I realized that there is no dramatic ass 2p spamano story and that is a travesty honestly

Santiago, at six years old, was not exactly the picture perfect image of a kindergartner. He looked much older, and more unpleasant than the usual child. His hair was pitch black, with a sudden streak of white on his bangs. A birth defect, not anything he could help yet was constantly blamed for. Instead of a bright smile, he only knew frowns and sneers, adopting them from his parents. No, he was not a normal boy.

Yet his mother insisted he go to school. Santiago suspected she just wanted to get rid of him for a few hours, but he didn't mind. It was a better alternative to shoving him into the closet.

She drove him to the school, but didn't walk in with him, which left Santiago to wobble around the hallways, unsure where to go, until a teacher led him to the classroom. There, he suddenly wished his mom had chosen the closet.

There were kids his age, and yet they didn't seem to be like Santiago at all. They were smiling and laughing and looked normal with hair that was one consistent color and clothes that were clean and pressed. The Spanish boy felt like an outsider, and this sensation increased when a few children decided to stare. He always got these looks from people of all ages, a silent, distant question of "what's wrong with him?" He wasn't sure how to answer it.

"Alright, let's all get into the circle!" sang a pretty, blonde lady, who ushered each of the rowdy kids to sit neatly on the multicolored, circular mat in the middle of the room. Santiago, elated by the distraction, sat down a bit away from everyone else. The teacher didn't notice.

"Since it's everyone's first day, let's go around the circle, and say our names and one thing we like! I'll go first, okay? I'm Miss Amy, and I like cooking! And now you..." She turned to the boy sitting next to her, and that's when Santiago zoned out.

He didn't like this. There were too many people, and all of them probably hated him. It wouldn't be surprising. His father stated he took one look at him when he was born and was disgusted. So imagine having to look at him for years?

He was alerted back into present time when the kid next to him poked his arm, signaling that his was his turn. Santiago looked to the multicolored mat, unable to meet any of the expectant stares. "My...name's Santiago...and I...like t'sleep," he mumbled, the words processing slowly. He wasn't good with English, it wasn't his first language. His mother had taught him hastily a year before he was to go to school, but his words were still confused and layered with a heavy accent. A few people around him giggled. He really wanted to go home.

Once everyone was finished, the bright teacher beamed at her students. "Now since school is really scary, you're all gonna get buddies so you have a friend you can count on! You'll walk together when we go anywhere else in the school, holding hands so no one gets lost."

It was like Santiago's worst fear. Some poor kid getting stuck with his useless self. Couldn't he just be alone? He worked best by himself.

Alas, Miss Amy walked around, guiding each child to their buddy, instructing them to play games to get used to the other. She did this until two students remained, one of them being Santiago.

She smiled, gently taking his hand and leading him to the last person, a boy with chestnut colored hair that was neat, aside from a lone stray hair that stuck out. His eyes were brown, but they almost looked red, and his clothes were immaculate. "Santiago, you'll be Flavio's buddy. Okay?"

He gave a jerk nod, refusing to look at either of them. Miss Amy let go of his hand, and Flavio's immediately replaced it, tugging him toward the drawing table.

"Do you like to draw?" asked Flavio, and Santiago was startled to hear his voice was funny too. The only difference was he clearly grasped English easily.

"What?"

"Do you like to draw?" repeated the boy, but he didn't wait for his buddy's response before rattling off. "I love drawing! Mama and papa say I'm gonna grow up to be an artist! What do you wanna be when you grow up? Why's your hair like that? It looks funny. I like it." Before Santiago could stop him, the other boy touched his hair lightly, as if it was something delicate.

Santiago took this chance to force himself to talk. "Looks...like skunk..." he managed, trying to say something else before giving up. Words were too hard.

Flavio giggled. "Skunk. You're funny. I like you. Are we friends?"

