The New Kid (Dekonic x kryptonicangel)

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Dekonic

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Adjusting to a new life was never easy, especially with an odd accent in a different country. He spoke next-to-no French but was expected to fit into this school like a book on a shelf. As if. Alexander stirred from his bed, having gotten just enough sleep to function on his first day. He dressed himself sloppily wearing loose fitting jeans of a slate color with a mismatched pair of socks hidden by worn out Adidas shoes. His top was plain and blue, hair frizzled and wild though that didn’t much matter to him. He’d be the spectacle of everyone’s eyes no matter how he dressed. “Bye mum.” His accent was thick as he waved to the older blonde before exiting the small one-bedroom flat they could barely afford on the outskirts of Paris.


His school was a bit of a trek, no less than a mile’s walk, though it was a money-saver and that was crucial to the Wilkins’ family survival in this strange land. His mother, Darla, had taken a job for the Paris government working as some sort of secretary. Details were never something Alexander ever pondered on, rather he took life as it came. He grew up poor and misfortune but he also learned that money wasn’t the key to happiness and as such, he was generally a happy bloke. The outback’s of Australia offered many adventures for cheap, even free if one knew where to look and how to go about the whole ordeal. He plugged earbuds into a secondhand phone he had bought on yesterday with the last bit of savings he had. The rest of his hard-earned money went towards his musical instruments.


The instruments were his life, and without them he’d be a talentless slob. The second he picks up a sax or keys the piano magic just seems to happen. A naturally gifted genius in that regard was half the reason this school allowed him into their system. That and his mother scrounging every damn coin she could to afford the entry fee. He sidetracked himself with the sights, turning up to the school, named something he couldn’t begin to even pronounce, late.


Not a good start, nevertheless he entered and went about his day the best he could. The stares he received throughout the day, rather unwarranted but accepted. Alex did his best to blend in but every damn class wanted a presentation from him. The typical new-student procedure. Several times people giggled at his annunciation of words and strange accent. He dreaded social interactions enough to avoid them entirely, though school was something a kid growing up just couldn’t avoid. He found safehaven in his last class, Advanced Studio Band. The stares and giggles came once more but the second he started playing it was clear his skill was already past his peers. This earned a few sneers from less-talented cretins but he didn’t care, this was his life.


Following the class, Alexander quickly packed up and headed for the door only for the instructor to stop him in his tracks, pulling him to the side. “You’ve got talent, kid.” His accent strange and the words annunciation were hard to understand but the universal sign of kindness was not lost on the boy. “Uh, thanks…” The professor noted his lack of social skills and opted to simply pat the boy’s shoulder and offer some help. “Feel free to use the band room, adjusting can be hard.” Alexander’s eyes lit up, immediately returning the Piano as his instructor left with a request of the boy to lock up when he lift. It wasn’t long before Alexander found himself in a land of his own, intricate keystrokes of slow song taking him to a land of happiness.
 
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Just like the other higher class students, Marceline pulled up to the school in a fancy car with a foreign name she didn't care to pronounce. The school was only a few blocks away from her home but her father refused to let her walk with all the 'dangers' that lurked around. The Perreau family princess needed to be protected at all costs in his mind. The driver opened the door for her as he did everywhere they went, and she stepped out dressed in the uniform the school required. The girls wore a dark blue or black skirt with white or black socks, and an off-white jacket with gold trim and a dark blue bow tie over a white button up. The boys wore black slacks and a dark blue jacket with gold trim and a dark blue tie. When the weather is warmer the students are allowed to lose the jacket and wear just the shirt with the tie. Marceline's family preferred the traditional full uniform but they gave her options. She usually came dressed in the dark blue skirt with black socks with the jacket and tie in the winter and would change to white socks in spring. Today was a jacket day.

It was already the second week of school but word got out that there would be a new addition. Several rumors floated around of this person's entry into their school but the most prominent one was that he was not like them in any way. Some said that he was poor and just getting by on the grace of god. Others said he only got in because his mother slept with the dean. Nasty rumors from nasty children really. This school was for the gifted and pristine, a poor unfortunate soul didn't have much room to fit in here. Today was the day he was supposed to arrive according to the announcements the day before, and there he was.

Marceline didn't have a single class with the 'legend' but she knew all about him. Many of her friends had classes with him during the day. At lunch they spoke of how uncultured and unlike them he looked. They even said he had a strange funny accent and couldn't even afford the uniform, not one good thing was said after that.

"He's foreign of course he's not going to have a french accent. Don't any of you think? Le pauvre garçon a besoin d'aide." Marceline rolled her eyes listening to their ignorant mouths prattle on about things they obviously don't understand. Most days she questions why she still speaks with them. Of course, the answer to that question was because of her parents being well acquainted with theirs. Rich kids don't get to choose who they grow up with.

Before she knew it, the day was ending and she hadn't gotten a chance to see the new boy who graced their school. Most days Marceline stays after school to get some alone time for practice. This week was practice for her father's banquet in honor of his new partnership with another company. He requested that she perform for them as a sign of appreciation for their alliance. Her father expects nothing but the best so she devoted all of her extra time to perfecting her routines. Many kids stay after school for their own reasons causing her usual places to be occupied or too close to the noise.

"I can never have any peace can I.." Her mumbled words were drowned out by the beautiful sound of an artist at work. The only place she could think of with a piano on this floor was the band room down the hall. Marceline sped down the hallway, stopping close to the door so she doesn't startle whoever was playing. When she peeked around the door she was surprised by an unfamiliar face focused deeply into the keys. This must be him, the new boy everyone was speaking so poorly of. She stayed in the doorway for a while silently appreciating the soft tones that lulled her ears. It wasn't until she looked at her phone and realized she had something to do that she spoke up.

