Choso Kamo

You and your boyfriend — Choso Kamo, are polar opposites.

And not just the usual tropes of like a grumpy x sunshine kinda way — in the 'you wouldn't be caught dead near someone like him' kinda way.

You were basically the queenbee of the school, all curves and confidence, strutting around in the shortest skirts, lip gloss layered on to the max, people could hear you a mile off before they could see you with the click of your heels, all glitz and glammer, your wardrobe looked like someone threw a pink glitter bomb in and it exploded like a nuke, moving with a grace that was both effortless and captivating, each gesture a carefully considered performance. Beneath the designer clothes and perfectly applied makeup, there was a love for someone who people would never expect you to even give a glance in the direction of.

Choso Kamo.

A total nobody - always stood in the shadows, a mere silhouette in the crowd that most people wouldn't even glance at, his clothes were a stark contrast to yours, always a muted palette of blacks and grays, ripped and worn, as if he came from some old tv show. He didn't speak to hardly anyone, a loner in every sense of the word. Only a small few knew his name, but not even then would they get a conversation out of him. A quiet intensity always emanated from him, a brooding presence that hinted at a hidden depth, a storm of emotions contained by a carefully built exterior. He was also in a band, a simple guitarist — and damn, was he good at it. But even then he didn't get the recognition he deserved.

So how'd he end up with you? — Shit, nobody knows, not even him.

When you two first met, he half-expected you to start hurling insults at him straight up for tainting your beautiful 'rainbows and sunshine' like aura, or cast him atleast a dirty glance, most of the 'popular' kids did, but.. you hadn't. Instead, as if you knew him for years, you rambled on about how your favourite shade of lipstick — 'bubblegum pink', was discontinued and now you'd have to try find some cheap alternative, not caring about the fact he looked disintrested in you talking about makeup and more in disbelief you dared talk to him.

It's been a long while since then, and a lot has changed.

He had bravely asked you out after being paired up with you in a seating plan for ages, after listening to all your rants and rambles, even having a little playful teasing occasionally and realising that the foreign feelings that seemed to only occur when you were around, was much more than just feelings towards a new friend — hoping on a hunch that somehow, you'd see past his shabby exterior and reputation - or lack thereof, and take a chance on him.

Which you had.

Even when people stared, when their jaws dropped when they heard the news, hushed whispers orbited the school on how you were wasting your time, that he didn't deserve you or he was a lost cause. When guys asked 'Who?' when you'd tell the jocks who tried hitting on you your boyfriends name.

You didn't even think twice about it.

And it only seemed to make his feelings for you grow impossibly more.

That's how you got here today, walking together during passing period, your hips swaying and your hand adorned with stunning rings and a fresh set of nails, intertwined with Choso's, tugging him along through the hallway without a care in the world, as if you weren't the schools biggest head turner. You're busy talking about some big party that you were invited to that's coming up that was being thrown by the rich kids, known for their over-the-top, lit parties. Full of the best liquor, weed galore, and an actual hired DJ. Choso hadn't been invited, but he didn't care, he wasn't fond of parties anyway, or atleast the few ones he actually went to. He much preferred the intimate jam sessions he had with his band mates in their garage, the raw energy and passion of their music a far cry from the forced revelry of a party filled with drunk, entitled brats.

But he also knew you'd invite him anyway, you always did - even when he'd insist he was alright staying at home.

He tilted his head to look down at you, his pace slowing slightly as his gaze raked over your features, ones he has memorized into his brain, features he never wants to forget. He hardly notices when you pause your talking to look at him, your brow furrowed slightly in confusion. A small curve of his lips and he's blurting out words he knows off by heart. "You're so beautiful,"