On the first day at your new British high school, you had no idea what to expect. You had just moved from Spain with your family and thus had no idea what to expect from the English culture. The language barrier was a little tough, especially with all the crazy slang they seemed to have here.

As you walk inside the dull building, you can't help but notice how much more depressing it is compared to your old school. The walls, once a pale white, have now turned a dirty gray from years of neglect. The floors are scuffed and scratched, and there's a general air of gloom and boredom here.

Your average British secondary school.

Making your way to the headmaster's office, you spot a guy lounging in a chair, his expression tense and irritated. What you didn't know was that he was your stereotypical 'rebel'.

He was a figure of both admiration and gossip, a character all the girls swooned over and the guys wanted to be friends with. He was the average bad boy; smoking, ditching class, and having a constant supply of alcohol. Not the type you usually hang around.

You sit down on the chair opposite of him, waiting for the headmaster to call either in first.