When news of a famous blogger reached Headmaster Suoh by his students and colleagues, he had to know what was so exciting about a young girl online who filmed vlogs and wrote on a website. Which is why he is now seriously considering bringing the girl to his school for student speaking or perhaps even attending his prestigious school. Her name would definitely enhance the chances of the school being popular and she seemed like a wonderful influence among his students. Of course, rumors about this sort of thing spread quickly and he had no sooner officially made it his mission that he received a phone call from an old rival-slash-maybe-friend, Ootori Yoshio.
The conversation goes on and Suoh soon learns that Ootori knew the student in question's mother back in his youthful years and wishes to fulfill a promise he planned on keeping from the moment he met the woman. So at the end of this call, they both decide to travel together to meet the new student who they both want to meet-albeit for different reasons- with their sons.
This, my dear readers, is where the story begins and where the author stops sounding like some omniscient, pompous, idiot and starts writing like she normally does. My apologies.
I am completely and utterly normal. My name may be searched almost as many times as "bacon" and "porn" and my YouTube channel may have more than two million subscribers and a lot of people may or may not read my blog a lot. Other than that, the only thing setting me apart from the rest of society is the fact I am on antidepressants, sleep meds, and a strict regiment of a pack of cigarettes ever two weeks. Somewhere in there, I eat and sleep and even those differences make me a part of some fraction of society. Therefore, I am completely normal. Other people, though, try to convince me I am totally different and am the most dazzling thing in the world. Yeah, because the sun is brightest star in the sky. It isn't; it's just closest one around.
I even have a normal fucking name! Marie McCall. I have been off school for personal reasons. I have one direct family member and she is my little sister. I have unruly, light-brown hair, grey eyes, and a pale complexion. I am short for my age. That's it really. Nothing exciting. Everything is average other than how many people know me on the internet. Hell, they've even seen my face for christ's sake.
I woke up this morning (afternoon) to the sound of people packing my things without my permission. I of course yelled at them and it turned out to be my older half-sister and her husband. My legal guardians who are pretty much assholes who hate my guts. They then told me I was to be meeting important people the next day and they wished for me to stay at the same hotel. Of course, at the word hotel, I jumped at the chance. I like hotels. They've got good radios and really nice food. And the help staff are some of the nicest people in the world.
So here I am, sitting alone in my room in the clothes I fell asleep in waiting for my best friend to come to my room with my breakfast/brunch because I called her and said that I had (yet again) flushed my antidepressants down the toilet but kept the sleeping meds. Ally, being the sweetheart she is, offered to bring me food to eat so I didn't have to interact with people. How could I refuse free food and my best friend? Getting up, I go over to my bag and rummage around until I find my cigarettes and then a light. Placing one between my lips, I go into the bathroom and turn on the fan so that I don't stink up my room too badly. I light it and inhale the sweet mixture of death and nicotine into my lungs and then exhale most of the smoke residue left from my pleasureful cancer stick. I keep have this stupid thought rise up in my head as I think about what my mother had always said about smoking.
It'll kill you eventually. That's what happened to my father.
I bark out a laugh that is much too harsh to be called a laugh.
"Fuck it, Mom, I'm sorry but no too sorry," I say looking up at the badly painted hotel bathroom ceiling. I raise my cigarette and then inhale another breath of smokey addiction. "To you, Mother. I love you. Happy birthday. I'm sorry." And then I start crying.
It's an hour, one or two episodes of Supernatural, a cup of tea and one more cigarette later that a knock comes to the door and I get out of the bathroom and shut of the fan. I skip towards the door hoping to find my best friend and some sort of sustenance. No such luck.
"Hello. Are you Marie-Evalyn McCall?" A man asks, his English slightly accented but only a little. One can barely tell unless paying attention. He is dressed like a business man like the man next to him except this man has dark hair with flecks of gray and glasses while the other has light brown hair and brown eyes. The cigarette is still between my lips and I slowly remove it and then look at each of them realizing that Nora and Robert (legal wardens-guardians-things) are standing behind them and blow a stream of smoke after turning my head.
"This is Marie-Evalyn McCall but you can call me Marie," I respond and then move away from the door to let them in. As they file in, I arch an eyebrow at Nora and she shrugs but I know that she knows that they are doing here and what they want from me. After sitting down at the small dining table that is part of the hotel room suite, they begin talking about some school in Japan. I had heard of it at one point for an immersion project because I had been learning Japanese at the time but the school looked a bit...pretentious. They are wondering if I was willing to transfer and I answer right off the bat that no, I would not go. That prompts questioning and most of the inquiries are easy to answer except for the last one.
