I wake the next morning to Heavy Metal music blasting in my ears, I groan and pull my headphones out, pulling myself out of bed slowly. I’m an 11th grader in a big ‘ghetto’ high school. I take accelerated classes and am ultimately alone in my taste in fashion, and music. People around me might like similar bands as me but if they do they aren’t as enthusiastic as I am and they certainly don’t dress like it. So I hang out with four guys who have a band. Kellen, Elliot, Steven and John. They listen to things like Green day and Classic rock. I guess it’s the closest thing to Punk and Metal around here. They’re cool but I annoy them and they just tolerate me.
I stumble over to my closet like I’m sloppy drunk and get dressed in a Peirce the Veil shirt and red pants, with all black converse. I hurry out of the house, dodging my mom grabbing a breakfast-to-go bar on the way.

“Hey Ginger!” I call when I see Steven by the big sign in front of our school that reads CENTRAL HIGH SCHOOL.
You could identify him anywhere by his red hair and ‘big bones’. The rest of the guys stand next to him, I walk over and watch Kellen and John play a stupid little game where they follow a couple of people walking and sing the pink panther theme gradually getting louder until they are acknowledged when as soon as they do they turn on their heels walking the opposite direction pretending it never happened.
I plug my headphones in and stand next to Steven silently not wanting to make an ass of myself today. I watch Kellen and daydream. I’ve had a crush on him since I was in eighth grade. He’s so cute and quirky. He’s sarcastic but in a funny way and is lanky but in the cute way, he plays Bass. For some reason for me that makes a perfect guy. I smile to myself as My Dear - new years day comes on, my anthem for thinking about him. My trance is suddenly broken when a boy Ben walks by and bumps me hard I drop my textbook.
“Hey watch it.” I snap. He laughs at me.
“You’re the one who got in my way slut.” He laughs and keeps walking
“Who are you seriously calling slut.” I mutter under my breath. He turns to face me for a minute then speaks.
“I’m calling you a slut because you can’t seem to keep your hands off people!...” Whoa he’s having a bad day “… I mean you dress like one. Everything you wear practically screams I’ll give you a blowjob for a burger. I mean who wears all black and gets their lip pierced and listens to your kind of shit music like Peirce the Veil and Suicide Silence and expects people to not think of them like that.”
I feel my face get red and angry, I HATE it when people call my music shit. Especially when they don’t know what they’re talking about.