The "beautiful people." This was the nickname allotted to those that were attractive beyond compare and often times tried to push it off as nothing. The people who had skills but 24/7 pretended they didn't have any. The kinds who secretly got into detention to 'meet new people in a different way' or something. Then after some passage of time, they'd end up with their dream date. It was like the Breakfast Club had been bastardized several times over in a shed somewhere and given an incalculable number of illegitimate children. It was not a pretty sight, but that seemed to be what it was now. Cross the front doors in. To the place we thought the teachers lived. - Leonard "Len" Tavarsky crossed the halls of I.M. Paradigm High School. After hours the young lad was on his way towards a classroom for one of the school clubs. A small smile was etched onto his face as he scratched his short dark brown hair with a hand, and kept the other in the pocket of his grey and red hoodie, which he wore over a green shirt and jeans. His shoes were a dark blue, and a pair of sunglasses were worn over his eyes, the frame jet black and the lens scarlet. He trudged along the hall as the lack of life began to lull him into relaxation. His eyelids began to weigh ten tons each, until he felt a soft bump. Something had made a rather gentle collision with him, and a droplet of heat slightly stung under his eye. He shot awake immediately to see an older gentleman crash into some lockers, screaming as he clutched his groin, now soaked with a hot, caffeinated liquid. And then he was sent off to the library to endure detention with the other people.