Rhodes High School, Noeden, Massachusetts | October 1st, 13:02

With any luck, he'd be known as the guy who snorted a glow stick.

Gadrien was thankful that the principal's regular secretary was still out sick. The substitute secretary didn't know him, nor did she particularly care that he was there. The only acknowledgement she gave him was the occasional dismissive, disapproving look she tossed his way. She leered when he sorely sniffled through the rag he held to his nose or when he shifted in the uncomfortable wooden chair.

To her, he was just some stupid kid who got caught on the wrong end of a fight. Which wasn't wrong. To him, she was just some lady with a bad blonde dye job and a haircut that gave off the vibe that she would demand to see a manager wherever she went no matter how petty or small the reason. Which based on how she leered, wasn't wrong.

He pulled the cold rag away from his nose, inspecting the glowing specks slowly extinguishing in the smears of red on the cloth. Maybe glitter glue would be a better excuse than a glowstick. After all, the guys who had cornered him had grabbed him just outside of the school's art room.

Again he shifted in the cheap wood chair, trying to get some relief for his burning back muscles. The chair creaked. The substitute secretary blithely shot him another sharp look for existing. His back still hurt.

Gadrien was tall, with a mop of chocolate curls and he had somewhat crooked teeth that were much sharper than they appeared. Despite his attackers being able to give him a nosebleed, he had a strong, not-yet-broken nose set between two, deep-set dark hazel eyes. He frequently changed schools, so he was always the new kid. He was a little clumsy... It was enough of a repellant in most of the schools he'd been to. But the fight hadn't been about his physical appearance or stepping on someone else's toes.

He heard the office door open, and though he couldn't see from where he sat, the confused look of the substitute secretary behind the counter told him enough.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm here to pick up my son, Gadrien Dihalo," Gadrien heard his father say. "I was told there was an incident."

The secretary's face scrunched in clear confusion, looking between Gadrien and the man at her counter. "I'll have to see if you're on his approved guardians list before he can leave. What's your name?"

"Warren Kasdeja," his father said, clearly suppressing a sigh. "And again, I'm his father. I'm on the list."

Just as the substitute secretary was about to kick up a fuss - about how it was for the supposed safety of the students, or staff, or whatever else she could think of - the principal emerged from her office.

The principal of Gadrien's current school was an older woman named Ms. Novak. Gadrien's other father, Eric, once described the woman as Dolly Parton-esque but colored in with a highlighter. Graying, once-strawberry hair was pulled back into a lively, loose bun, and she wore what had to have been the world's only fluorescent floral blazer with a bright yellow lipstick to match.

"Mr. Kasdeja, I've been expecting you!" the principal said very firmly, flashing a tight-lipped, no-teeth smile at the substitute secretary in warning. She turned back to Gadrien's father and held out her hand.

A rich, brown reached back to shake the principal's. The man that stepped into view was tall and on the thin side, with honey-colored hair that was slicked back and facial hair neatly trimmed into a circle beard. He wore a brown leather jacket and dark jeans, with a goldenrod scarf neatly tucked around his neck. Seafoam-colored eyes briefly locked with Gadrien's, silently asking if he was okay and promising to discuss it later in the car.

"I was told there was an incident," Warren cocked a brow, looking back to Ms. Novak. He gave her a closed-mouth smile, much gentler than the one she had given the secretary.

Her smile only wavered for a quick moment. She turned to Gadrien and motioned for both of them to follow her into her office. It was tight with all three of them inside, lined with books and binders. She sat at her desk, her back to the large windows behind her.

"Well, there was a bit of an altercation with some other boys," she started. "Rest assured that we do not condone this type of behavior at our school, and they were punished appropriately."

The car ride back home was quiet, but not heavy with silence. Warren glanced occasionally at Gadrien and Gadrien continued to stare out the window at the trees that rushed by.

"She tried to dig out of that hole pretty fast," Warren offered with a sigh. "But you were strangely quiet."

Gadrien sorely sniffed. Though his nose had stopped bleeding, it still hurt. His back still felt like his muscles were burning. "Wouldn't have mattered anyways."

Warren frowned, the corners of his eyes crinkled as they narrowed and focused on the road in front of them. "All I know is you were jumped again. She said her piece. I'd like to know how deep the hole is this time, Gade."

He chewed on his tongue for a moment, trying to feel like talking. "Four jackasses got me outside the art room, out back near the trash." He pressed his forehead against the car door. "They slammed me against the corner of a dumpster like fifty times. Took turns punching me. Said I deserved it for having two queers for dads."

Warren took one hand off the steering wheel to scratch at his chin. "You didn't fight back, did you?"

"No." Gadrien folded his arms close to his chest. The motion felt like it was pulling his back apart.

With the bullying getting worse he wished he had fought back, been allowed to fight back. He could take more damage than his human classmates and Gadrien felt could certainly give it back. If not with his fists, then maybe he could have taken a bite from one of his attackers. But it was too important to stay hidden, to stay looking Human.

"And these jackasses," the swear sounded off coming from him, "They saw you bleed?"

"I was sitting there in the principal's office with a bloody nose," Gadrien reminded him. "Whole school probably thinks I sniff glitter glue."

Warren gave a guttural sigh, an almost inhuman noise the teenager could never make. "This is a pretty big hole, Gade."

Gadrien stayed quiet. He stayed, arms folded and head pressed to the window, long enough that he had barely notice they had turned onto their road. Finally, he muttered: "I'm guessing we're not going to the hospital."

"You must not be too beat up to still make jokes like that," Warren said. "You're walking and talking, so nothing's broken."

"My back hurts."

As they pulled into the driveway, Warren nodded. "Go get cleaned up and I'll be in to look your over. We can decide what to do from there."

Gadrien briefly played with the car door handle, then turned to look at his father. "Are you telling dad?"

Warren turned off the engine and gripped the steering wheel. "Things have been getting worse in recent years, you and your sister both know that." His dark thumbs played with the wheel's grip bumps. "This is the second time you've been jumped since we've moved. I'm not going to not call him about it."

Eric, Gadrien's other father, was often gone on business trips. Old world business trips. Though Warren and Eric liked to try to keep Gadrien and his sister, Hellena, out of just what went on during these trips, it wasn't hard to guess that the purpose was Alengian in nature. The most recent one that had called Eric away had popped up suddenly - urgently - and resulted in him leaving in the middle of the night. Gadrien had heard him muttering about a "shadow of Zhembala" the night he left.

"Yeah. He went off and I got the shit kicked out of me," Gadrien said, opening the car door. "Wouldn't want him to have to stop whatever he's doing to come home, right?"

"Gadrien-"

But Gadrien had already flung open the car door and was halfway to the front door.