 'Penny Hatsuno'.

The name stuck on Mikan. 'Penny Hatsuno… Penny Hatsuno…' That was when it struck her.

Penny Hatsuno is the performing arts president. And Mikan Sakura just humiliated her in front of the whole academy.

Alice Academy of the Arts, Parking Lot

"UGH!" Mikan buried her face in both her hands as her now-messy hair reflected her chaotic state. How can I be so reckless, she thought infuriatingly, I should've double-checked it!

She heard whispers and sniggers concerning 'Piggy' as she walked towards her car; she felt a knife go through her heart. She didn't know people can be so cruel. Besides that, she also felt ashamed. Students kept pointing at her because of getting the name wrong. Oh, if only Hotaru's here, she wished intently.

She climbed on her Mercedes-Benz without waiting for her friends, as her usual routine. She has had enough of seven hours of hearing 'Peggy' and 'Mikan' straight; it's actually tiring, she must say. Why was—

"Koko, you son of a—"

SCREECH.

"— get back here and give me back that cookie!"

CLANG.

"You bastard!"

BAM.

"Go to hell!"

BANG.

"Oh my gosh!"

Mikan quickly went out of her Mercedes and stared ghastly at the large dent on its front hood. Her precious car now bears an enormous scratch from an unknown material. She angrily turned to the delinquent who destroyed her car, her long brown hair immediately falling down to her waist. She spat at the two guys who seemed amused at the outcome of their fooling around, "What on earth?!"

"Oh," a sandy-haired shoved his companion, a dark-haired guy with thin hair, on the ribs, "Isn't she Pinky or something?"

"Nah, I think it's more like Baby."

"Stupid," the former snorted and disagreed in a palpable manner, "you can't call someone baby."

"I ain't calling her baby." He suddenly winked at Mikan. "How's it goin'?"

Ignoring their little act, Mikan continued in an angry voice, "You just wrecked my car, in case you haven't noticed."

"Car?"

"Yes, this Mercedes was a gift to me, and you just wrecked it!"

"I'm not calling it a wreck, if you ask me."

The other nodded, "Doesn't look wrecked to me."

"Just a scratch."

"Really small scratch."

"Oh, 'm wrong, it's a big scratch."

"There's a dent, too."

"We did that?"

"Sure did."

"Ah well. Bye, Pinky."

With that, the two 'crooks' turned their back on her. Acting swiftly, Mikan roundhouse kicked them— a trick she learned in them midst of her ballet training. The two guys howled in pain; everyone was now looking at them.

Just then, the crowd parted like the sea did with Moses; only this time, it wasn't just "Moses", he was with "Aaron".

"Koko! Mochu!" a blonde called after them as he ran to their aid, abandoning the raven-haired guy he was with. "What have you two been up to this time?"

The dark-haired groaned as he clutched his stomach, "Sugar there booted us!"

Mikan stomped her right foot and pointed wrathfully at her two currently most-hated people in the whole world as she obstinately explained; "They wrecked my car!"

"It was a scratch!" The sandy-haired retorted as he continued whining.

"You call a dent a scratch?!"

"It's just a scratch," an annoyed unfamiliar voice piped in, "no need to scream."

She irately turned to the unwelcome speaker; she stopped, and gasped, "You!"

The raven-haired raised his eyebrows and asked just to wind her up, "Me?"

"Yes, you!" Mikan screamed as she pointed at the guy like a criminal caught in the act, "You were the one who told me that Penny's name is Piggy!"

He rolled his eyes; "Now I remember. You're that bratty idiot who didn't know the PA President."

"I am not a bratty idiot!" she gasped, "You— you— you—"

"Wonderful Bastard?" the sandy-haired supplied with a wide grin, completely dropping his act.

The dark-haired smirked, "Delicious Asshole?"

Mikan inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a while. When she flicked them open again, all four boys stared at her with raised eyebrows.

"The hell?"

She shook her head. "You people are impossible."

"How can they be impossible?" another voice piped in.

The two first guys slapped him in the backside, "How's it goin', Kitsu, my man?"

"We just saw each other ten minutes ago, Koko."

"Stop joking around. That was eleven minutes ago."

Mikan raised her hands, "Please don't forget the ballerina here!"

"You're a ballerina?" the newcomer asked.

"Of course I am." Mikan smiled with visible pride.

"So Pinky here's one of those uptight tights-lovers people?"

"Do not call me Pinky!"

"Who cares?"

"Whatever," Mikan sighed, "Will you please just take my car for fixing, please?"

Koko, the sandy-haired, now that Mikan recalled, sneered at her, "What makes you think we can send it for fixing?"

"Well, obviously because you're in the Alice Academy School of the Arts," Mikan rolled her eyes, "Duh, everyone knows this is like, the elite arts school."

"Look here ballerina," the raven-haired grabbed her wrist and stared at him with his piercing crimson eyes, "If you think we're some stuck-up rich snobby people like you are, you're wrong. Now run off and tell your mummy that your car met an accident."

Misinterpreting, Mikan continued to argue. "But my car didn't meet an accident. It met two bothersome and lackadaisical fools."

"Lacka-muchacha?" The dark-haired asked with his face all scrunched up.

Koko shrugged, "Hakuna matata?"

Mikan buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Hakuna matata means no worries, not careless."

"Why are treating yourself badly, then?" Mochu shook his head, "You could've say careless."

"I just did."

"No, you said hakuna matata."

"I didn't say hakuna matata, Koko Crunch did."

"Hey," Koko interrupted mulishly, "why am I the cereal mascot?"

"This conversation is going nowhere!" Mikan whined, "I just want my car fixed, now is that fine with you guys?"

"We're guys?" Kitsuneme asked loudly.

Koko shrugged, "She said so. I thought we're fools?"

Mochu shook his head, "No, we were fools two minutes ago. We're guys now."

"Oh shut up, all of you!" the crimson-eyed growled, making the three shiver in fright and Mikan blink confusingly. "Listen here, Barbie, and listen well," he motioned at Mikan as he grabbed her by the collar of her coat, "Run off and never cross paths with us again."

"My name is not Barbie." Mikan fumed, "It's Mikan Sakura."

He paused for a moment; they both started a glaring battle. Surprisingly, he suddenly smirked and brought his lips closer to her ear. "It's Natsume Hyuuga, and remember the name."

Mikan shoved herself away from Natsume with knife-like eyes. "Sure will, jerk-face."

She turned around and hopped in her car. The crowd started thinning as Mikan revved up her Mercedes.

"Come on you bastards," Natsume muttered, "Practice."