"You're pretty good despite what's been floating around." A soft smile spread from ear to ear as she approached the piano. "I haven't heard that song since I was a kid." She extended her hand to greet him hoping he would take it. "My name is Marceline Nova Perreau, but my good friends call me Mars. It's a pleasure to meet you." Her accent was thick and velvety as she spoke making it clear she came from french descent.
 
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He’d been in the moment, plucking away at the keys like a master. The piano spoke to him in a language much more beautiful than any created language of the modern day and age. He heeded the beckon call, swaying from side to side in joyous bliss. His smile warmed the room with perfectly white teeth, straightened by years of dental work paid for by a man no longer in the picture. Looking through the clothes Alexander was a handsome young man with an impeccable ability to make even the simplest of piano measures sounds masterful. He’d played through a Chopin piece, mashing in Mozart before finally settling on Beethoven. The songs weren’t in their original form, no. Alexander added twists to the pieces, his own flair and fills changing the tune and tone almost seamlessly. Never slipped nor faltered as he played the piece


Alexander felt himself jerk back to reality at the sound of a feminine voice, accented much akin to those who had verbally spat on him throughout the day. Comments about his looks, his speech hell everything they could possible assault. He almost ignored the girl before actually paying attention to her words. His face flushed a shade of dark maroon, his heart fluttering to the bottom of his stomach as he took her hand with a meager shake. It wasn’t often that anyone paid any mind to the boy, this was true even back home. The poor were universally hated no matter what the language nor the context. It took the boy a long moment of self-conflicting instincts before he decided to return any words of his own.


“Beethoven, Opus 27 Number 2. One of the best pieces of written music.” His accent was thick, laced with odd annunciations and differing emphasis on syllables. Alexander almost hated his accent, especially in a place such as Paris. He was seen as primitive and the clothing he had to wear didn’t the case at all. “Alexander Wilkins, residential poor kid. Nice to make your acquaintance.” Though he jabbed himself, it was all in confidence. The boy never paid any attention to the negative comments back home why should he care about prissy French kids who’ve had everything handed to them on a trimmed platter. “People talk, I’d rather let my actions speak for me. Seems to be working so far, yeah?” Alexander shrugged to himself, adding some of his Australian insults to the mix. “People like that can talk a dog off a meat wagon.” He looked over to Marceline with a bit of a grimace. “Sorry, just means they talk too much. Anyway, feel free to use the room. I need to be heading home anyway, mile long walk innit? Ah well I need the exercise anyway.”


Alexander was built well for a boy of seventeen, a nice jaw with broad shoulder and slowly defining muscles underneath the raggedy clothes that clung to his form like an old curse. With a haircut and a wardrobe upgrade he could fit in just fine, minus the accent of course. Though he knew no matter what he’d be the uncultured plonker from Australia. It’s not even an Aussie term for fucks sake he thought to himself before turning towards the beautiful French maiden one more time. “Marceline, yeah? Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Cheers.”
 
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Marceline was both amazed and excited at the same time. He knew of the piece well and had an appreciation for it. It wasn't everyday that she met someone who carried both things with them. As he shook her hand she giggled hearing the way he spoke and introduced himself. His accent was definitely different just as everyone described it. She was fond of different though. It was new and interesting compared to the same people she had been forced to deal with.

"Alexander was it? I agree with you, they do talk a lot." Her words were filled with delight as she listened to him continue on in his strange tongue. His sayings intrigued her but more importantly his music. She hadn't heard someone play a piece like that without hitches in quite some time. It sparked a fire in her that she was dying to let out. Marceline was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost missed his compliment. She was used to praise and attention but from the looks of it he wasn't. When he turned to leave she grabbed his arm with both her hands.

"Wait. Won't you play some more for me? I've become inspired by your music and I want to practice something a bit. Play for me, s'il vous plaît?" From time to time her french would slip out in between words as it came so naturally. Everyone she knows speaks the language so the fact that he was a foreigner slipped her mind. She wasn't about to take no for an answer either so she gently tugged him towards the piano. The boy was much bigger than her, practically towering over her. She was rather petite and had a smaller frame, easier for dancing.

"I can even possibly drive you home, that is, if I can convince my driver to allow it. My dad doesn't like poor people, no offense." Marceline spoke plainly to the boy. She was never one to lie or spare someone's feelings even though she had a heart of gold. She felt lying to someone was worse than what could actually be said. "Come to think of it a mile is quite far. How do you get here? Everyone I've seen lives not too far from the school." Her lashes fluttered confused on his statement. From her understanding everyone who came to the school lived in the heart of Paris or somewhere very close to the school. It was unusual for someone to live a mile out.
 
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The sudden grip of softness caused the boy to flinch, almost jerking away even though deep-down he reveled in the fact that someone of her quality would even thinking of invading his personal bubble in such a way. Even though the comment was blatant and stated in such a way the boy couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Non-taken.” He stood stunned for another moment taking in the question on how he got to school. He was rather embarrassed by the question but felt no need to hide anything. “I walked, nothing I’m not used to. It’s no worry, don’t bother yourself with it. Really. I appreciate the kind gesture though.” Australia was a rugged landscape that helped Alexander trek across life with harsh lessons. Walking the streets of high-class Paris was nothing in comparison, truthfully speaking.


Alexander set his bag down against the frame of the door, there was no getting out of the situation and while he was here, he might as well show off. While most of the music he had been playing were considered ‘masterpieces’ of their time, there were much more difficult pieces he had learned. “Avec Plaisir.” He knew his French wasn’t the best but his mother was fluent and had taught him a few phrases here and there, with pleasure being one of the few things he retained from selective hearing.


Alexander took the piano chair once more, stretching his hands out before slapping a few keys in preparation. “Franz Liszt composed this piece, the tempo at which I am going to attempt to play this is pretty difficult so apologies ahead of time.” Of course, it was a façade, this piece was one of many he had mastered and was his go to for displaying the extent of his pianistic talent. He began shortly after his humble brag with an incredible sound of music. The tempo was fast and he kept the beat nearly perfectly playing a piece of music thought to be nearly impossible for the human species to play. And while, he wasn’t playing at the original tempo, he was however a few measures shy of that speed. An incredible feat for even the most talented pianists to ever lived.


