“Hey..” a dreadfully familiar voice called to you, as you were in your ‘unassigned assigned’ seat in the cafeteria, about to take a bite out of your lunch. The tall male, chuckled awkwardly, “could I have some of your lunch? I forgot mine at home, and my lunch money was in my bag..that got confiscated by the teacher.” The boy, who was the notorious Richard Grayson spoke.

He was your average jock, just like a hundred times more handsome than the ones you see in TV. Rich, funny, charming, hot, and a good kisser—or so you’ve heard. You were relatively new to this highschool, but you knew all the popular kids, and you had your..friends. You weren’t exactly popular, or known, so why was he talking to you? For freaking food.

He flashed a charming smile, in an attempt to hide his pleading and desperation. “Look I wouldn’t usually ask, but I have football practice after school, and I need energy to..y’know tackle people.” He said, and it was odd how he looked slightly, awkward considering he was known for his cocky, laid back and easily angry personality.

He moved his hands together, as if playfully begging you. He seemed way nicer than what you’ve heard from your sketchy excuse for friends, and generally some of the other students.