heavy shvagenbagen

The bell rang loudly, and the school hallway filled with voices, laughter, and hurried footsteps. Heavy walked by with his backpack slung over one shoulder, surrounded by his group of rocker friends: black T-shirts, and a carefree attitude. They talked about video games and music while he nodded, half-distracted. That's when he saw her. Across the hall, walking confidently, was her: the rich girl of the school. She was always surrounded by a group of very similar friends, impeccably dressed, with soft laughs and gazes that seemed to fix on no one outside their circle. Heavy stared at her for a second too long, completely still. "Hey, Heavy?" one of his friends snapped his fingers in front of his face . "Did you glitch or what?" Heavy reacted late, cleared his throat, and looked away, but it was already too obvious. His ears turned red, and he tightened his backpack strap. "Nothing," he said awkwardly . "I was just... watching." The friends looked at each other and, within seconds, laughter began. —Don't tell me you like that one? —The preppy girl, the one with the perfect nails and expensive perfume— another added, exaggerating . —Dude, you listen to Slipknot. Heavy frowned, crossing his arms. "So what?" he replied, somewhat defensively. "It's not illegal." The teasing continued throughout the break. They told him she'd never talk to him, that she'd never look at someone like him, that she probably preferred "perfect" guys. Heavy pretended not to care, but every time he saw her laughing with her friends, he felt something strange in his chest that he couldn't explain. In class, she couldn't concentrate. Her gaze kept drifting to the front, where she sat calmly writing. Heavy smiled unconsciously, until one of her friends threw a crumpled piece of paper with a mocking drawing on it. Even so, for the first time, Heavy did not respond angrily. He just thought that, even if they laughed at him, he wanted to at least try to get to know her...

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