His fingers moved like spider’s legs, scurrying across the keys with an elegant grace. His eyes shut as the music touched his soul once more, the tempo of such a ferocious piece of music sending him into a violent sway. Each slap of the keys sending him into a euphoric state of clarity, his hands aching under the strain of such speed and even so he kept on tempo playing perfectly until the climax of the epic work of music, Études d'exécution transcendante d'après Paganini came to its climax. Considered impossible theorists and musicians in its original tempo Alexander pushed his fingers to the limit and nailed every key in perfection.


Sweat beaded across his forehead, his hands screaming in agony from the taxing piece of music. His eyes narrowed behind the musical instrument and focused on Marceline who had finished a routine of dance he’d never seen before. Even though he had only caught the last few moments he was impressed. She moved freely, flowed like water. Completely uninhibited by air and gravity. Of course, he noticed her slender frame, especially the way her clothes hugged the curvature of her body. His face flashed a shade of red momentarily as he diverted his gaze, embarrassed that he had been staring at someone entirely out of his league.


Once she ended the routine he clapped, a swarm smile curving the corners of his mouth and forming dimples. “Impressive, really impressive.” Alexander retrieved his tattered bag once more and slung it over his shoulder “I hate to play and dash but I really should get going, mums probably worried I’ve been napped.” He wasn’t joking in any sense; his mother was entirely overprotecting. “he turned to leave, cocking his head back towards the girl once more feeling himself dread the next question he was about to ask. “Care to walk with me?”
 
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"Merci. You're pretty extraordinary yourself." She bowed jokingly hearing his praises. Her moves were fluid but not enough for her standards. Alexander played music at a tempo she thought was impossible for anyone their age. It was by far one of the most impressive things she ever heard. The rawness of her dancing matched the violent tones of his music and it was satisfying for her. When he finished playing and she ended her routine in a precise stance she smiled wide. That feeling of being finished after working hard was the most amazing thing in the world to her. Unfortunately, it was time to leave. The school would be closing up soon and the boy should be getting home to his mother.

"I probably shouldn't but I have nothing else planned for today. I can walk with you if you'd like. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting too long now." Marceline was supposed to be home practicing her routines for the banquet with her mother but she didn't like doing as she was told. If she wanted to stay out late then that was what she was going to do. Her parents of course worry for her well-being but there wasn't much they were willing to do. She is a growing young woman and is peaking the rebellious stage.

"Allons-y! We have places to be." Marceline fixed her hair and clothes to be a bit more presentable before rushing out the door. She wondered what kind of place he lived in since they were walking, he lived a mile away, and he was relatively poor. She didn't know much about how the less fortunate lived except for the fact that they didn't have much. Growing up as the kid who had everything meant she knew no kind of poverty. She was curious to see but figured asking him outright or invading his home would be out of turn. The thought had occurred that she didn't really care and wanted to see anyway but the thought was quickly dismissed.

"So Alexander, where are we walking to? You don't plan on kidnapping me away do you? Whisked away by a stranger, never to be seen again by family and friends." She joked with him knowing it would get an interesting response. Marceline had noticed that every time he looked in her direction his cheeks would turn a little rosy so it was fun to mess with him. His reactions were cute and entertaining, two things she liked very much.
 
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“N-no! Of course not!” He trailed off noticing the peaking smile across her thin lips. He tried his best to hide the burning sensation in his cheeks, even so the burning shades of red beamed through his determined willpower. He attempted to form a coherent response too soon, stumbling over his words until he drew in a heavy sigh of sheer embarrassment. “Sorry, I am not used to interaction with people.” Alexander decided not to mention her being drop-dead gorgeous, assuming someone of her caliber heard words like that far too often. “I figured you’re ride would be here but if you’re not busy you can see where us po’ folk live.” He threw a smile her way, trying to make his joke as obvious as possible. Though, her posture seemed to direct her intentions towards his house.


“Excuse me for being blunt.” He started, as they walked a reasonable distance from the school ensuring nobody was paying attention to their conversation. Less ammo to be used on him that way, and even more so against her. She surely had a reputation to keep while he… well he didn’t matter. “You’re not like most people I’ve met. You’ve been raised in the same environment and yet you’re… I don’t know how to say it without sounding like an ass, but you’re accepting.” While it didn’t bother Alexander, hell he actually enjoyed the company in the moment it was just hard to wonder whether or not this was some cruel ploy. She seemed genuine but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d been tricked. “Never mind, I’m just being paranoid.” He cut that conversation short before initiating any sort of discrepancy between the two of them.


Most of their walk was in silence, embarrassed peaks at the beautiful girl next to him and a quick snapshot ahead of him as he got embarrassed. There was just something about this maiden that settled so very naturally with him. They soon came upon a white building the certainly didn’t look to be where a low-income family would live, thanks to the government they were able to acquire decent housing though it was still a one bedroom apartment and just barely in their price range. “This is it, Chez moi. We live on the bottom floor. You’re…” His voice was soon drowned out by an older female voice, the form of which snatched him from behind in a tight bearhug.


“Where have you been! You could have at least called Alex! You…” Her words stopped suddenly as her brown eyes came upon the female form standing just to the left of her. She smirked widely and gave Alexander a playful punch on the shoulder. “One day and you’ve already brought a beauty home.” Alexander broke the hug and protested the conversation happening, all while his face colored red, enough strength in the embarrassment to melt steel beams. “No! Mum it’s not like that!” His accent strengthened in the presence of this mother accompanied by a hint of anger and an overflowing sensation of dread. “Well introduce me you dill.” Alexander buried his face into his hands for a moment. “Marceline, this is my mum, Darlene. Mom this is Marceline we met at school and she wanted me to play for her.” His mother smirked even wider. “Oi, good innit? Boy’s a real prodigy when it comes to music. It’s good to meet you. You’re more than welcome to come inside.”
 