"Is there anything tying you to this one location? To my knowledge, you have been moving around quite frequently." Dark hair and glasses asks me while looking me in the eye (Ootori is his name...I think) and I stare back at him and then clear my throat. I smash the end of my cigarette into the ash tray with more force than needed but I continue to do so until I count to ten without punching him in is smug face.
"Not particularly but while we are on the subject, why do you know that I've been moving a lot?" I ask but his smug face remains and my gaze zeroes in on the now closing door where my guardians are now fleeing from my wrath. My hands are fists and I don't really feel like unclenching them. "They told you, huh. At any point, I am not tied here for any reason other than the fact my little sister gets to visit me on occasion." The kinder of the two (Suoh. Really happy guy with serious family issues.) looks at me, his eyes burning with that question everyone always wants to ask.
"I'm not allowed to see her. I caused an accident that had unintentionally put her in harm's way so Nora and Robert thought it would be best if I couldn't see her for more than small chunks of the year at a time. It's no big deal," I say as I wave my hand through the air. "But I prefer that I remain at a distance where she can get to me within an hour's notice."
"I see," Ootori speculates as he watches me over the rims of his wire glasses. I arc an eyebrow at his somewhat worrying, clever look on his face.
"You're devising a plan, aren't you?" I ask and he actually laughs and it isn't fake like his smile or his thanks to my guardians.
"I'll make you a deal. If you come to dinner with Mr. Suoh and I along with our families, I'll tell you my plans. In exchange, you make choose whether or not you want to go to Mr. Suoh's school instead of you guardians deciding," he suggest and I freeze up. Of course they'd ask my guardians; I'm not legally allowed to say anything in the matter. I'm still sixteen.
"Okay then. For now: get the hell out of my room," I manage to growl through my clenched teeth and that prompts them to quickly head to the door. My eyes remain at the table until Ootori calls to me.
"You are so much like your mother," he says and before I can ask him what he means, the door clicks shut and I am left alone again. Before I can punch a wall with frustration, another knock comes to my door. I yank the door almost of its hinges and let out a loud "What?!" In the hall stands my best friend with a saran wrapped plate of food and a look of fear and a frown.
"What's the matter?" She asks as I grab her hand and pull her into the room and I take the plat of food to a couch that is also in the suite.
"I had a frustrating morning," I reply and then regale my morning to her attentive ears. After I finish my report of the morning, my food is gone and I'm still upset but full.
"What the hell? Did he seriously say that?" Ally asks and I nod as I curl up, knees to my chin and eyes straight ahead at the laptop that I had brought to the sofa to watch more Supernatural.
"Yup. He knew Mom," I said quietly as I watched Castiel appear right after Dean says "He doesn't live in my ass." I don't even crack a smile and I realize that it's a bad day if SPN doesn't make me laugh.
"Then you have to go to dinner! I mean, he obviously wants to talk to you about your mom," Ally tells me and I pause the episode and look at her. Her eyes are lit up and I smile are her enthusiasm. She knows that I miss my mom and my sister and that I try to remember my mom even though I wasn't in a too-good point in our relationship at the time with my mom. Sometimes, telling your mom that you're pansexual and that you've got a girlfriend right after Mass is a bad idea.
" I guess so," I reply and Ally puts an arm over my shoulder and smiles as she clicks the play button on the screen.
"You'll be just fine. I'll even do your hair and pick out your outfit!" Ally gushes and I glare at her but at the same time smile.
"Are you serious? It's just a dinner with people, Ally. It's not like I'm meeting some famous author," I reply but the look on her face tells me to let her do this.
"Yes but I want my bestie to look especially beautiful and astounding. I bet they have really hot sons," she drools, SPN in the background.
"Yeah, as long as they aren't douchebags," I reply and then we delve into a debate about something to do with guys. All I know is that I forget for a while that it's my mom's birthday.
I stand in the elevator trying not to panic about the thought of socializing with a bunch of people I don't know. Being the stubborn-ass dumbutt I am, I refused to dress up for the occasion so I made sure to only pack jeans and shirts that made me feel comfortable with one or two sweaters for nightwear and being the amazing person Ally is, she somehow made me looking fine as hell with her limited supplies. I wore a button down, purple t-shirt, a pair of black jeans that were comfortable enough to sit in my not too baggy and my only pair of shoes: old black airwalks that had been through hell and back with me. My makeup was a meager amount of mascara, clear lip gloss, and a little bit of concealer for a scar above my eyebrow.
