They were in their usual spots, nestled proudly in the center of the cafeteria as if they were a performance to be watched, and in a way, they were, making no motion to conceal their vibrant conversation as he could hear their laughter from were he stood, even over the pressing chatter around him. Stepping forward, Dash made note of the feeling of paper in his fist, grasped tightly within his jacket pocket as he began to close the gap between the table and himself.

He could worry about that later.

Right now, he needed to eat.

He REALLY needed to.

Feeling the curse of his hunger, its angry song, grow louder, sing louder, in his gut.

But he could ignore it for a little longer, even as his body, his mind began to feel lighter, fuzzier.

Standing as tall as he could, Dash grimaced at his clumsy steps, his

Of course, this wasn't without some glancing his way, and he straightened his back and widened his stride in kind.

Can't have anyone seeing him do otherwise, looking small...weak.

He wasn't weak.

No.

He wasn't.

Gripping his bag with his opposite hand and shuffling it along his shoulder, he went to sigh but pressed his lips and flashed a snide grin at one of the students to his left, minding the way that their eyes practically clawed at him with something he couldn't describe before they left his sight. He didn't know why, but they looked sort of familiar, but then again, the teen thought with a half joking, but all the same solemn tone, there were probably a lot of students, and if Falluca were any reminder, teachers, too, that didn't really like him all too much.

'Who can blame them when I pull stuff like...that?' In a blink, he tried to adjust his pants leg, subtly pulling at the helm of fabric at the tightness that said below his waist.

'You could make yourself feel better, you know.'

'Just pull it out and-'

'Ugh, shut-up! I'm trying to think!' God, they were annoying.

Maybe he wouldn't hear them if he stuck a pencil in his ears. Yeah...then they'd shut-up.

...

Dash shook the thought away, feeling a bit sick at the mention of it.

'It''s fine. Everything is just fine. If I ignore it long enough, it'll probably just fix itself, or something.' Watching the group from here, he tried to focus on something else, and it struck him, as minded their smiles and laughter over the blaring voices about the steel tables and chairs, how he didn't seem to belong with them at all.

It was a split second that he'd look down at himself, combing his own clothing for the flawless touches that the others seemed to have, and he could never find. Even as kids, in those delicate years preceding these, he noticed it: their pretty hair, their lovely clothes, their beautiful skin. Kwan, Star, Paulina, and Dale were, as silly as he thought it sounded now that hindsight could be seen, shiny, something precious and amazing that seemed...duller, at least, when he was around.

At some point in his youth, he could vaguely recall, asking his parents if he was pretty, too.

And it was precisely at this moments, much like many others, that he shouldn't have expected much more. and that he didn't deserve to anyway.

They made certain to make as explicit as they could that he was as he already thought he was.

Disgusting, ugly, smelly, dirty, and how could he not believe it when it looked back at him each and every time he found his reflection. His eyes bulged, hair too greasy, clothes ragged and worn; the answer was already blindingly clear, but somewhere in him, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was, knew that it was, but his parents, the voices...

They always made sure to remind him, and then, he would do the same.

That's why it didn't feel so bad when he would hurt-

Well, never mind.

That didn't matter so much.

It wasn't as if anyone would care anyway, and besides, his friends could be helpful a lot, you know? They'd tell him when he smelled bad so he could know how far away he'd have to sit from others, or how yellow and crooked his teeth were so he could know to smile without opening his mouth, or how they'd laugh when he didn't come to school and ask for food, that way he'd know not to ask anymore.

They were helping him.

His parents, his teachers, too.

That's what you do for people that you care about, you know? You tell them things, even if it hurts a lot.

There was a creeping feeling of fear crawled up his back as the four of them waved and watched him sit, and the teen laid his items along the ground beside them, allowing them to drop with a hapless thump before opening it and rummaging through its contents, taking the slip from his pocket and throwing it into the deepest corner the bag could manage, closing it up and sealing it back. Dash tried to ignore the feeling of them staring at him, shuffling his clothes to mask a scent that he was sure that they could smell, and smiled at the four of them.