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Marceline spent the majority of their walk recalling what he had said about her being one of those people. He wasn't wrong in the sense of that being her upbringing but she definitely did not want to be like them. They were cruel and stuck up, she was kind and accepting of new things. Paranoia or not the boy was right. Their silent stroll left her to her own thoughts and admiration of the surrounding environment.

Next thing she knew Alexander was being attacked by a woman she didn't know but assumed was his mother. She was pretty and healthy looking considering she thought the poor were sad and malnourished. She snapped back into reality when she heard her name. Darlene and Alexander.

"The pleasure is all mine." Marceline did a small curtsy followed by an innocent laugh. His mother was witty and kind to her which made her happy. "Indeed, Alexander is really something. I can see why my school made exceptions for him." The school had made a great deal of exceptions for him given the way he came to school. He didn't need the uniform, he can barely afford the school, but he's a true prodigy. Sure enough, he proved that to Marceline today.

She could just feel the embarrassment pouring out of Alexander that she figured why stop now. His blushed cheeks could be seen a mile away but it could always get worse. "Thank you, I think I'll take you up on that. I would love to see how the prodigal child lives before I go." She flashed a big smile at Alexander knowing mothers do the worst things whenever boys bring a girl over. She was curious as to what old stories she would be told. If there was one thing Marceline liked, its baby stories.
 
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Oh god he thought slowly to himself, feeling dread and regret build in his system. He saw a bit of his mother in Marceline and he knew the next few minutes were going to be an absolute bubble-shattering event. The stories, oh god the stories his mother could blubber on about could ruin him forever in the eyes of even the most open-hearted of people. The look in those brown eyes suggested just that, Darla had always been the type to present her son like a prize upon a pedestal. “Right this way!” Alexander scurried into the mailroom, shuffling past other tenants before turning into the first door on the right and disappearing into the very small one-bedroom studio living space.


While the inside was quaint and well-decorated there had been a plethora of unopened boxes accompanied by mismatched furniture that had long outlived their worth. “Don’t mind the mess.” Darla was content with the lifestyle she lived, a trait she shared with her son. Neither of them cared for the fancier things in life nor did they really care for the words of this much more fortunate than them. ‘You’re only as valuable as your morals.’ His mother always said that when others would stare in their direction. Along the far wall where a beautiful picture was found laid several black cases, prized possessions of the so-called prodigal boy. “Alexander, I did get you something while I was out today.” Hung up behind the door was a brand-new uniform matching the very same ones the nobs at school had worn. “Oy Mum, you didn’t have to. What did you spend on it? A couple Kermit eh?” Darla rolled her eyes and brushed the boy’s comments off.


“So, I assume you two attend school together? Of course, you do.”
Darla shot her son a sly wink that was met with a groan as Alexander fumbled around one of the musical cases. “What are you studying there?” Alexander cut in quickly to stop the interrogation, his mother was always keen on learning as much as possible from people. “She’s a dancer mum, quite good at it too.” Darla cracked a toothy grin noticing her son's attempt to impede her interrogation. Alexander took a seat behind a rather pricey looking keyboard outfitted with all the bells and whistles, facing out the window to watch the scenery give him motivation. He turned towards Marceline with a meager smile. He didn’t know exactly what to say, social anxiety had barred him from ever building and skills for engaging conversations, let alone accepting a stranger into his home. Darla spoke up for her son, a sly smile cracked across her face. "Did you give her your number?"

Alexander found himself bumbling again in his own mind, shades of run coloring his entire face with a menacing glare directed at his giggling mother. She was younger than most mothers just barely in her thirties with a seventeen year old son, and it showed. She held onto her youth with an iron grip, always trying to be the 'hippest' mom around. Not exactly appropriate for the situation, nevertheless Alexander looked at Marceline without a semblance of an idea of what to do. "Uhm. No, I didn't think she'd want it?" He was entirely confused and shut down after his stumbled sentence.
 
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'The mess' as Darlene described it wasn't as messy as she expected. The family was living much better than the rumors depicted. Gerda better pay up tomorrow. She thought as she looked around the single room. This was definitely an eye opener for her. Compared to how lavish her life was these two have been living on a thread. If only there was a way to help them out or something, anything. She placed her thumb on her lip as she paced to the window deep in thought. Lots of things came to mind but the two standing in front of her took up her attention.

Marceline giggled listening to the two banter between themselves. It was different from how her family interacted. Her father was very strict and demanded to be spoken to with respect. Her mother hardly spoke ever unless it was some kind of instruction. Both of her parents loved her dearly and would give her the world had they got the chance but they never interacted with such carefree joy.

Darlene asked about getting her number but Marceline didn't know if he had a phone or not. Obviously if she offered then he had a means of contacting her. Second guesses swarmed her mind whether or not that was an action she wanted to take. Alexander was a nice boy, respectable enough at least but he wasn't like her. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel bad, and the least she could do was give him a way of keeping in touch. Being completely new to everything can't be easy so having someone to fall back on would be helpful.

"Well silly how would you know if you never asked huh?" Marceline ruffled his hair. "All you had to do was ask." Her words were genuine as she glanced around the room for a pen and paper. Luckily she found some loose paper and a pen so she wrote Mars followed by her number and a 'call me' in bold letters. She pulled out her phone to check the time and gasped at how late she was for her meeting with mother, about an hour give or take. There were over thirty calls, twelve voicemails, a few choice text messages, and even messages from her friends on her family's behalf. The look of panic was written all over her face, she could feel the lectures coming for her.

