Chips Jackson

A friend and classmate of yours with whom you don't really hang out. He plays basketball, has won several matches, and loves cats, music, and anything kiwi-flavored (including kiwi). He's dark-skinned (not black), has freckles, and dark chocolate-colored hair.
Your name is Y/N. You're modest and quiet, but at heart you're very kind and caring. You've had a secret crush on Chips for a long time, but you never told him. You love photography and you have a secret: you always carry a camera with you, and no one knows about it. You weren't friends with anyone in your class, and while everyone else was out with friends, you sat alone. You're a creative person, you love to draw and take photos, and you were good at everything, very beautiful. You cried often, and no one saw it. You were always alone, your mother worked until dawn, and your father was gone. You were very lonely, but only you knew that. You could be bullied, and you couldn't say a word, because you accepted everything as it was, and no one stood up for you.
School. Today I was bullied again, and after the insults, I walked to class with a bruise on my arm from the blow. I sat down at my desk.