'You always smell, so what else is new?'

'They can tell it's you.'

'You smell like shit.'

'Yeah, I...I do.' His smile faltered.

He lifted a section of his black shirt, taking a whiff before releasing it.

The boy tried his best to stay at least relatively clean, just a bit tidy, despite any and all evidence to the contrary.

His parents were really touchy, though, about the rules. Some said things about what he was allowed to wear, others about what he had to do when he was home, but it was never an issue about what it was that he was expected to look like, to smell like. His mother was the same way, he knew, the woman going several days, perhaps even a week at a time before entertaining the idea of cleaning herself, though he could recall several reasons why that might be the case, figuring that she'd rather be getting high then freshening up at all. Some time ago, he thought he would mention it, at least, to make it known to her.

'Maybe she doesn't know?,' He would think innocently, and though the rules always said to never speak unless you're spoken to, he sort of forgot about it for a moment, you know? But he really should have been more careful, more considerate, taking in the burning sting of his cheek as a sign that he should keep his mouth shut. So he didn't mention it again...

Ever.

He could only imagine that she didn't take too kindly to her son telling her that she smelled bad.

Of course she would be angry.

But he never really had anyone to tell him how to do it, to get nice and clean and things like that, you know? He knew the basics: wipe back to front, clean your face and armpits, stuff like that. Of course, thought with a sense of irritation, mostly at himself, he couldn't quite get the smell to go away, even when he scrubbed really, really hard. He figured it was his clothes, maybe, the rank articles only switched out every so often when he got the chance to use his Dad's clothes, which was a privelage all on its own. His father was nice enough to let him use his clothes, his stuff, when his got too bad, too...messy.

Sometimes, he would take a little bit of soap and water and clean off the worst spots, cleaning them the best that he could.

It worked well enough...or at least, just enough to where his clothes were slightly less...dingy.

But they were well worn! He should be grateful for the things that he had received already. He had a few shirts, some pants, even a couple pairs of underwear he got from the GoodWill! Mom had been nice enough to get him a pair with what was left over of her spending money. They were small, a bit too small, but he still managed to squeeze into them well enough.

He was just glad that he had any at all.

But...those were hardest to clean.

He could never quite get the smell out.

Or maybe it was...him.

Sometimes, he could remember with stunning recollection, just how often he would just...not clean himself? Now, it wasn't like he didn't want to, or that he didn't like to be, but sometimes, it was just...just really hard to find the energy to do it. Like, he just...couldn't.

Like his body weighed a thousand pounds, and he just didn't have the strength to lift it.

It made him want to do...nothing.

Absolutely...nothing.

Luckily, on those days, when he found the energy to pull himself from his sleeping space, he would just spray a little of father's cologne and go about his day.

That was enough, he figured, that is, until others began to notice it.

Notice the stench that seemed to radiate from his skin, from his clothes, his...everything. Hell, even some of the teachers had taken notice of it, offering him trips to the nurse and office to get him a change of clothes each day, back in elementary school, something that felt like forever ago. Of course, not all of the smell went away, but it definitely helped, but the other students didn't care for his new outfits, either, them either being too big, too small, or anywhere in-between. It was the object of amusement to see Dash leave one class one way and return another way, and rumor began to spread that he had been too poor to get his own clothes, that he didn't know how to wash himself, that he liked to smell bad.

He fought every one of the accusations, but it was only a matter of time before his parents would get involved.

He couldn't remember exactly how it had started.

His father showing up to school, giving him changes to clothing, angry phone calls with the school, a few visits to the office. The boy figured that he had worn out the staff and principal, he figured that they thought he wasn't worth the effort that would be needed to fight off his father, not that he could blame them. His dad always got his way; there was no way that they would be able to win against him.

Then all he had left were the few things he had to begin with, most hand-me-downs from his father when they became too worn, even for him.

Scraps that he couldn't be bothered to wear.

