Outsiders

Summary: Sion, Remy and Ronee have nothing in common. Except… Four-chaptered OneShot.

Warnings: Experiment. I never used this point of view before.

Set: Story-unrelated, before Vol1

Disclaimer: Standards apply. No, I'm not Svetlana Chmakova. If I was, I would be drawing, not writing.

I.

You don't hate this place.

Instead of being at home all by yourself, you would rather be here, even if you don't feel like you belong.

Which is strange, regarding your status here.

Every school is similar and you've seen many schools. Funny how your life sometimes seems to be like one of some of the children you've seen on human TV sometimes, when you were younger and there was nothing to do and too much loneliness to bear in order to not turn on the apparatus. In human schools, you've learned, it always is the same: there is the clique of the cool but brainless guys, and the pretty but dumb girls. There are the nerds everyone ignores and the outsiders nobody cares for.

You are pretty and that's your advantage. Your looks. Your hair is flame-colored, your eyes are bright green and your face is even and expressive. You aren't tall but you have a nice figure. Actually, you're not pretty. You are beautiful.

Which makes you, per definition, head of the "pretty but dumb"-clique.

How conveniently reality fits the dreams of countless humans.

The girls around you – the girls that call themselves your friends – giggle and toss their hair back as Nicholas passes. As always, the vampire attempts a flirt but you show him you're not interested and he directs his attention towards the rest of the girls. They all are moderately to averagely pretty. They cluster around you, follow you wherever you go and do as you say and because it seems it is just the way it is supposed to be you let them do so. You sit at one certain table in the cafeteria every day, listen to the giggling and babbling, cooing and flirting going on around you and wonder why it feels so strange. So wrong. But nobody seems to notice, so it must be you. And because there is nobody you can talk to about that topic you don't talk about it at all.

Life is easy for you, the way it is now. You go to school, hang out with a horde of girls who try to look remotely sexy. You float through the lessons and along the packed corridors, only listening with half an ear to Verena and Marika talking about their newest outfits and oh god, what should I wear for Nic's birthday party? His parents are out and he's going to throw a huge party, everyone will be there – even a werewolf, I heard, they say he is soooo good-looking… Your astral wraps around your shoulders, feeling the uneasiness inside you, and you pet it lovingly but your thoughts are entirely elsewhere.

Today is just like any other day.

And then it happens.

The moment you and your… friends, for the lack of a better word, reach the cafeteria, you notice there is a girl sitting at the table. You frown and Marika and Verena, Leslie and all the others immediately descend onto the poor newcomer with the fury of the just. First, they surround the girl, their hands in their hips, the most arrogant and self-righteous expression on their faces they can muster.

"What do you think you are doing here?" Marika asks. The girl looks up from the book she is reading, surprised and frightened at once, and almost knocks off her own glasses when Verena snatches away the book.

"Have you heard her, new girl? Answer!"

"I… I… I was just looking for a table to sit…", the girl stutters. She's one of the typical girls to be bullied. You have known right from the moment you have seen her and you know what will happen next. You have seen the play so many times you know it by heart.

"Well, did we invite you to sit with us?"

"N-No, but…"

"What? You think we want someone like you at our table?" The girl looks at the newcomer haughtily, takes in her artlessly plaited hair, her blouse and her skirt. She's not dressed shabby, you think, but simply… simple.

"Does your grandma know you wear her skirts?" Leslie asks and all the girls snicker. The girl with the glasses blushes deep red and gets up so fast she almost knocks over her tray.

"Okay, I'll…"

"Wait." Verena, grinning dangerously, grabs her ponytail and makes her flinch. "I think you need a reminder of what you've done wrong so you won't repeat it in the future… What do you think? Could she use a new haircut?" Her hand flashes and then, there are blue flames dancing in her palm. You react instinctively.

"Stop it."

All the girls freeze.

"But, Sion, she…"

"I don't care about her. Let her go."

Verena pouts but lets the girl's hair go. She disappears quickly, snatching up her tray and her book and making a run for safety. There are tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you let us play with her?" Marika demands. "She was sitting at our table!"

"She's not any more", you cut in and because you're their leader they shut up and don't question your actions anymore. Instead, they start talking about Nic's party again and you have time to wonder what happened before.

Why did you save the girl?

It's not like you care about her. She's just a new kid. She'll learn soon that there are social classes and distinctions in every school and she'll know her place soon. You don't care about Verena either, about her or about her getting detention as soon as Mrs. Murray finds out what she has done. Actually there is not much you care about in this school you figure and warily watch the other tables, not interested in participating in the ongoing discussion about guys, shoes and clothes. At another table, you catch the eye of a dark-haired girl who is watching you intently. You ignore her.

What are you doing here?

It's not the first time you ask yourself this question and as always, the obvious answer comes to your mind directly.

You're the high school queen.

Every guy secretly dreams of undressing you right then and there. Every girl wants to have your looks. Nerds want to be as popular as you are; outsiders wish to have your status in the school's community.

You feel like you are the greatest outsider in the entire school.

You're not only pretty, you are intelligent, as well. You are highly intelligent. You have amazing magic skills and your astral is almost at university level, something few people have reached if they had lessons with Mrs. Murray and weren't home-schooled like you were before you entered Benjamin Theron High. The classes you have don't help much to entertain you, most of the subjects you already know. Your parents might have seldom been home but they have undertaken everything to have their only daughter educated the way the heiress of their little family empire is supposed to be educated. The only lesson you really enjoy is Mr. Roi's advanced spell class. Nobody of your clique is in this class, so here is your chance to be someone else. Unfortunately, the other students don't forget you are the queen and treat you accordingly. So you just sit there, take notes and enjoy the complex assignments the mage gives to your class and for once, here, you are an outsider and not an outsider disguised as a popular student.

After class, you go back into your world of faked glitter and glamour, popularity and stupidity and loneliness, and you're glad, at least, that you're not sitting at home alone, staring at a TV screen or setting on fire random things.

Why you feel the way you feel, you cannot say.

Maybe it is just that you are strange. You have everything those humans from those silly TV shows have: Your parents have influence and power. You have everything you want, clothes and money and parties and magic and fun. You are the head of the most popular clique in school and every girl dreams of being like you (what the guys dream, you don't want to know). You are beautiful and intelligent. You are obviously not an outsider.

But you feel like one.

You feel like something is missing. You just can't find what it is.

Why?