This is my first fic with an OC, though I'm pretty sure that's no great feat in and of itself. The OC is based upon myself, tacky though that may seem, except for the fact that the names are different and the parents have different attitudes, which you'll find out in later chapters. As always, read & review if you can spare a few seconds. Also, let it be known that I retain no rights to any songs, digimon, artists, or any other lawsuit-worthy item in here. The only thing I own is the OC and his family. Good? Good.
The quiet stillness of the school yard was pierced by the shrill chime of the bell, and within seconds the empty quad area swarmed with students, their voices buzzing and mixing in a crowded tone. All had visions of the three day weekend and the extra rest and relaxation it brought in company with it, and there was a relaxed Friday mood hanging over the assembled teens of Stone Lake High.
Among the students still pouring out of the classrooms was a tall boy of about sixteen years. He stepped along almost jerkingly, his longer stride interrupted by slower students. A pair of large black Sony stereo headphones adorned his head, their long cord trailing down his grey-blue shirt to wind back into the pocket of his jeans and attach itself to his ever-present Walkman. The music pounded in his ears, its heavy bass tones occupying his mind and obscuring all other noise occurring in his general area.
He walked past the crème-and-brown Biology building, his way still obstructed by those who had not enough sense to move out of the path of others. He started suddenly as his headphones were yanked off his brown-blond hair and a voice invaded his music.
"Earth to Matt Shephard. Come in Matt."
Matt turned and stared into the grinning face of his best friend.
"Hey Steven." he said, snatching back his headphones and hanging them around his neck.
"It's like you're not even tuned in to reality when you wear those, man, you know that?" Steven said, pointing to the headphones.
"What can I say?" Matt shrugged. "Music is much better than the constant drone of all these sheep." he said, gesturing at the huddled students. He imitated the voice of one of the blonde girls standing a ways over, "Omigod! Did you see her and Ricky?! She's a total whore! He can do way better than that piece of garbage."
Steven laughed. "Haha. Yeah, you're right. But one of these days, man, you're gonna get caught with those phones. Music ain't allowed on campus, you know that. If you were smart, you'd sneak in some ear buds or something smaller than what you got now. Those things aren't exactly subtle."
Matt just shrugged again. "Ear buds sound like crap. These have better sound quality, and they block out most of the outside noise, too."
"Yeah, I know. I called your name, like, four times before I had to pull them off."
"Good for you. Hey, come on, let's be good sheep and walk. I got my ride waiting for me up at the corner." They proceeded to wade through the crowd, Matt leading, as people were more likely to move for some 6'3" white guy than a 5'4" Chinese boy. Go figure. They got to a clearer area of the path and walked side by side.
"God, man. You really stand out in a crowd, huh?" Steven piped up.
"Yeah. I've told you a thousand times before, I feel like an eel in a sea of minnows."
"Pssh." Steven thumped Matt on the shoulder. "So what CD you got today?"
"A Passage in Time."
"Ah. Authority Zero. How many times you gonna bring that?"
"Till I get tired of it, that's how long."
"Whatever. So what are you doing this weekend?"
"Why Steven! Are you asking me on a date?" Matt joked. It earned him a light punch in the arm from his indignant friend.
"You know what I meant, smartass. What do you have planned?"
"I dunno. Relax, ride my bike, listen to music, whatever happens, y'know?"
"Hmph. Poor planning skills, that's what you got. I'm going to my aunt's in San Francisco."
"Hey, does she really live in Chinatown?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Dunno. It just sounds kinda cool. I went there in 6th grade; we got fortune cookies and Chinese food. It rocked solidly."
"There's more to Chinatown than the food, dude." With an "oh!", he slapped Matt on the shoulder again. "Don't forget, I need that ten bucks on Tuesday!"
Oh, yeah, I'll totally try to remember this time." Matt said as they reached the bike locks and storage. "It's just that your money burns holes in my pocket."
"Yeah, funny how other people's money'll do that to ya… See you next week, you poor bastard." Steve said with a wave as Matt left his side and ventured toward the corner of the campus and his ride home. "And I expect that ten bucks when I see you again!"
"Sorry, can't hear you." Matt shot over his shoulder with a smile.
Steven laughed to himself and mounted his bike, taking it slowly out of the crowded bike locks.
Matt, now alone in his walking, replaced his headphones and switched the CD to one of his favorite songs. Within seconds the familiar music was thumping in his ears, and he felt himself being lifted above everything that was occurring around him. He felt detached from the mundane existence of his suburban life. Nothing mattered anymore. There was just him and the music, and it soothed him as it pulsed through the black phones hiding his ears.
Not you! Not you! Not you! Not you!
I'm me, not you!
He felt himself loosen up under the influence of bass-ridden undertones and familiar lyrics, and casually glanced from side to side as he walked, surveying his fellow students with an air of separation and difference.
Who am I and what am I to believe?
Well not a single thing you're sayin' to me!
I've had enough, my friend,
And I'm fed up again.
Well, it's me, not you!
He wasn't really like any of them, he supposed. All the others, secure in their positions and their passions, materialistic passions though they were. Many of the kids, at least those he came in contact with, were only interested in what time the newest shoe in the line came out, what rumors were circulating, and the current fashion trends. They all wanted to fit in, whereas he could care less. It was not like he wanted to stand out or anything; he just didn't care what others were doing or what they thought about him. He had other things to think about than petty outward appearances.
See, it's my life, not yours.
Take a look, I'm not gonna take anymore.
Don't you know it's me, not you?
In the social pyramid of that particular school, he was considered by most people to be a loner. He sometimes hung out with a few other social misfits, but mostly he kept to himself, writing or simply contemplating various aspects of life. He wasn't antisocial, it was just that no one really connected with him enough to be real friends.
Individuality, what does it mean?
I think it's you be you and I'll be me.
Your own opinion? Great, grand, good for you.
It's still me, not you.
Except, of course, for Steven. He and Matt had been best friends since about first grade, and they stayed together despite different classes and schools and a clearly noticeable height difference. But other than that, he had seen many people come and go, either being friends just in class or being slightly confused at his choices. Matt didn't mind so much, though; he enjoyed having time to himself and being independent. It was his time of freedom, his time to figure things out.
See, it's my life, not yours,
Take a look, I'm not gonna take anymore.
Don't you know that it's me, not you?
With the end of the song and the CD, he found himself nearing his ride home. He walked to the green-grey Toyota minivan, rapped on the back window, and heard the locks open, followed by the rising of the power door. He threw his backpack in and shut the hatch, walking around to the side to enter the passenger seat beside his mother.
"Hey." he greeted, buckling his seat belt.
"Hey." came the mirrored reply.
"First weekend in a while with no homework due the next week."
"Good, cause I have some things I need you to do around the house to day while I'm gone."
Matt's head turned to look at her. "You're going somewhere?"
"Yes. I have an appointment with Belinda, and then I have some errands to run. Your dad has to work late again, and Chris is over at Eric's house until about 7:00. You'll be alone, and I expect the house to be clean when I get back."
Matt heard the message, registered it, and translated it. Mom gone, Dad gone, brother gone. Home alone with nothing to worry about except for a couple minute chores. He smiled to himself.