"I should get going before my father sends a whole task force after me. Wouldn't want that now would we? He's always so overboard." She took the paper in her hand and folded it into his before grabbing his chin. "Don't be a stranger now. I'll be seeing you tomorrow yes?" She giggled softly before giving him a kiss on the cheek and turning to his mother. Marceline was never one to leave without some sort of affection no matter who it was so she gave her a big hug. "Thank you for your hospitality. You've got a wonderful son and you're a wonderful mother. If you ever need anything don't hesitate to ask, I'm but a dial away." Marceline smiled before picking up her phone and rushing out the room. Calling her driver to get her would be easiest but not from where she currently was. It was best to walk a few blocks back into the city before asking for a pickup.
 
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Everything transpired so fast, Alexander didn’t even react to the sudden sensation of velvet brushing against his cheek. He’d never been so close to a female that wasn’t his mother. The way she ruffled his hair and treated him with such unwarranted admiration set alarms off in his mind. Nobody is that nice for no reason, right? It was nigh impossible for the boy to process what had happened, let alone notice the look of absolute terror pulsing across Marceline’s face. “Ta, it was wonderful meeting you.” Darla made sure to lock the door behind the scurried French maiden before winking towards her son who had turned away from the world entirely. She couldn’t help but to frown at his resilience to change.


“Doing okay?” Alexander shrugged his mother’s grasp with a low groan of contempt. “No. And I’d rather not talk about it.” Darla nodded to herself, patting the boy’s back before turning to the small hotplate and began unpacking the rest of their shoddy kitchenware. Alex reached for his phone, no messages or notifications as per usual though he did feel a bit of happiness creep into his heart as he typed the number Marceline had given him. He sent a quick identification message before placing earbuds into his ears and playing some quintessential music for the situation at hand. “Going for a walkabout, I’ll be home later.” Darla turned towards the door that had already been closed shut, Alexander decided fresh air and tunes were going to be his saving grace against the depression associated with moving, being an outcast and most importantly the divorce of his parents.


The situation wasn’t something he had been ready to face, his father had been his idol and was the one that introduced Alexander to the world of music. Without him he’d just be a poor kid with no talent. The thought of that disgusting ratbag sent him into a furious mood but that was soon quashed as he turned the corner to face a store sent from the heavens. Alexander couldn’t quite read the sign but he saw instruments. Beautiful instruments of a craftsmanship far, far out of his price range. He entered the store and felt his soul revitalized in the face of such incredible pieces of art. He felt particularly drawn to a specific instrument, one he didn’t own yet. He owned a fancy keyboard that had been hooked up to a laptop able to change the keys to play certain beats and sounds, a flute, an acoustic and an electric guitar. But he did not own a saxophone and he was damned good at the bugger. He picked the gilded instrument up, grabbing a reed from his pocket and began testing the instrument.


It was all of ten minutes before the store’s curator came to him with a face of amazement. He spoke fast in the foreign tone, none of which Alexander understood. “Sorry, my French…” He was quickly cut off as the man changed to English as if it was nothing. “You’re simply incredible! I’ve never heard someone play so beautifully! C'est exquis!” Alexander was taken back by the sudden compliments from a stranger. He had to have seen he was far too poor to afford something of this tenor saxophone’s quality and yet the man was giving him an encore. It wasn’t long before several patrons of the store had been bopping along to the music.


Alexander removed his reed and mouthpiece, placing the instrument back on its stand, all while the store curator looked at him with bewilderment. “You certainly go to Conservatoire de Paris, Oui?” Alexander simply nodded worried he was about to get into trouble. “I see you are less fortunate than most students that go there. Do you know of Pierre’s sponsorship?” Alexander returned a quick shake of his head, he’d never heard of such a thing. “Follow me, S'il vous plait!” Alexander followed the man who quickly whipped some paperwork and explained that for no charge he could choose and instrument. Pierre, the store’s owner, explained it as marketing and noted that Alexander’s skills had far exceeded any student that had pass through in the recent years. After an hour or so Alexander had left the store with the Sax, a new mouthpiece, carrying case and a few dozen high-quality reeds.


He raced home, burst through the door to the smell of dinner. They had a quick conversation about the events before they devoured dinner and proceeded to be. Alexander slept on the couch, falling into a blissful slumber with expectations of the next day. Sure, he was still the poor kid but he had a friend to look forward to. He woke up to and early alarm set by his mother. There was a brown paper bag on the counter with his lunch, a quick note accompanied with his new uniform. Alexander was quick to shower and dress, grabbing his lunch and tossed it in his bag. He made sure to grab the shiny case with his new saxophone laying inside.


He practically sprinted to school, rushing to his band locker to place his stuff away before prancing off to class. He still caught glances and sneers, slowly but surely the side-banter brought his mood down especially with lunch hour coming to the forefront of his busy schedule. The uniform fit well and he almost fit in, if it wasn’t for his shaggy hair and rubbishly different accent of course. Alexander took a table to himself in the far corner, unpacking his salami sandwich that had the crust cut away. He took a bite and hung his head in shame as the other students filed in with their fancy platters of home cooked meals.
 
Marceline almost broke into a full sprint after she left the Wilkins residence. There was no way her parents would let her off for being missing for so long. The longest she ever went missing was that time when she got lost on a walk when she was a child. Her parents got the whole police force looking for her until they found her at the park playing with a puppy, she never got to keep the puppy. This was just as bad as that. When she got far enough away from their house she decided to call her driver to pick her up at a nearby coffee shop.

Fifteen minutes went by before her driver pulled up to the curb. "Where have you been? You know your father worries." The man looked down at her with eyes full of concern but he could never stay mad at her. He was her caretaker from since she was a small girl and grew to love her as if she was his daughter. "I was with a new friend. Got carried away with the time." Her pat her head and helped her into the car before getting in himself. "I'm just glad you're safe. I'm sure your parents would want to hear that as well." Marceline nodded as the car pulled off towards home.

The buildings zoomed past as the car weaved through the streets until they arrived at their destination. The gated household open its door to their returned daughter so they vehicle could pull up to the front doors. Upon stepping out of the car Marceline was greeted by her mother. A look of both anger mixed with joy was all over her as she pulled her into a hug.