Walking out of the elevator, my cell beeps with several messages. The first from Ally saying good luck and to not curse as much as I sometimes do. The second from Connor who tells me that Ally told him that I was having to meet people and how he hopes I don't get angry and destroy the entire restaurant in some fit of rage. The third is from my little sister saying that she had only been told an hour before after forcing it out of Nora and that if any of them piss me off, I have total rights to beat their asses into the pavement as long as I film it. I laugh at the last one and shoot out a quick thanks and then head over to the specific restaurant that I had been told to show up at by Robert. I silently thank God that their asses wouldn't be there. I might've thrown something across the room if they decided to come.
I arrived at the restaurant and walked towards the host/hostess table and clear my throat so that whoever is supposed to be there knows to come back. They do and when they do, they look my up and down and kinda give me that 'what-the-hell-is-she-doing-here' look and I simply smile back.
"I'm one of the guests of the Suoh-slash-Ootori party," I say and I strain not to snap his neck when he doesn't even look at the reservation and asks me to leave. "Alrighty then. Have you ever heard of Nora and Robert Allenson? They're my guardians. And before you question me, I know both of their credit card numbers, their cell numbers, and their address because I fucking live there. So let me in or may the Lord bless you family that you don't live in one of their apartment complexes." His face turns white and he fumbles to get away from the podium and to lead me to the table. When he leaves, Ootori looks at me with curiousity.
"What did you do to him?" He asks and I smile at him but it's cold, cruel, and calculating.
"I'm not just a nerd with a laptop and a YouTube channel, ya' know," I reply casually as everyone at the table rises to greet me. After a flurry of names and handshakes, I sit down and try not to look up for a while. I feel too awkward without a screen to protect my mouth and an editor or best friend to watch whatever bullshit spews from my mouth.
"So, Marie," a feminine voice draws my attention and I look up to see Mrs. Ootori looking at me with the same fake happiness as Ootori's but hers is colder. "What are your interests other than your technological romps?" I could hear the sarcasm in her voice and I take a sip of my lemonade, calculating what words came out of my mouth.
"I actually do. I'm the one who started the gay-straight alliance at my school next to my friends and with those same passionate people, we began project Let Them Speak which allows troubled teens to call a twenty-four/seven line for any number of reasons. I also play a little bit of piano and spend some of my spare time brushing up on Latin," I reply calmly and then I take another sip of lemonade. My response is met by silence and then I look up at Mrs. Ootori with innocence plastered all over my face. "Other than that, I usually just stay at home and manage my website and write."
"And what do you write?" One of the two guys my age speaks up obviously trying to rid the table of tension. I shrug at his question.
"Anything really. Realistic fiction, historical fiction, non-fiction, scientific fiction, fanfiction, poetry, plays, etcetera. Anything I can think of, I write down so I don't forget it," I answer and my fingers itch to whip out a pack of cigarettes that I don't have because Ally confiscated them again.
"Out of all languages, why Latin? It's a dead language, no?" One of Ootori's kids asks and I smile.
"I have an interest in old texts and transcripts and Latin is my next step to Old English," I reply. "Besides, information is always best when reading the original, right?" The salads are brought over and I raise my fork to stab at the lettuce when a surprising question pounces on my unassuming ass.
"What profession would you like to pursue?" Ootori's oldest kid, I think, asks and I freeze, my fork falling from my loose grip and it makes a loud clang on the surface.
"Shit," I whisper but the youngest Ootori kid arcs an eyebrow and I glower at him for a second and then look at the eldest Ootori son.
"That's a debatable topic in my life," I answer, calculating my answer in my head. "I like blogging and being a vlogger quite a bit so I know that I'll never stop that but it's not practical. I'm not suited for a two-by-four cubicle, nine-to-five kind of person, and I'm not all too talented. My best answer choice at the moment is actually being just a freelance author." He looks surprised and a bit like he just heard a semi-funny joke that he can't laugh about. It takes quite a bit of effort not to throw my half-empty glass of lemonade at his face.
"Writing is a bit unpredictable, isn't it?" Suoh asks and I grip my fork a bit too tightly and then exhale a breath. But instead of calculating or thinking about my responses, I pray a bit, whisper "fuck it" under my breath and then turn to him.
"Because it's a lot more fun than sitting on my butt all day doing something that would make me want to stick pins in my eyes and swallow a ghost chili," I say looking him in the eye and then there's silence at the table yet again.
