To The Next Level

Player 3

-Aziza

Aziza got ready for another dreadful day of school, filled with kids that judged you based on your status, wealth, and looks. The generic style she had going on sufficiently allowed her to get by, though it was obvious her pockets had succumbed to emptiness. Aziza’s first stop after waking up was to go into the shower where she sang a few songs and made sure to get herself clean. After getting out, she combed her hair back, putting it in a quick ponytail, before heading into the closet.

Inside the closet, she picked out a big grey sweater, black jeans, and black high top vans to match. Some would say her sense of style was plain and had barely any effort put into it. She’d say it was the most she could afford at the time, and not to mention extremely comfortable.

Why should she have to go to school, a place she hated the most, spend most of her time there, and then be expected to dress like she’s a Hollywood star? These were the thoughts that filled Aziza’s head almost every day. She understood the whole, "it's like dressing up for your future job thing", but not at its entirety. In fact, with the direction Aziza was heading, her idea of a job seemed to be staying home and dabbling in freelancing, refreshing her brain with new creative ideas, and nonetheless never having to work under a boss or someone with expectations that she didn't feel like reaching.

Once Aziza was ready, she began walking to high school. You pay the price when having a brain sometimes, and apparently, that's just how life worked for her. She entered the building, heading straight for her locker, taking out books before getting ready to head to class.

Aziza wasn't a clumsy person, but when a six-foot giant bumps into your shorter five-foot two-frame, then you would expect someone to fall, that someone being Aziza. She looked up at the person only to find a glare being directed straight at her. If looks could kill, Aziza swore she’d be not only underground but burning in the pits of hell with the devil playing jazz music as punishment for all the bad things she had supposedly done to the boy.

Bumping into the "lord" himself would get you into hell, or so this guy perceived himself to be.

"Watch it," he barked harshly, without helping Aziza or uttering a teensy apology. The earphones, loudly blasting from his ears, and the continuous scrolling on that overly expensive phone of his had indicated clearly that he was at fault, and yet his long powerful strides moved faster than she could get up to make a retort to.

One thing Aziza learned from freshmen and sophomore year was that she was tired of being the same girl that would get pushed over like she used to allow herself to be. Consistently stuck doing other brainless idiots' homework, and looked down upon for being able to keep up with the teacher's lectures. She made sure to promise herself that she wasn't going to change for anyone or anything at that damn school.

This meant whenever Aziza felt like someone was looking down on her, she would speak up against them and show them who she truly was. The nerd who hates school, but does her homework so she can have a future. The gamer girl who'd do anything to achieve things in-game. The motorcycle fanatic, and secret, eye for design when it came to graphics. The real Aziza that no one cared to see, and the one that she allowed people to see as well.

The way that boy walked over her, blamed her for bumping into him, and then brushed her aside, lit a fire under Aziza about the promises she made herself. "The next time I see that jerk, he is going to be in for some real fun", she thought while smirking to herself. And once she lowered her raised fist, that was the indication that Aziza’s change had begun.

"Hey! Aziza girl, do you remember me? We'd always study together freshman and sophomore year. Look, I need your help right now, there's this quiz in my math test today that the whole class is dreading. I just want you to take a look at the questions and maybe write me as many answers as-".

"No", Aziza stated firmly despite holding her tongue. You'd think she was being rude to someone who politely asked a simple question, but in reality the girl was one of the most annoying and fake girls you’d ever meet. Aziza couldn't help but deny her simple request in satisfaction, showing she was officially done with her s**t.

Her name was Mya Stoney, a girl that pretended for two years that she "cared about Aziza”, though the only time they talked was when she wanted help with her homework or even tests. When other people came to Aziza with their jealousy, Mya somehow was never around. Instead she stayed away whenever possible, talking about Aziza behind her back to people who didn't know her. They weren't friends, and Aziza learned that real quick. Enough to take action and stop herself from being used all over again.

"Hey, why not? You used to help me before", she whined as Aziza grew more and more irritated. "Do I look like a walking encyclopedia to you," she replied to the girl. She just wanted to head to class, bang her head against her desk, and then get home to play some games. There was no point in wasting time around a bunch of useless individuals.

"Why are you talking to me like that, Aziza? I thought we were frie-."

"Oh, you can just pipe it with that Mya, don't act like you and me were ever friends, Aziza said with a snort.

"Last time I checked, "friends" don't only speak to each other when one is too stupid to do their work. Friends also don't spread rumors behind others'backs and call them names when they're in front of people as a joke".

"I don't know what definition of friends you know, but I suggest going back to studying it. Now, if you will excuse me, I got to go to class," Aziza told her while finally snapping.

She didn't mean to be harsh, but it was a serious deal she made with herself about not letting others walk over her. She was tired of the people around her who held ulterior motives. Aziza left the girl there with her jaw hanging down and then entered the classroom, sitting at the back.

Six hours of Aziza’s life were wasted in that hell. She couldn't wait to get home and play Hero's Playground.

-Christopher

Chris had just entered school while listening to his favorite song, doing his best to ignore the others around him. Silently he walked to class, ready to get the day started when, all of a sudden, there was a tiny bump against him. Looking down, he saw a small girl who had landed on her butt, gently holding her forehead, with eyebrows creased in confusion.

If he were in any other place, there would have been no problem helping her up, but at that school, the girls only bumped into him for one thing. They wanted Chris to play the prince's boyfriend for them, help them up, and then do their best to get him attracted to them so that they could boast about being able to be with the "ice king."

The ice king was Chris’s nickname. One, he couldn't deny that he deserved the title. After all, he wasn't known for being the most friendly guy at the school, but for some reason, girls liked the way he acted in their twisted sick minds and battled to get something out of him. Not to mention, Chris was one of the richest guys there, and, of course, had the looks to back it all up.

With a harsh breath, he said to the girl, "Watch it," before walking away, not sparing her a second glance. Truth be told; she was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen, and being a junior, it was a surprise to notice he hadn't seen her around. Maybe she was a new student, or she had been there all along. Whatever it was, Chris tried his best to ignore his sudden attraction.

The way she casually dressed did catch his attention the most, but there was nothing more to it than that. He would most likely never see that girl, since he never paid attention to the people around him anyway. To Chris, they were all useless. Simply, trying to stuff everyone in their little boxes. No, Chris didn’t want to be narrated, down to just any category. He was rich, okay. Handsome? Fine, but something else they wouldn't know about him, and if they did, it would only be because he allowed them to.