What happens when Scarlett Clayton's mom decides she wants a change and moves to NJ? First fanfic, terribly cheesy altogether, please refrain from laughing, just to spare my feeling. ^.^
I was hardly upset about leaving. I had plenty of friends and a buzzing social life back in Dublin, but I never connected with people. I still don't know if that's something to do with the people I know, or some deep-rooted behavioural problem of mine. I stuck out among my friends. They were glamorous, had a penchant for fake tan, foundation and expensive clothes. I however, am quite content with a stick of eyeliner and clothes I pick up in charity shops. They had highlighted hair which cost a bomb to maintain, my hair was dyed bright blue, from a box of cheap home dye.
So now I'm here, facing the door, about to register, 10 minutes late (hardly out of character), coffee mug in hand (balls, I meant to finish it before I left). I walk in, where I'm met by a scrawny woman with a harsh, cold face. She barks at me, telling me that I don't have all day. She hands me a locker combination, a declaration of the school rules, and a timetable. Double music first. Awesome.
I skim through the school rules as I wander down the corridor, trying to find my room. No smoking, minimal eye and lip cosmetics and no unnatural hair colours. Balls to that. I eventually find the room, and knock timidly, poking my head around the door. An ageing, gentle looking hippie lady with multiple facial piercings greets me. I ask whether or not this is music class 12a, to which she responds affirmatively, rushing me in and asking me to introduce myself. I felt confident once more.
So okay everyone, my name is Scarlett, I'm from Dublin in Ireland, I drink far too much coffee, I play guitar and cello (cue interest from teacher). I tried to start a punk band back home, but couldn't find any other musicians where I lived. I listen to quite a bit of punk and metal, and dreary British pop music. And no, I'm not a natural blue.
Most remained quiet, some sniggered at my alien accent, and some glared at me. Oh well. Everyone was playing an instrument at this point, so I picked up one of the pretty Gibsons, which were in a row in the corner (this school is unreal!), and started strumming the intro to Astros Zombies. On my own, which wasn't typical of me. As the vocals were meant to kick in, I heard a guy singing...
"With a touch of my burning hand, I send my Astros Zombies to rape this land. I join in... "Prime directive: exterminate the whole human race"...
I continue to play my ass off until the end of the first chorus. I turn around to take a glimpse of this evident fellow Misfits fan. I momentarily stop breathing. He's amazing. Tall, unnaturally pale, black long hair, pale lips, and soft hazel eyes with speckles of gold and black. I stutter. I proceed to kick myself. Awh fuck, am I staring? Yes. Stop it Scarlett. Retain decorum. Fuck sake, retain some bloody self respect!
"Sorry, is this music class 12a?", I hear a small voice chime. I don't take any notice. I hear Mrs. Delamonte asking her to introduce herself.
So okay everyone, my name is Scarlett, and I'm from Dublin in Ireland". Her once small, heavily accented voice had taken on a sudden burst of confidence. She sounded energetic.
I drink too much coffee, I play guitar and cello, and I tried to start a punk band, but couldn't find any other musicians. I finally look up and catch a glimpse of this girl. Wow. She was beautiful. She was tiny, like a little pixie, probably 4"9 or 10. She was porcelain pale, with shocking, electric blue hair, in a short messy crop. My focus moved from her delicately beautiful face, and looked at her tiny frame, clad in a long sleeved Misfots tshirt, skintight jeans and bright red Doc Martens. She was unbelievable, and so surprising. She was stunning, had amazing taste in music (I heard something about punk and metal and britpop) and an adorable accent, which was far too big for her. She picked up a Gibson in the corner, plugged it into an amp, and began to strum an instantly recognisable tune. Misfits of course. Being a total wannabe Danzig, I started singing. She was a way sweet guitar player too. She hadn't taken notice of me until she prematurely ended the song after the first chorus.
She turned around, and locked her big, kohl-rimmed eyed on mine. She started to speak, but her words were jumbled and nervous. I think the scary vampire may have frightened her off. Balls....