Note: A bit of Matt's background. He ages throughout the story.
TWs: Lying/manipulation/being used, spreading accusations, and a roof/standing on a ledge. Stay safe :)

Matt was homeschooled when he was a child, never knowing what it was like to be in a public setting. He had asked his mother if he could go to a public school, only for her to dismiss him. He had never understood why his mom hesitated to place him in a public setting.

That was until he finally got to experience it firsthand.

It was Year 8; Matt was 12 and finally got to participate in school. He was ecstatic as his mother fetched an outfit for him and helped him with his contacts.

"Here's your lunch." Cynthia smiled as she handed him his lunchbox, "Oh, and extra money just in case."

He took the money, seeing that it was about 50 pounds, "Thanks, Mum!"

Matt went on his way, enjoying his first year of middle school and even making a few friends. The ginger was known for being charismatic, charming, and talkative. He made friends effortlessly, and no one seemed to oppose him.

Before starting Year 9, he had invited his close group of friends to his house for his 13th birthday. He had never told them he lived in a mansion or was rich. They took it seemingly well, but oblivious, Matt never noticed the looks they were giving each other throughout the party.

His friends' parents didn't care about where they went as long as they were home before curfew. Matt, however, always told his mom where he was going before leaving the house.

He was lagging behind his friends, admiring a few ladies' outfits, as he heard one of his friends, we'll call him Friend A, speak, "Hey, the new Vampire Slayer came out!"

Matt perked up, grinning as he ran to the window display, "Really!? VSIII is out!?"

Seeing the price for it, the ginger took out the money he had, counting the pounds.

"Hah, I have enough!" He jumped, going into the store and grabbing a copy. Friend A also took one off the shelf. Matt placed the game before the cashier, quickly paying for it.

His friend, however, placed the game by the register, digging through his pockets as he looked for his money, "Ah, oh no, it appears I've left my money... at home."

Matt frowned before glancing at his game. He had used all his allowance to buy it, but he didn't want one of his friends to be sad.

Despite Friend A's obviously bad acting, Matt gave him his copy, saying he could buy another.

Friend A glanced at the others as Matt got distracted with something else; they all seemed to have the same idea, smiling to themselves.

Matt hadn't realized that his friends saw him as more of a 'wallet' than their 'friend.' He had just assumed they were forgetful, and it was a coincidence that they all had no money to buy the things they wanted.

"Sorry, guys, looks like I'm out of allowance," Matt spoke, frowning.

"What?" Friend B crossed his arms, "That's lame."

"It is what it is. I'll get my allowance at the end of the week, although I doubt I can keep paying for you guys and your expensive taste." Matt chuckled, only stopping when he saw that his friends weren't amused. He frowned, wondering if he could ask his mother for more allowance.

When he brought the idea up to his mom, she stopped what she was working on.

"A raised allowance...?" Cynthia raised an eyebrow, taking off her cat-eye reading glasses, "You get a hundred pounds every week; why on Earth would you need it raised?"

"I spend most of it on my friends; they always seem to forget their money at home, so I help them," Matt replied.

"Your friends... the same ones you invited here for your birthday?" Cynthia winced as Matt nodded, "Are you sure they're your friends because they care about you? Or are they your friends because you have a lot of money?"

"What do you mean?"

"There are people in this world who are... not nice. People who abuse others' kindness and pure hearts. With kids, it's the parent's fault for not raising them properly, or the child didn't have proper support growing up." Cynthia tried to explain.

"Oh..." Matt deflated, looking down.

"I can speak to their parents-"

"No, no, I can do it!" Matt shook his head.

"Oh, if you say so, sweetie... just know you can tell me anything." His mother smiled.

"I know."

Matt and his 'friends' went out to eat as soon as he got his allowance. As soon as the ginger told them, the others wanted to go to the diner.

'Looking back on it, they were a bit obvious...' He thought, sipping his milkshake.

"Ah shoot, I don't have my wallet." Friend A stated as he looked at the cheque. His other friends followed, saying the same things with the same excuses.

"Oh well, guess we're not paying." Matt shrugged, swirling his straw in his shake.

"What?" B glared at Matt.

"I'm not paying." The ginger scowled, then peered at C, "And I saw yourwallet earlier, you liar!"

"Uh- wha-" C twitched in his chair.

Friend C was forced to pay for their meal, and Matt refused to pay for anything his 'friends' wanted for the rest of the week.

It was the middle of December when they came up to Matt in the middle of the courtyard, accusing him of things he never did, such as the time he tackled A on purpose when they were playing soccer or when he told C he was an idiot for not knowing how to do basic algebra, or when he forced B to pay for his meal.

He never did any of those things. They had all done those to him.

The whole school caught wind of this, and everyone started talking about it. Matt liked attention, but not the kind that humiliated him.

His mother started worrying when she noticed her son would eat less breakfast before going to school. He would only take a few bites, and that was it.

She would've talked to him sooner about it, but she was busy with the Spring Collection she was making, and Matt knew this. He wanted to not go to school anymore, but once he saw how occupied his mother was with the collection, he decided to suck it up and keep going.

He managed to get through middle school, barely passing. It was primarily because of his trouble with maths; he sucked at it.

Going into Year 10, Matt expected things to be different. He had convinced his mom to let him go to a school farther away than the closest one, wishing he wouldn't see his ex-friends again.

He also had a wardrobe change. Keeping his colored contacts, Matt changed his usual lavender hoodie for a black one instead. This time, he was hoping he wouldn't stand out.

'Okay, you got this...' He hyped himself up as he stepped into the school. He kept his head low, making his way to the locker he was assigned to.

His day was going smoothly so far; some of his teachers he enjoyed while others not so much.

It was lunchtime, and Matt was wondering where he was going to eat. He wasn't feeling the cafeteria, but somewhere more quiet instead.

He saw a door that said 'Roof Access.' Trying the handle, Matt found it was locked. Figures, it was a roof, after all. The ginger decided to check out the library instead.

Matt had spent a few weeks in this high school and found he liked it. Though he had no friends, he still enjoyed it. He still wished he had someone to talk to instead of the mirror in his locker.

He really needed to stop talking to the mirror.

A month later, Matt was on his way to the library again since he wanted to be somewhere quieter for lunch when he saw the door to the roof had been propped open with a stopper.

'Huh, that door's usually locked.' He thought as he glanced around. Seeing no one, Matt entered the stairwell, going up the stairs.

He entered out onto the roof, gazing at the scenery. He stopped once he saw someone else on the awning.

Another student stood before him, standing on the ledge in a black hoodie. He had caramel hair in the shape of horns, intriguing Matt.

The person appeared to be examining something, which calmed Matt, except he was still standing on the ledge.

"Ingenting... hvorfor sendte han meg her?" He muttered, humming. He turned around, stopping when he saw Matt, "Ah- uh- who are you?"

His voice seemed hesitant and unsure of himself, but the look on his face was full of confidence.

"I'm Matt. Matt Hathaway." The ginger spoke, "What's your name?"

"Name's Tord." The other frowned, "Just Tord."

After a moment of silence, the stranger stepped off the ledge and back onto the roof.

"If you'll excuse me," Tord spoke, pushing past Matt to go back inside.

Matt hummed as he watched the other leave, 'He seems interesting.'

The ginger knew he wanted Tord to be his friend, and Matt always got his way, one way or another.

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Norwegian =
Ingenting - Nothing
Hvorfor sendte han meg her - Why did he send me here

(Translations brought to you by Google Translate)