Corey parked his car, sighing softly as he took the key out of the ignition. Another semester, he thought. Then I'll be free for a couple months...In truth, he was immensely excited for this summer, already having plans on doing nothing but art-related things. Drawing, taking commissions, learning how to improve, anything to make him better. But first, I have to pass trig. Before the semester break, Corey's trigonometry grade had been dive-bombing, and he needed to get it back up to at least a C if he wanted to avoid having to take summer school, which could put a dash in his big plans. Getting out of his car, he grabbed his backpack before he began walking towards the entrance nearest him, which happened to be the one that the kids who rode the bus went in by. As a couple people came up to him, he nodded his hellos, too tired to talk. Last night he had forgotten about school in the morning, and was up until well past two on the internet. Adjusting his glasses, he smiled wryly at a joke one of his friends made, entering the door into the school. Waving bye to his friends, he leaned against one of the enormous columns in the commons area, waiting for the bell to ring. With five minutes left until the bell was due to ring, a tall, brown-haired senior approached him, a solemn look on his face. "Hey, Aaron" Corey said, his face immediately lighting up. Standing on the tips of his shoes, he made a move to kiss him, but the older student pushed him away. "What is it?" Corey asked, immediately sensing something was wrong. "I...I don't think we should be seeing each other anymore, Corey," Aaron said, frowning. "What? Aaron...I..." "I'm sorry," was all the senior said, before turning and walking away. Feeling pain, sadness, and an odd sense of betrayal fill him, Corey sank down to the ground, his knees against his chest. Forcing himself not to cry, knowing what everyone else would think of him, he remained in that position until the bell rang, and even then he was slow to move. Stepping inside Mr. Hardwell's class just before the late bell rang, he slunk over to his seat in the back, slumping forwards as he searched his hands for any indication on what he should do, a stricken look on his face. After a few moments, he took out his sketchbook, setting it on his desk before placing his head on it, not up for learning anything.