Wisconsin, 1998
"Come on," came a familiar voice, "you need breakfast so you can head to your first day of school." Otis slowly dragged his comforting sheets aside and practically rolled out of bed. His mother marched out of the room as he began to regain his senses. 'One more torturous year of school,' he thought to himself, squeezing into his undersized uniform. Every time he carried out this particular ritual, he wished that his school was like other schools and that they didn't have to wear some fashion-crime clothes.
"Hey, no-brain," called Anastasia, his sister, as she lumbered into the room. "I'm not being late on the first day of school just because you're too lazy to put on your damn uniform and go eat breakfast. Hurry up." Otis barged past her without a glance, as if she didn't exist, and found himself on the balcony overlooking the great hall.
It was an incredibly classy and spacious house, especially considering the fact that their mom had been paying off the whole mortgage by herself ever since their dad died. He made his way down the carpeted stairs into the kitchen, where a solitary bowl of Choco Pops was sitting out for him. He took a few spoonfuls before pouring the rest away on his route to the bathroom. As he squeezed a line of toothpaste on his brush, he caught a glimpse of his light complexion in the mirror. He had striking blue eyes that stood out like a lighthouse at night. His blonde hair was messy but wavy, like the ocean on a particularly windy day. His jawline was sharp, quite unlike his bushy, overgrown brows.
On his way to the car, he slung his heavy backpack over his shoulders and patted his pockets to make sure he'd remembered to bring cash for lunch. As he climbed into the backseat of his overly lavish car, he shut his eyes tight and pictured his first day back at school. He knew it was going to be bad, maybe a few bullies, but he couldn't imagine what was really in store.