As a matter of fact, the boy started, looking down at his own outfit, remarking the odd stains and washed-out appearance of his clothes, he wondered if it were time to change it up a bit.

"Yo, Dash! Long time no see! Where were you, man? We were waiting for you, but you missed, like, half of lunch." Turning his head to where Dale's voice called to him, he'd hardly had time to make sense of the apple core that left the former's hand and collided with his forehead, the others laughing as he recoiled before nervously dropping his shoulders, feeling his entire body tense at the sound and feeling of the sudden contact of the mostly eaten fruit.

And they laughed...and laughed...and laughed.

He hid the furious bloom that rushed along his cheeks, chuckling, going to pick up the apple core to toss back, at least, that's what he intended to do, but his stomach said otherwise, gazing at the saliva-coated remains with some degree of desire as he tried to form a plan to eat it without them noticing him gnawing on it.

It could be done, right?

Turned away from the table, the core having bounced a good distance away from the table, they couldn't see him bring the fruit up to his mouth.

Just a little bite wouldn't hurt, and if he spaced it out enough, he figured as he tried to choose the spot with the most apple left over, they wouldn't notice him.

He was just so hungry.

So...fucking...hungry.

He took a few tentative licks and nibbles on the remains before putting it into his pocket, relishing the bitter taste on his tongue from the sour bits, and recalling the little snack that he'd brought from home, he dug into his bag's front pocket to reveal the scant amount of nuts in that little baggy, itself clouded with filth that even the teen couldn't identify.

He was fine with it, though the others, noticing the small rations and the bag it had come in, chuckled at it, though none of them went to touch it.

It was probably too dirty for them.

'Yeah, you fucking dirty little shit.'

'No wonder no wants anything to do with you except when their fucki-'

"Eating light again, huh? You act as though you don't like food or somethin'." It was Dale, again, his tone a mix between amusement and confusion, but Dash didn't look up at his face to confirm it.

Star chimed in, a coy smile plastered on upon her features.

"Yeah, you always bring weird stuff to lunch: bread, crackers, hell, I think you brought something like tuna fish one time, right Kwan? That was so weird." They all laughed.

Laughing, laughing, laughing as he crushed the meager portions in his fist.

Yeah, that was weird, wasn't it?

But he couldn't manage much more than this, most times less.

His parents worked really hard, and they liked to to buy things to feel good and stuff, so he tried not to ask them for money. Who was he to ask, you know? He was lucky enough to get even this bit, he wanted to tell them, but for some reason didn't, resorting to looking down at the bag in his hands.

Of course he couldn't ask them for more, he thought.

What made him good enough to even think to do that?

That would be against the rules.

Sometimes they would, you know, get really angry when, or if, he did try, not that he could blame them.

They had already given him so much, so much more than he could ask for, so he was mostly mad at himself for even considering doing so; how could he have been so selfish?

They were trying their hardest, and here he was, thinking about himself.

So he found what he could, and he brought it with him. Scraps, odds, and ends that he could find at home, some in the cafeteria when students left their trays on the tables (though that was a bit harder when his friends or teachers were around), and sometimes, just sometimes, he could find so pretty good stuff in the trash cans around the school. Candy wrappers, leftover sandwichs, even full fruits if he were lucky.

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, Dash...," Kwan was looking at him, staring at him. His eyes darted from the peanuts back to him, and the peanuts again. Sighing, he cleared his throat, and began to speak, and Dash felt his heart lurch with anticipation.

"...do you want me to see if the lines are still open? I could get you something. Like, some chips or something?" Immediately, Paulina chimed in, her face worn with mild annoyance, stunting Dash's eager bid to say yes, holding back the urge to smile at the thought of something else to eat.

"Kwan, you did that basically every day last year. Please don't tell me that you're gonna do it again? Like, he shouldn't be going around expecting people to feed him or whatever when he can do it himself." Star nodded her head, sipping her can of soda before placing it back onto the table.

Expecting people? Expecting people to...to help him?

He had never...he would never...