"Où êtes-vous allé? Your father and I were worried sick!" Her mother broke free from the hug and dragged her inside to speak with her father. The two burst into his office where her father stood waiting next to his bookcase. "Marceline, I see you've decided to come home. Where might my daughter have gone this time? You know my event is looming over our heads and you pull a stunt like this?" Her father spoke firmly without raising his voice as her mother exited the room. Her mother never stayed around to hear the lectures but knew well of what they consisted of. "You see father... J'ai fait un nouvel ami, the new boy at my school. I wanted to visit him and.." Marceline placed her words with caution until she was cut off abruptly. "The poor boy? Yes, I heard from other parents that some uncultured child would be dirtying the school." He slowly progressed towards her, stopping just within arms length apart. "People like him were not meant for people like you. He's nothing and you have more important matters to attend to than playing philanthropist. You're not just putting your name at risk, its our family name too." Marceline looked down hearing his bitter statements. She didn't believe she had to be accompanied by people similar to her all the time unlike her father but his word was final. "You are to stay away from him completely. Any further contact will risk everything that we stand for." Her father sighed seeing how upset she got but didn't change his mind. Her pulled her into a tight hug and raked his hand through her curls. "Je t'aime Marcy, my sweet princess." Marceline allowed herself to be hugged not wanting to move an inch. "Je t'aime aussi papa.." Her father broke away from her and nudged her towards the door. "Now go to your room and finish your studies. Remember what I said." Those were his last words before Marceline took the long walk to her room.

Her room was huge, at least the same size or bigger than the whole studio that Alexander lived in. She plopped down onto her bed saddened by her father's remarks. He was cold towards people who didn't have much. She never understood why but it wasn't for her to ask. Her night continued with her completing the rest of her assignments and falling asleep to slow soft songs off her phone.

The next morning came like an unwanted present. Her alarm sprang her out of bed so she could prepare herself for school. The smell of breakfast traveled through the house as their personal chef prepared a meal. It didn't take long for Marceline to get ready, especially because she wasn't feeling today. Her hair was tied up into a big fluffy bun ontop of her head with a few loose hanging curls. She didn't bother putting on any kind of cosmetics, keeping it simple to just lip balm, not that she wore makeup often enough anyway. Her sullen steps downstairs into the kitchen lead to the confused looks on everyone's faces. She was usually so cheerful and upbeat but today she was quiet and distant. She thanked her chef for the meal but only took a waffle into her mouth as she grabbed her bag and the container with her fresh cooked lunch to the car.

The day went on as any other day of school. The boys all tried to swoon her heart hoping to get lucky and catch her attention, the girls tried to befriend her in hopes of boosting their status, and her friends chatted away about everything that went on. Today Marceline kept herself quiet and observant, not wanting to initiate interaction with anyone she didn't have to. There was a lot on her mind, a lot to take in after the talk with her father the previous night. It wasn't until lunch that her friends spoke up about it.

"Alright Mars what's going on? You've been grumpy all day long. It's not like you." Her one friend spoke out at the table as they all opened their lunches. "Maybe your monthly companion came for a visit yeah?" Another friend joked as the others laughed. Marceline wasn't the least bit concerned with their jokes. Her attention was focused on the boy who sat in the corner alone with his meager meal. "That's not the case at all. I'm just tired, was up all night practicing things." Her voice was soft as she kept her attention fixated on the boy to which her friends took notice to. "Why are you staring at him like that? You know he's low class trash. He isn't worthy of someone of your caliber." Her friend looked at Alexander in disgust that Marceline would even look in his direction. "Now if you want someone more deserving than look at him. He's the best actor this school has!" Her friend turned her face towards the boy but she just looked down at her container. She felt bad that she was eating something practically gourmet and he was eating a children's meal. For christ's sake he had the crust cut off too from the looks of it.

"I'll be back." Marceline got up from the table and got one of the fancy waters along with a plate of chicken and rice. She took the plate over to where Alexander was seated and sat right next to him. "Hey. I figured you would want a little more food than just a sandwich. Growing boy needs a nutritious lunch right? Don't say you don't need it or any of that dumb stuff either. Just accept my gift and enjoy it." Marceline had a great big smile spread across her face as she looked to him. She didn't know why she was being so kind to him or why it made her heart feel a little warmer but she knew it was what people were meant to do. Take care of each other just like her driver used to tell her when she was little. It was as if the whole lunchroom stopped when she sat with him. Looks of confusion all around but she didn't care, she assumed they would all probably come up with some excuse to justify her actions in their minds anyways.
 
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He’d been deep into the child’s meal, enjoying the labor his mother had put into sandwich. She coddled him like a toddler and while it annoyed him, Alexander did find some happiness in the amount of love his mother gave to him. Unconditional love, unlike a father-figure that decided money of all things was more important than weathering a storm as a family. Alexander buried his eyes into sheet music that had been laid out to his right. Complicated measures so close together that the page looked like one big blot of black ink. He could read it, hear it. Every change and difference. If it wasn’t for the clambering of distant trays Alexander wouldn’t have noticed the familiarity of a certain French maiden giving him food.


“Aren’t worried about the ever-popular social status?” He smiled wryly, openly accepting the company Marceline provided. He scooted the tray over to his right and placed the musical book between the two of them. “Thank you, honestly.” Alexander allowed himself to show a meager existence of weakness, something he struggled with often. Being poor and being weak were often associated with one another and Alexander did everything in his power to always appear strong. Nevertheless, her actions didn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t want to take too much of her time, he wasn’t exactly someone to be prioritizing over people who had more meaningful friendships to keep intact.


