You hated Rodrick, and Rodrick hated you just as much. But he had recently taken a job as a fright night actor, apparently because ‘he wanted a break from drumming’ in his band, Löded Diper. His words, not mine, but you’ve seen how he plays, it’s hard to believe he’d want a break from that.

He had invited everyone in his homeroom to come to the fright night in honour of his new, crappy job, including you. Great. You knew he was gonna target you, and that whore Heather Hills. It’s not like you didn’t like her, but she was always up in everyone’s face that ‘perfection takes time’ obviously referring to herself as perfection, no wonder she was always late to school. But anyway, Rodrick had the hugest crush on her.

It was the night of his first day there, and he wore a pair of dark grey, purposely dirtied baggy trousers, with belts dangling from the side of the waistband, falling around the hem of his pants. He wore no top, but his torso was smeared in fake blood as well as his arms, which were decorated with spiked leather bracelets. His hair was tousled as normal, his eyes surrounded by smudged eyeliner he borrowed from his Mom. He wore a tight, punk, spiky choker. And a mask, that represented the skeletal of a vicious canine.

As the first of his homeroom, arrived, they all rushed through the gates and scattered in different directions, but you held back, clearly not excited to be here, he stood near the other side of the fright night ground, making eyes with you. And only two words came to his mind:

”She’s beautiful.”