Dear Diary,

Sorry it has been so long, but we moved to a new town to be near my parents' friends. I already hate it. The first day of classes, the teachers made me stand up and introduce myself and everybody stared and whispered behind their hands at me. That stupid nickname followed me here. :( Sephy. What's wrong with Sephiroth or just Seph?

There are these four boys who are the worst. They all hang out together and smoke behind the gym. Vincent and Cloud are so handsome; I wish they liked me. But Cloud seems to really hate me. We have science together. The teacher, Mr. Hojo, really seems to like me. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me how well I was doing on my lab but after he walked away, Cloud looked at me like he wanted to punch me. It made me sad.

Anyway, tonight my parents have invited over their friends, our neighbors. Mom says that they have a boy about my age but the goes to an ultra-exclusive school. His parents have a whole lot of money. I hope they aren't snobs.

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Seph closed his diary and hid it under his mattress. He stood in front of his mirror, swathed in black lace at the edges, to brush his long, naturally silver hair. He'd added black streaks to it. His dad hated that he wore the clothes and make-up that he did. His mom said it was a phase. She was wrong. This wasn't a phase. This was who he was, right there for everyone to see if they would only LOOK.

He wore black fishnet arm warmers with sparkly silver spider webs woven in under a band t-shirt. He liked to laugh at people who didn't know who the band was: it was The Cure. It was a really old band but it was so good and it spoke to his heart. He put on his black eyeliner and lipstick and then his dark, dark shimmery blue eyeshadow that made his eyes look like crystal pools in the snow of his skin. His pants were held low on his hips by a wide black leather belt with silver studs. He had a few other belts lose on his hips. The pants were black and he had cut them in big pieces, then laced the pieces back together with red shoelaces and safety pins. He strapped on his boots, big clunky ones that had the steel toe riveted to the outside. Sometimes he wrote things on them in Kanje. He spoke Japanese.

He used it to insult the boys who made fun of him and called him a dork or a stupid emo goth. He hated them so much that sometimes he thought he would catch on fire and burn up from the inside out. Someday he'd show them he wasn't stupid and then they'd pay. Someday, he'd burn their whole world down. "SEPH! Come on!"

He heaved a sigh and dragged himself downstairs to meet his parent's friends.