He was, however, feeling talkative as his mood had gotten infinitely better with Marceline making an appearance. “I started music when I was four, my father was a Saxophonist in his youth and always played some tunes for me when I was antsy. My first word was music, I’ve lived and breathed this passion.” Alexander winced internally as he mentioned his father, but the story continued on. Hopefully without her noticing the slight hitch. “I was playing Mozart at seven and at twelve playing pieces likes Ligeti and Tchaikovsky.” Alexander was trying not to come off too cocky but everything he was saying had a purpose. His finger pointed towards a specific line on the book he had laid out in front of him. “Measures like this with a ridiculous accelerando were thought to be practically impossible. Composers like Liszt created pieces that were so far ahead of his time and it shows.”


Alexander stopped, flipping the book close and turning himself towards Marceline with a solemn expression. “What I am trying to say is that the world could use more people like you. Those who see through class and ranking, making their own assessment based on a being’s personality and skill. I don't care what people think of me, I only hope they can hear my music without bias. Art should never be scrutinized because of the person.” He gave Marceline a warm smile as he picked the tray up and gathered his things with his free hand. “If you don’t mind I’m going to take my food with me, peering eyes make it a bit hard to probably enjoy lunch.” He shot a wry glance towards the table she had come from, giving them a quick wink and cheeky chuckle before leaving Marceline with a parting smile and quick reminder. “I’ll probably be in the studio room after class is over, hopefully I’ll see you? Oh and.” He stopped again preparing his best French accent. “Votre sourire est un don.”


He disappeared like mist in the wind, every pair of eyes watching the uniformed cretin walking away from, potentially, the most beautiful and popular girl in the school. He felt confidence in himself, even as the hunger pangs struck deep. Finding himself alone in the band room once more, he practically devoured the chicken and rice leaving nothing behind. Not even a crumb for a mouse. Since band wasn’t in session for the day he planned on spending the last few hours breaking in the new instrument. Hell, he didn’t exactly have anywhere else to be. The last hour was usually a ‘creative’ period as the rich people say. He cracked the locker open, snagged the lacquered black case and found himself in a serene position.
 
His last words lingered in her mind like a kindling fire. Without noticing it her cheeks became a rosy shade and a barely noticeable smile crept onto her face. 'Votre sourire est un don.' No one has ever said something so precise and meaningful to her. Her usual compliments were typically rudimentary statements followed by cliche lines and more rudimentary statements. It was rare someone actually said something sweet and intellectual to her. It was a good change of pace.

Marceline took a few deep breaths to calm her heart rate before returning to her raging friends. They were clearly upset with his display of confidence and her overwhelming kindness. "Look Mars we know you have a bleeding heart and all but you didn't have to do that. Let the little piggy fend for himself." Her friend practically spat the words out of her mouth, her other friend just nodding along with her arms crossed. "We shouldn't be mean to him just because he's different. He looked like he could use a friend and it's not like either of you was going to step up." Marceline's eyes narrowed disappointed with her two friends. They talk in the same condescending manner as her father. "Unfortunately the world isn't like that. There's us and there's them, and we gotta look out for us. I mean what would your father say?" The girl raised her brow already knowing the answer since their parents were close friends.

Marceline stayed quiet for a few moments, not sure of how to respond without causing a scene or saying something she can't take back. "If you don't mind I think I'll eat my lunch alone for today. I need to practice my performance anyway.. À plus tard." She settled with that as she picked up her belongings and headed out the cafeteria, all eyes on her. She wasn't sure of herself or anything anymore. This one boy threw her whole world off balance yet she didn't feel like she was tumbling down. Rampant thoughts floated through her brain while she made her way to a free lounge near the open rehearsal rooms. She took the seat nearest the window and began to slowly eat her lunch. Coincidentally, she wasn't that hungry so most of it was resealed in the container and tucked into her bag. Alexander's words replayed over in her head as she stared out to the fluffy white clouds above. What's going on with me..

She couldn't wrap her head around her thoughts but figured she would do what she usually did when she was stressed, put in some earbuds and dance freely. One of the studio rooms were available for her use so she dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes, and did what she came to do. She put her earbuds in and played music loud enough to block out everything, including her own thoughts. It was just her and her body going through the motions, letting herself express what she felt without thinking.
 
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Alexander felt his motivation drain away suddenly, the sensation of creativity evaporating into thin air. His mind had been stuck on a certain bun of messed curls, doe eyes looking to him as an equal. Perhaps it had been the first time he’d taken in the situation he’d been through the previous day and earlier today. She was so incredibly, stupidly beautiful. A girl of her caliber was certainly out of his league and yet she had risked social destruction to take him a plate of food and socialize with him. He hadn’t been exactly grateful for the show of she had given him either. He hesitated in place as his mind and heart fought viciously against one another. Should he pursue her? Was he misconstruing her words? He had no idea what to think and he normally hadn't been a risk taker. She is worth it though he thought to himself, silencing both sides of his mind simultaneously. Alexander packed his things and set out to find the dancer. He thought to himself for a moment, remembering she was a dancer and headed for the studio areas across the other side of school.


Several students gave him dirty looks as he pushed passed them, not showing and manners or respect. He figured he didn’t have to. Respect is earned and not given, especially in the eyes of the poor. The rich who look down upon them had always been lower on the totem pole as far as he had been concerned. Alexander checked each studio room until he finally found the dancing maiden deep in a routine of complicated twists and turns. She had been lost to the rhythm, allowing him to sneak into the room and take a seat against the far wall. He admired her form, perhaps because she was absolutely stunning in form and of course in appearance. Every movement was fluid and violent, swaying against gravity as if she had been in combat with physics.


When she finished, Alexander clapped, hopefully loud enough to break through her musically induced trance. He felt bad, imposing on her during a moment of privacy and yet he felt compelled to be near her. An attachment was starting to form, something he hadn’t wanted, ever. Period. But an exception was being made for the French lovely, a smile creeping across his face as he came to lock eyes with hers. He looked away after feeling a sensation of creepiness, accompanied by signature shades of red in his cheeks. “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you.”


