electric youth - ziam au

o n e

Liam James Payne walked into his brand new high school with his head up and his mind in the best place. His arms were covered in white band aids and his head was topped with a flower crown made from the white carnations he found outside at the park down the road. He had on a black and white striped shirt, black jeans that were slightly cuffed, along with full black converse carefully tied onto his feet.

He walked with such confidence that you would stare every time he came into view. It wouldn't be in a manner of the fact that a boy with scuffed up arms and a girls headpiece on is walking as if he was born king, but for the fact that you wish you could be that way.

Walking down the halls as if nothing could ever hurt you.

Although, even Liam wasn't like that.

The boy kept walking all the way to his locker. He walked past classrooms full of people, trying not to break under all the turning heads, and pushed foreword. It was on the second floor, and took Liam a whopping ten minutes to find it, but he continuously thanked for the fact that he was alone in these hallways. Getting lost is something he'd rather take on solo.

Of course it's hard to be a new student, there is no doubt about it, but Liam was quite excited. His parents, with much help from Liam's old (and very pushy) counselor, had agreed to move Liam to London, renting an apartment just like their other one in the heart if the city and signing Liam up for high school.

He was a junior this year, which made him very happy. Lets just say he couldn't lie and say he didn't have a countdown until the end of senior year, when all his hard earned money may just get him a studio apartment in the city and a light job as a radio DJ. He looked foreword to that day, when he was finally rid of everyone he was absolutely sure he could live without, and filled his life with the only people he loved and cared for (which, as of today, he could only count one).

He didn't really have any classes today, it was meant to be a complete orientation in the offices and getting settled in with his new counselor and therapist, who his parents insisted be though the school, so that he wouldn't be dragging money out of their pockets.

This time, he told himself, school would be better. He would make it better. Happier. No more of the shit he had worked himself into before. This was his new start, and even though he was still forced into the same, careless family with no one to accompany him but himself, he was not going to put himself down... this was he chance to be himself. It was his chance to stand out and up for himself. The time to not care about opinions and to be his happiest alone.

As he walked to the office, the bell rang and students seemed to just pour out of the walls. He began to walk faster, throwing his confidence away and making it to the office as quick as he could. There, he was handed a schedule and was told to come back after his lunch period, which was next. All the front desk ladies told him he was welcome to eat in the library instead of the cafeteria if he'd like, and Liam began to walk that way. He went back to his locker first, though, squeezing past all the intimidating face to his lock.

He decided not to eat lunch today, even though the store bought sandwich looked very appetizing. He reached for his bag, throwing it onto his back and walking off.

He put in his headphones, really unsure if you were allowed to, and walked to into the library. He pulled a small book out of his backpack before working his way into the shelves and to a small, closed off corner where he could sit politely. He turned his music up more, slowly opening his little book and beginning to doodle.

He wouldn't say he was a good artist, no, that's not what he did. Liam wrote poetry. He had book upon books full of poetry, the words engulfed ith little pictures of what inspires him and what he loves. Today, he drew to hands at the top of the page. They were very sketched out and no where near artistic, but they meant something to him. He wrote the poem within their hands, their fingers seeming to speak to one another in a story of love and wonder. Under, Liam drew a small face, continuing his poem around it. It flew in a light way, as if its pages had become air and Liam was floating among the clouds with his favorite songs playing behind him.