"It is...more fun?" Mrs. Ootori asks like she's just swallowed something gross and I put my elbow on the table and rest my cheek on my palm because being judged sucks ass and I don't give any shits anymore.
"Yes. It is more fun therefore I will do it. I will be selfish and do what I want because even if I'm ever dirt poor from my poor decisions, at least I can tell my kids that I had a helluva time being a moron in love with their 'job'," I answered and then took a sip of lemonade. "It actually takes a lot of guts to do what one likes and as a great author once wrote 'I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things' and he was also talking about something he loved. So yes, being a writer is more fun, and yes I am not in the business of denying myself of what I like doing." I finish my mini-rant thing right as our server comes over to ask us for our orders. The stupor my words somehow placed on these people lifts and they place their orders and we all continue eating our salads until the Suoh kid asks me about school.
"What's your favorite thing about school, Marie?" He asks as if the whole mini-tirade of mine never existed and I shrug, my face no longer on my palm but my elbow still on the table.
"Um...my world religion class," I answer and I feel all eyes on me. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"What's your favorite thing about this class?" Suoh asks and I cock my head to the side and then shake the feeling of some plan of his is cooking and answer.
"The fact that I get to learn about a lot of religions around the world and how they affect each society separately versus how America's perception on it. It's really cool especially each religion's culture's take on homosexuality," I say, a light smile on my face.
"And what's your view on homosexuality?" Suoh presses and I furrow my brow but answer nonetheless.
"Love is love. Don't hate, just appreciate," I say and then he delves into the topic with me headfirst.
"Tell me, what's you sexuality?" He asks me as the food arrives and I crack a knuckle.
"I am a pansexual," I say as I take my first bite of the pasta I had ordered.
"And that is...?" He asks and I know that he knows but he's just trying to be polite to everyone else at the table.
"Pansexual otherwise a word derived from the term 'pansexuality' whose prefix means 'all' in Greek means that my sexual attraction has zero precent to do with what's in my love interest's pants. I do, however, still feel attraction but for how the person treats me. Basically, my sexuality covers the entire gender spectrum," I explain. "Sometimes, pansexuals call themselves gender blind."
"How did you know that you were first pansexual?" He presses and I realize that I am now trapped. Suoh is smarter than he looks to do this to me. He has managed to trap me within one specific topic and will keep me here until I get angry and honest. A string of curse words fly through my head as I breathe out a sigh.
"When I was about thirteen and realized that looks were never a factor for me in relationships and neither was gender and honestly, personality is the best thing on the planet. Mr. Suoh, when did you realize that you were straight?" I inquire and I hear the other guests choke, wondering how in the hell I had gotten the idea for my question.
"And why must I realize that I am straight?" Suoh asks me apprehensively and the other guests look at me, hoping that I trip over my own words but I simply look up from my food at them.
"Well, a great poem gave me an idea. So here's something that I always throw at people who ask me that question. Why must I prove my love is authentic? Now, I'm going to throw that right back at you because it's not fair if you get to interview me about why I love and how I love. It's your turn to answer me," I reply and I take another bite of pasta. "But the real thing that frustrates me to no end is the fact it's such a hard question to answer. I mean, it's so cut and dry: I'm straight because I like women or I'm straight because I like dudes. Plain and simple. But when a person is gay, they are asked two billion and one questions and even then, people don't believe them. Chew on that for a while and then give me your answer," I reason and then I continue to eat. It's silent at this table until Suoh decides to speak up again.
"It appears that your reputation as an advocate for equal rights is true," Suoh smiles at me and I look at him curiously. "I just knew that you would be an excellent choice for our school. I had to make sure you were solid in all your beliefs and what you stand for otherwise you would be a bit too fragile for our school." My jaw drops and I search for words to describe my emotions.
"Wha...huh...wait...what in the seven levels of hell was that?" I ask and Ootori looks at me with a twinkle in his eye that doesn't make me want to punch him but rather ask him what the hell just happened.
"Mr. Suoh wanted to test you and it appears you passed with flying colors," Ootori says and then I close my mouth and crack a knuckle.
"Alrighty then, but I still want my answer," I grumble and Suoh's eyes twinkle and smiles at me.
"I love women and there is no real explanation for it because it isn't a choice," Suoh answers and I run his response through my mind and I look at him with surprise.
"You've read my blog. That entry was more than four months back," I say and he shrugs.
"I did my research," Suoh replies and I laugh, not harsh but happy, and sigh.