“Do you know any routines for two people? I’ve always wanted to dance but never really had… well nobody wanted to be that close to me.” He clasped his hands together, twisting his foot anxiously looking away as if she was about to just erupt on him. He felt a bit odd standing in front of her like a child begging for a toy. He was obnoxiously, intoxicatingly adorable and he didn't have any clue just how precious and innocent he looked with those big, brown doe eyes. "It's okay if you're uncomfortable being that close to me. Sorry for asking."
 
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Marceline felt entranced to the music blasting in her ears. It spoke to her in ways no one in the world could and her body responded to it almost instinctively. Her motions were fluid and crisp, every twist, tumble, and leap calculated with such precision that she didn't need to look at where she was. Her eyes shut to feel the full extent of the beats as her body contorted around itself. She kept her body loose and flexible to move between positions freely. When her routine was coming to an end she finished with a long pirouette a la seconde all the way until her whole body was on the ground in her completed position. She let out a deep breath upon completion of her routine and opened her eyes. When she looked into the mirror before her she saw a familiar face clapping in the background.

"Didn't see you there but thank you." She said as she took her ear buds out and placed them in her pocket. She was proud of her work and glad that he liked the performance. Some parts were being incorporated into her routine so this was good practice. His next statements were followed by a few questions and more blushing. Marceline couldn't help but smile seeing his blushed red complexion and awkward demeanor. He was so shy compared to how he appeared.

"Well there's lots of duets out there like the merengue, the bachata, samba, and let's not forget the tango." Her more Italian accent showed itself as she named the more popular latin american dances but she caught herself before getting to deep into it. "There's also the swing and jive, the foxtrot... You know since I don't think you're much of a dancer why don't we do something simple yeah?" She played a slow song on maximum volume and placed her phone on the floor near the mirror. "And I'm not afraid to get close to people. It's easy." Marceline stepped up to Alexander and grabbed his hands, placing them in the appropriate areas for the dance.

"It's called a waltz, a European creation. It's simple really. Just follow my movements and I'll guide you." Marceline smiled as she started moving her feet slowly giving him room to observe and replicate. "Just mirror my movements slow and steady." She swayed her body to the melody as she danced circles around the room with him. "There you go not terribly hard I hope." She giggled as she continued to lead the two of them in small circles.
 
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His postured changed rather quickly as Marcelin approached him and showed him the proper positioning in which his hands should be placed. “Not much of a dancer would be correct.” His body was stiff, tense as the scent of Marceline entered his nostrils. He was so close her. Not that he was particularly uncomfortable but given the circumstances he worried for her own reputation. Alexander was a death sentence to anyone more fortunate to him, curse of the poor, as most people had been commenting. The stories about him and Marceline would be passed around quicker than lightspeed. And the other prissy kids would eat it up, like it was lifeblood. His face was red-hot, the coloration of his peach skin mixed with deep shades of red enough evidence to create at least fifteen new colors on the spectrum. Her touch was soft, gentle and guiding. His feet move with her movements, mirroring them the best he could.


Her touch was so… personal. Or maybe he was just delusional because a beautiful girl had even wanted to be this close to him in the first place. But it also seemed natural between the two of them. Like they had an apparent connection that went deeper than just superficial contact. Alexander wanted so desperately to deny this feeling, but alas he just couldn’t shake the feeling that shook his heart with a rhythmic beat. The dance ended all too soon though, he had begun to settle into the scenario he’d forced himself into. He wasn’t sure why however. Normally he’d be totally content without the contact of someone he could call a friend. But, Marceline was different. Alexander was starting to see through his own façade, two pairs of intertwined eyes locking as the final measure of the Waltz had come to its climax.


He remained close to Marceline for a long period of stopped time, a smile creeping across his lips. His heart raced against the bones of his ribs, adrenaline lighting his blood on fire as he felt the connection strengthen between the two of them. Every interlocked moment of unbearable anxiety mixed in with the feeling of self-confirmation led his body to begin moving forward. Autopilot instincts took over as his mind went entirely blank and his eyes closed. His lips stopped just short of hers, a moment of hesitation giving Marceline enough time to react. If she wanted to.
 
Marceline giggled watching his attempts to mimic her movements. To her surprise he wasn't terribly bad, or at least he knows how to follow along. He only stepped on her feet a few times but that was to be expected from a non-dancer. This was different than her usual dancing. Her dancing always had a purpose or meaning behind it, this was just for fun, something she didn't partake in so often. With her ever-growing busy schedule and her parent's serious attitude towards everything, fun wasn't something she had a great deal of time for. She enjoyed the time she spent with Alexander despite what others might think. He was a good different that she had an appreciation for.

The two swayed and dipped to the beat of the music until the Waltz came to it's ending. It was like the space around them grew larger and everything in this moment felt so serene. He leaned in towards her, their noses bumper to bumper, close enough to feel eachother's breath and heartbeat. A slight smile spread upon her lips before Marceline closed her eyes. Her lips pressed against his in a passionate moment of intense emotions. She kissed him for a solid thirty seconds before snapping out of the trance she had found herself in. She retracted her whole being from him, covering her bright crimson face with her hands.

"You... We just..." Her blushed cheeks shone through her hands as the confusion between overjoyed happiness and panicked fear mixed in her head. She was all too happy that it happened and wished for it to continue but at the same time she was afraid of what her father might do to him as well as herself if anyone were to find out. "I'm sorry... I..." Her blue eyes frantically scanned the room before coming back to Alexander. She wasn't sure of what to do or how to process what just happened. Then, like a saving grace, the bell rang indicating the end of the school day. Students started to flee classrooms eager to get to their cars.

"That's the bell. We should umm.... Yeah, à tout à l'heure." The awkwardness practically poured out from her veins. She was so unsure of herself that she couldn't even talk correctly. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves which was enough to bring her complexion to a blushed pink rather than a vibrant red. With a fleeting hug Marceline grabbed her belongings and made her way out of the classroom towards her waiting driver.