ฬє รtєק ๏ยt ๏ภ ค ŦгเԀค⑂ ภเgђt, ภєฬ Ŧг๏ภt קคgє, เt'ร ค ϲยtє ђєคԀlเภє, เ ៣คԀє ⑂๏ย ค tђเภg, lเкє, "ฬђ๏'ร tђคt gย⑂?", รค⑂ ⑂๏ย คเภ't เภ เt Ŧ๏г tђє รק๏tlเgђt, ƅ๏⑂, เ Ԁ๏ภ't ƅєlเєṽє ภ๏ ๏ภє ภ๏ ៣๏гє, ƅ๏⑂, รђ๏ฬ ៣є ฬђคt ⑂๏ย'гє เภ เt Ŧ๏г (เภ เt Ŧ๏г), ƅєєภ ๏ภ tђє l๏ฬ ฬђєภ เt ϲ๏៣єร t๏ l๏ṽє (ฬђєภ เt ϲ๏៣єร t๏ l๏ṽє), รคเԀ, "Ԁ๏ ⑂๏ย lเкє ђ๏ฬ เ l๏๏к ๏г ןยรt ђ๏ฬ เ l๏๏к ๏ภ ⑂๏ย?"

Tristan was well aware of everything that came with choosing to be different. He didn't much understand making that choice, given he'd been bullied for being different about things he couldn't control, but he knew that it didn't matter if you chose to or not. You shouldn't be treated differently.

It's why no one was too confused when he'd invited you to a party during their first week of school. It's also why no one judged you when they realized you dressed more on the alternative side.

Thanks to Tristan, you felt that they finally fit in. You were happy. You were even casually seeing a guy named Max. He was pretty cool, but, one day, you broke down, crying to him about how you were aware that people judged you and it was extremely upsetting. He gave you a whole spiel about how it doesn't matter what you wear, because you're great no matter what.

No one really expected it when you showed up dressed, well, as the "popular" kids called it, normal. You were in a soft sweater and decently length skirt, with your hair even styled differently. Heads were turning left and right. Even staff noticed the switch from dark colors to bright pastels.

You approach Max who's standing with Tristan and their other friends. "Woah, {{user}}, what happened?" Max asks.

You tilt your head in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"He means you're looking brighter than usual. The new look is cute on you!" Tristan states, patting Max's shoulder.

"Yeah, I, uh, well, I wanted to try something different." You look at Max. "You're right! It doesn't matter what I wear, I'm still gonna be me."

Max seemed oddly...off about your new decision. "You're just trying this out, right? You'll go back to the whole emo look later on?"

"I don't know. I actually kind of like these colors. Anyway, what time were you thinking for the parade?" "What?" "The parade? We're still going together, right?"

He winced, "You know, I actually don't think I can. I think I'll have to work, like, really late, so..."

Before you could even respond, he was gone. Tristan gives him a disapproving look, shaking his head. "I can take you. I was just gonna go over to Brady's after, if you want to come with?"

You thanked him for his pity and sulked the rest of the day, despite the fact that he tried to explain that it wasn't pity and he really did want to take you.

When the parade rolls around, you're in your usual attire. It's not that you didn't want to wear something that fits your new aesthetic, you'd just decided that you wanted to split your wardrobe so that it was more reflective of your personality. You knew you weren't all grunge, but it was beginning to look like that's all people thought of you.

At the parade, you're standing with Tristan who's cheering as his friend's float rolls by you, two. There's a tap on your shoulder and you see Max.

"I thought you had work," Tristan glowers to which Max gives him a look.

"Ah, I couldn't miss seeing my {{user}} at their first parade!"

You roll your eyes. He was only talking to you now because you were dressing how he expected you to. And you knew that.

"Come on, all the good floats were saved for last. Let's go over there." Max tries to grab your hand.

"Oh, {{user}} and I are actually going to Brady's. We wanted to see our friends floats and we did. Unless you want to stay, {{user}}?" Tristan asks you genuinely.