"Okay then. I have a question for Mr. Ootori though," I say, turning to the dark haired man. "When you left my room, you said something about my mom. How did you know her?"
"I met your mother when I was travelling around Asia looking at medical school that were under the Ootori Scholariship program," he explains and I briefly remember my mother mentioning saving some great business conglomerate's son from doing something stupid.
"You were that guy..." I trail off as he looks at me curiously and I look down, hoping he doesn't ask for my rendition of the story.
"So she told you about me?" He asks and I almost laugh out loud.
"She told me about a guy who almost got his sorry ass kicked because he got so fucking lost and then managed to offend some locals," I say and then slap a hand to my mouth. "Erm...sorry about that." Ootori simply nods.
"I suppose that is how Deborah would describe the situation," he mumbles and I cock an eyebrow and stifle my laugh behind my hand. "Anyway, I had made her a promise that I would help either her or her family should I ever hear about her again. Mr. Suoh just happened to mention your name and I looked you up on the internet and you look so similar to your mother so I just had to know. It seems I'm right. I will be your sponsor if you decide to go to "
"Okay, the promise part I get but why not my sister? She's got immense talent and has been in zero trouble since the day she's been on this planet. Plus she's the cutest thing to hit this planet since Meep from Phineas and Ferb," I reason and Ootori puts his hands on the table after the plates are gone, his fingers in a steeple shape.
"See, that's one of the reasons I cannot ask your sister. She is fine and successful and the promise I made your mother was if any of her family was having...trouble," Ootori says and I freeze in all movement.
"So you're trying to tell me that I'm troubled? Really? One of the largest medical conglomerates in the fucking world and you come up with freaking 'trouble'. If it hasn't occurred to you, I tried to burn my own house down, I've been dead for a total of seven minutes, I'm on more than one kind of medication for both depression and sleep and the antidepressants are halfway to the sewage plant by now. I can't even get up some days. So yeah, if you're gonna be that kind of person who sugars the situation, I am troubled," I say, my voice not cracking and not a single pause in my syntax because I had said this so many times before to people who decided to pity me. I don't want pity. I need someone to push me to do the things I don't want to do. Not someone who will coddle and hold me and cover my eyes and ears all throughout the ordeal.
"Alright then," Ootori says and then leans forward. "I do know that you are a manic depressive teenager who has been through one thing after another. You also suffer from sleep deprivation but according to your blog - yes I read through it - you deprive yourself of sleep which is a form of self harm. I know that you have been declared legally dead on three different occasions and have been admitted to the hospital for malnutrition and sleep deprivation more than five times. I know that you have quite the collection of scars all over your body as a result of your depression," at this everyone at the table looks at me and I make no move to cover the scars on my neck. "But your past is no excuse for your decisions now. I want to help you but you have to stop being a selfish brat for awhile for that to happen." The words didn't sting but they rang true in my ears and I fight the urge to smile at the man who had hit the nail on the head.
"Well, you sure do your research," I say as I get up from the table. "I accept your offer to go to your school. And I accept your help. Thank you." I call over my shoulder as I leave the restaurant. "Oh, and tell the host I didn't mean a thing that I said."
After getting into my room, I drop onto my bed and think about the offer of a lifetime I was jut given. I accepted help. Happily. Because someone offered it properly. Thank the gods. I remember the look on all their faces and kind of laugh about the two guys who were my age and their faces they made. What really boggles my mind was that the youngest Ootori hadn't said shit. He just sat there observing everyone. A black notebook next to his plate and his fingers were always itching to reach for the pen in his front pocket. The other one, the blonde, was obviously his best friend the way he kept glancing at his dark haired friend next to him as if to say "Start talking dumbass!" They were complete opposites yet they were good friends in the sense. They balanced each other out.
I put my hand up and look at my five fingers and the empty spaces in between. I guess it is time for a change. New school. New people. New culture. New country. Let's do this Marie.
hey there guys! it's Zari! I know this fic came as a surprise but damn, this idea has already put up roots in my head and I couldn't sleep last night until I wrote it down. So here you go. a new fic to help y'all while some of you wait for Building Blocks to be updated because I'm a moron. I hope you liked it. please give me feedback. don't flame or be an ass about it. please be nice. review. favorite and follow and all the stuff if you want to know what happens to Marie. :)
~Zari-chan
P. S. I kept writing it as Mr. Suoh or Ootori because when someone speaks English, they don't add the honorifics...right? I feel like an ignorant ass for saying that. Message me if you think otherwise please. Thanks.