Clutching the bag in his harder, he bit his lip again, harder this time until he could feel blood begin to pool into the cavity of his mouth.

Kwan had always done it because he asked him, not the other way around, and believe him, he didn't like when he did.

He didn't want him to help.

He didn't like to feel the way he did right now.

Needy...pitied.

He hated pity.

He didn't want it.

Even if his stomach disagreed.

"Guys, look, it's fine. I want to do this. So, did you want me to-" Kwan was stopped mid-sentence by his smile, though it felt strangely empty on his face.

"Nope, I'm good. I've got somethin' right here, and I'm not really that hungry anyway." That wasn't true at all.

He felt ill, absolutely fucking sick with hunger.

For a second, he almost considered caving and taking his offer, or even snatching away their bags and rooting through their scraps if only to stave off the horrible pain that made him want to scream.

But there was no reason to act as pathetic as he looked, and besides, it wasn't as if he deserved the help.

"I mean, if you're sure, then fine, I guess." Turing back to the others, Kwan didn't look back at him, relenting to his insistence that he was fine, but Dash didn't miss expression on his face.

He never did.

Not when it could be the difference of him getting beaten to a bloody pulp or getting what he figured was a slap on the wrist.

Expressions meant everything.

So no, he couldn't miss those sorts of things.

So why did he look disgusted with him?

"Anyway, before you came, we were just catching up on what we did during the summer. You missed some of it, so did you want to hang out after-school? Paulina and I totally nailed our beauty exams, and Kwan is super confident that he's gonna ace the SAT this year. There's so much to talk about!" She finished with a flick of her hair, and they all looked at him expectantly.

Stared at him as his jaw clenched, biting that same lip that became sore under his teeth.

'No, no. I can't do that today. I'm already going to be in trouble as it is. What am I gonna do?' Rubbing his wrists, his eyes tracked the expectant faces of his peers.

He could lie.

That would be easiest, wouldn't it?

'Yeah, do that!? If you do, then they'll leave you alone.'

'It's not like you wouldn't get in trouble anyway. Daddy's gonna fuck you up; might as well have fun with it.'

But...they were his friends. The last thing he would want to do is lie, and he wanted to go; it had been an entire summer since the last time they'd seen or talked. Who knew when they would see each other next?

But Mom and Dad would be mad.

Really, really mad, and that isn't even mentioning the fact that he already had a detention and it was just the first day.

Wait, he hadn't responded yet, had he? Looking at the various faces around him, and sighed, widening his grin as he met their eyes.

"Uh, actually, guys, I have to...stay after. Detention in ISS today for,-" A flash of his attempt on Falluca flashed across his eyes, but Star cut him off, already returning his grin with a snarky smile.

"...for not turning in a project or something, right? We figured you wouldn't do it from the start, right Kwan? Looking over the other, she missed his very panicked glance at Dash, noticing that he, too, had went silent, but what he couldn't see was the squirming mass of self-loathing and shock that writhed beneath the former's skin.

Were they that convinced of his incompetence?

Just as he went to speak again, he stopped short when the ground below them trembled terribly beneath their feet, stealing the words from his throat as the student body began to move to the exits as a bit of a panic set in. Dale was first from the table, pulling Star along as they ditched their belongings, Kwan and Paulina following suit along with other students, leaving Dash to linger behind, eying their remaining food.

Surely they wouldn't notice if he just took a piece or two, right?

He'd just managed to move Paulina's scraps in his sight when Dale looked back, urging him to come along.

One last look to the leftovers and he stood, following suit.

Oceans of students were trekking down the hallway, despite the commands of teachers that demanded they go the opposite way, but most didn't do so, tracking the sound to the auditorium where more and more of the student body began to get rowdy, some speaking quietly amongst themselves, others yelling as they neared the source of the sounds, appearing more like fighting and explosions then what was, initially, more akin to an earthquake.

They came upon the doors of the Auditorium, and most students piled up at the doors, looking into the windows and collectively, a wave o f activity uttered two words that Dash felt his heart flutter at.

Danny Phantom.