Now this wasn't what the Spaniard had been expecting. He didn't think anyone could like him, his father had burned it into his brain that he was unlikable. Yet now he had an offer from this smiley, talkative person. "...Yes...buddies."

"Buddies!" Flavio agreed, scribbling on his paper with each crayon carefully. Santiago began to draw as well, mainly because he wasn't sure what else he would do.

Soon, the day was coming to a close, and the two little boys continued to draw ferociously. As the parents came to pick up their children, Flavio tapped his buddy's shoulder confidently, giving him the piece of paper. "I have to go now. Bye bye, Santi!" He gave the Spaniard a crushing hug, before skipping out the door with a woman who was probably his mother.

Santiago looked at the drawing, which appeared to be of him and his buddy, with big smiles and hearts. It brought a slow, tiny smile to his face, which immediately disappeared as his mother nudged his arm, signaling they had to leave.

As he followed her to their shoddy car, he hugged the piece of paper to his chest, making sure it wouldn't drop. He wanted to keep it somewhere safe.

The weeks went on and Santiago found himself attached to Flavio and only Flavio. The other kids scared him still, but at least he had one friend he could spend time with.

Flavio did most of the talking, babbling on about whatever came to mind. Santiago discovered that his new friend was Italian, and was born in Italy, but moved to America. He spoke both Italian and English. His papa was a musician and his mama was pregnant. His Nonno also lived with them, and he was always busy with work. He didn't have any other friends because people usually didn't like him for so long.

Santiago liked him though. They would just sit and color and he could listen to Flavio talk and just relax a bit. He couldn't draw as well as the Italian, but he usually just scribbled a lot.

"Lookit, Santi, I drew mama and papa and Nonno and the baby!" Flavio chirped, showing off his creation. "I don't know if it's gonna be a girl or a boy...do you have brothers and sisters? What do your parents do?"

Santiago thought about this for a second. "No brothers or sisters..." Technically a lie. He had a half brother, but he lived in Portugal with his other family. Santiago didn't know him well enough. "Mama dances. Papa builds stuff." Mama also went out at nights and didn't come back until really late. Papa drank when he was home and complained and yelled at Santiago to stop being such a "fucking eyesore" (he didn't know what fucking meant, but papa used it a lot, so it must have been bad). Sometimes papa and mama would get tired of him and lock him in the closet. If that didn't work, in came the belt from his papa.

But these didn't seem like things to tell Flavio, because that probably wasn't normal.

"Neat! Sounds like fun!"

Before Flavio could ask his buddy more questions, two girls walked up to them, giggling. "Hi, Flavio!" said the one, waving shyly. "We wanted to ask you something!"

They had ignored Santiago completely. That was okay. It wasn't anything new. "What is it?" Flavio inquired, kicking his legs back and forth.

"Who do you think is the cutest in the class?" Another round of giggles from this. What was so funny about it?

Flavio thought for a moment, before brightening and pointing at Santiago. "Santi! Santi's the cutest!"

A wave of puzzlement washed through all three of the listeners. The girls looked at each other, before one of them huffed. "You can't pick Santiago. He's a boy!"

"But he's the cutest," stated Flavio, poking his friend's reddening cheek, giggling.

The girls shrugged, running off to ask the next boy. Santiago glared at his buddy. "Why'd you lie?"

"I don't lie! You're cutest!" Flavio latched onto him, beaming.

"I am not!"

"Yes! Other people might not think so, but I'll always think you're cute!"

Santiago pouted. "Not when I'm old..."

"Nuh uh. I'll think you're cute forever. And we'll be together forever, so you'll always be cute!"

This was a bit alarming. He didn't think anyone would want to be around him for that long. But he certainly wouldn't object. "You promise...? We'll be together forever?"

The Italian tilted his head to the side, grinning. "Of course! Forever and ever!"

Maybe school was bearable after all.

It'll get better later. Probably.

This is actually going to turn into something a bit less innocent than the average best-friends-turned-boyfriend story I'm sure everyone loves. This will be worse.