I start this Monday by falling flat on my back. A normal guy might think his day could only improve from here. I doubt this is going to be the case.
Two blonde boys in glasses glare down at me. I hear laughter. Someone cheers.
Above me, a giant sign hangs unsteadily from the hallway ceiling: a pink and purple, glitter-encrusted symbol of doom, no doubt handmade by Maizono and Mioda from the Prom Committee.
Leon Kuwata takes a flying leap over me and slaps the sign with his hand. A shower of glitter falls from the ceiling and a piece lodges itself into my eyeball.
I close my eyes.
"Watch where you're going, idiot," Togami One, the uptight one, says, "If you had injured my brother, I'd…"
"Forget it, Byakuya," Togami Two, the fat one, says in return, "A scrawny thing like him could never hurt me."
Kuwata cheers again, and pumps his fist above his head. A small crowd of pretty girls and some guys who all seem to be wearing the same shoes have gathered. They're the popular kids, gathering their day's supply of entertainment from my comedic fall, like squirrels gathering nuts.
"Did you have a nice trip, Hajime-chan?" Mioda asks, and I'm really not sure if she's genuinely trying to be friendly or not. It's hard to tell, these days. Still, the Pack laughs anyway.
No one but Mioda calls me Hajime-chan. Some of the more polite kids throw in "Hinata-san" sometimes, and I've seen "Hinata" occasionally, but otherwise I have always been just "Hinata-kun".
I am definitely not a "Hajime-chan."
Now Komaeda is looking down at me with an expression that could be interpreted as concern. This is because a) my best friend's face rarely displays anything other than a semi-cheerful appearance, and b) Komaeda knows that showing anything will only lead to additional torment when I do, eventually, stand. I stay frozen for about eight more seconds until Komaeda holds out a hand and helps me to my feet.
Owari appears beside me, glaring down the hallway. She's in her fighting stance, and she has her game face on. Unfortunately, the principal had been in his about-to-expel-Owari-if-she-gets-in-any-more-fight s stance lately. I fear that this day is about to go from bad to worse.
Komaeda gathers games I borrowed from Nanami that have fallen from my bag. Then he faces the Togami twins, Leon Kuwata and the crowd with a slight frown.
"I'm really sorry about all of this. Would you mind letting Hinata-kun get to his locker, now?" Komaeda murmurs.
"This doesn't concern you, Komaeda." Togami Two says.
"Be quiet, simpleton." Togami One says at the same time. I decide not to react.
Owari has other ideas.
"What'd you call Komaeda?!" She says, barrelling past me, and it's only a last-minute survival reflex that makes me reach out and grab her by the arm.
"Control Big Sis Owari, Big Bro Hinata! She's scary!" Saionji, the school's resident gremlin says, and the crowd laughs again. Owari turns purple.
"It's okay, Owari-san…" I mutter, not because Saionji said to calm her down, but because I can hear her whispering, practising the string of cuss words she's about to shout at them all under her breath.
Enoshima giggles, and after prompting her creepy sister joins in. "Seriously, If this loser factory was awarding Losers of the Year, you boys would be up for, like, a Loser Grammy or something."
What Enoshima has just said doesn't really make sense at all, but it doesn't matter to the Pack. They laugh. Just when I'm praying to the gods that my death will be quick and painless, the bell rings, and Togami One hip-and-shoulders me as he passes. I'm shoved into the lockers, just like a cheesy high school movie.
The guys follow him, glaring at us. The girls dissolve into their own little cliques, tittering.
Owari and Komaeda appear at my side. I straighten my tie. "Have I ever mentioned I hate my life?"
Komaeda sighs. "Often, Hinata-kun." He looks at me blankly. "Are you ready for English class?"
"I could so take that guy," Owari growls, taking no notice to us.
"Yeah," I say, "and then you'd be expelled."
We stand where we are for fifteen seconds, a silent agreement between us to wait for the length of time it will take the Pack to reach our English classroom. We don't look at each other. But when the time has passed, we start to walk together.

I used to be a fan of Hope's Peak when I was a kid. Back then, high school seemed like the coolest thing ever. It would be full or parties, driving cars and spending time with my many, many friends. It turned out that yeah, that happened – but not for me. Now I'm excited to get out of here, and devote all of my time at a stupid job that doesn't make any money in a tiny house that I spend the rest of my life paying off. Hooray…!
The Togami twins have gotten even worse this year. Maybe they fell into a vat of some jerky supervillain juice over the summer holidays. Or maybe their three functioning brain cells are just really bored.
Despite the fact that prom is nine months away, the Prom Committee has turned the entire school into a container of glitter and pink, which only adds to my already terrible mood.
Our walls, once papered with art projects and posters warning about the damage of cigarettes, now hold a sea of trash about prom. Collages of faces in various lip-joined poses have appeared everywhere, while movie posters have bastardised in unforgiveable ways. I'm yet to be convinced that the "Glamour of Old Hollywood" can replicated on poster paper with art supplies from Walmart.
The chess club's pin board is covered with a Casablanca poster. Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman have been replaced by the faces of Togami One and Celestia Ludenberg, Celestia's blank eyes staring into Togami's irritated ones. I have been thinking whether or not the old moustache-and-horns vandalism is too good for them.

Komaeda and I have English together now, but Owari has maths. She walks with us to our classroom anyway, even though she'll have to backtrack and will therefore be late.
Komaeda shuffles unhurriedly to me left, and Owari slumps slowly to my right. Komaeda flicks my shoulder casually. Glitter drizzles from my sleeve. Owari clears her throat and runs a hand through her hair. I do the same, another pink-and-purple glitter shower rains onto the floor.
It is the closest I will ever come to coordinated movement with other human beings.
Needless to say, I'm not going to prom.