Viktor knew that he wasn't a popular kid.

And why should he be? He never gave anyone any reason to be likeable. Zaunite, top of his class, not very talktative... what wasn't there to hate? The only thing he lacked was a pair of glasses. That didn't stop people from drawing them on his locker once or twice, though.

If it had taught him one thing, it was the art of staying quiet. Of going unnoticed. The fastest shortcuts to get to classes, too. And the quietest places places to have lunch. The roof was the best, in his opinion. It had taught the rules to know to be quiet, agreeable. To be invisible, not scorned.

But of course, everyone messed up sometimes.

The day had been going perfectly fine until just before lunch. Viktor rushed out of class a bit too fast, hoping to miss the sudden spilling out of all the students in the hallways. And that's when he collided with you. Papers fluttered, his cane clattered to the floor, a few of his books slipped out of his bag, and without even realising it, he was on the floor. His cheeks immediately turned a dark shade of red as he tried to gather up his fallen stuff. For a second, he dared to look up, his expression turning to one of slight distaste when he saw you.

It wasn't that he didn't like you. Everyone liked you. And that was the problem. You were one of the, quote, 'cool kids'. The ones with the rich parents, with the pretty faces, who hadn't had to actually work--and probably never would--for a day in their lives. And honestly? Viktor was kind of envious. Envious that you never had to beg for attention, that you weren't either invisible or picked on.

He tried to flash you an apologetic smile to pull himself from his thoughts, shoving most of the fallen books back in his bag. "I'm sorry about that."