Splattered Paint

Chapter One

Dylan Morrison really wasn't that shy; but having recently come out, and given the unpleasant nature of his parents' divorce, it was understandable that he had some reservations concerning his first day at his new school.

He frowned at his appearance in the mirror, concerned that he looked too feminine, too obviously gay, because he would really prefer to not get beaten up on his first day. He pursed his lips, bemoaning the set of his hair and the fact that his eyelashes made it look like he was wearing eyeliner and gave up the fight to look like one of the crowd.

He was actually grateful that the school sent someone to show him around, because West High was significantly larger and scarier than his old high school. The boy they sent was a small, delicate-looking Chinese boy who was about half a foot shorter than Dylan. He was well dressed, and had a bright smile.

"Hello," the boy said cheerfully. "I'm John, John Chen. You must be Dylan, am I right?"

"Yeah." Dylan brushed a strand of dark blond hair from his face. "Dylan Morrison."

"Yeah, okay." John led the way through the school, throwing comments back over his shoulder. "So the school isn't really that hard to figure out. This is the main hall, the others branch off. Fifties, sixties, yeah. 0 – 4 is on the right, 5 – 9 is on the left. So where would 58 be?"

"On the left?" Dylan put forth hesitantly.

John grinned at him. "Yeah, that's right. Look, so this is the main building. The English building – that's where the lower numbered rooms are – is attached here –" he pointed at a corridor "– and upstairs. Upstairs is where the history classrooms are, and the foreign languages too. The art classroom – you're taking art, right? – is in the old autoshop, which is just past room 100. Okay?"

"Yeah, I think I've got it." Dylan stared around at the students, all of whom looked ridiculously tan and beautiful. "So, what's it like here?"

"Probably a lot different than where you're from." John glanced over at him shyly. "They said you're from New York."

"Yeah. New York City. I went to a private school, though. Very small." He looked around apprehensively. "Not like this."

"Well, West isn't too bad for a public school. But that's mostly because – well. Luke."

"Who's Luke?" Dylan asked curiously, because John had a look of reverence on his face.

"Luke is the undisputed leader of the school. God – Luke, is like, amazing." He glanced over at a group of teens. "See that girl there? The pretty one with the guy on her arm?"

Dylan looked over, and saw an Italian-looking girl with long dark hair and dark eyes smiling up at her handsome boyfriend (or so he assumed), noting the designer jeans and carefully made-up face. "Yeah?"

"She's Luke's twin sister, Carly Bianchi. They're nothing alike." John had this look on his face, sneaky and somewhat pleased. "It's just – look, Carly's kinda the supposed head, but everyone acknowledges that it's Luke who really runs things around here."

"What do you mean by supposed head?" Dylan inquired curiously, looking at Carly. She was pretty, darkly beautiful and she seemed okay for being one of the really popular people.

"Well, you know. She's president of student council, she's popular…in most schools, that would mean that she would rule the school. But that's not how it works here. Luke rules through fear and respect. Truly Machiavellian."

At that moment, the tide of students parted like the red sea before two extraordinary students, who seemed oblivious to the sudden silence of the hall. Dylan watched them pass through lowered lashes, and thought he could tell why they were important.

One was tall and thin, and was probably a boy, if the lack of a chest and hips were to be taken into account, but he was by far the prettiest boy Dylan had ever seen. White-blond hair fell artfully across his forehead, framing a delicately-feature pale face. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, and Dylan thought maybe he saw a hint of color on the lids. Slim and elegant, he radiated confidence despite his feminine appearance. At Dylan's side, John stared in unabashed admiration. As though sensing their stares, the boy turned his head and fixed John with a searing black gaze. After a moment, a smile touched his lips, and he winked before turning away.

But despite the boy's extraordinary beauty, the eye was drawn to the curvy, dark girl beside him, who was at least half a foot shorter than him. She looked much like Carly Bianchi, but a cold glint in her eye and the set of her mouth set her apart from the more cheerful girl. She was speaking in a quiet undertone to the boy, her slim fingers drumming on the strap of her messenger bag. A gold ring glinted on her left hand, which was smeared with ink, and there was a matching smear across one cheek, but it didn't make her look young or foolish. Her dark eyes flickered over Dylan before dismissing him. The two figures turned down one of the branching halls, and the other students slowly began to speak again.

"Who are they?" Dylan breathed, staring after them.

"Luke Bianchi and Martin Bors." John shrugged. "Well, Luke's real name is Lucrezia, but she hates that, so…"

"Wait, you're telling me that Luke, ruler of this school, is a girl?" Dylan asked in surprise. John blinked at him.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying." A bell rang, and John muttered something under his breath. "You can find your way to your first class?"

"I think so." Dylan glanced around. "I'll find it. I'll see you at lunch?"

"Or maybe we'll have a class together, who knows." John turned and darted down the hall, leaving Dylan alone. He looked around before he turned and went down the sixties hall to his English class.

The teacher looked up when he came in and smiled. "You must be Dylan. I'm Ms. Simmons."

"Hi," he said shyly. "Where do I sit?"

"Second row, last seat on the left." The teacher smiled brightly, teeth flashing against her tan skin. "I promise you won't have to announce yourself."

"Okay, thanks." Dylan blushed a little, but took his seat. The teacher left the room, leaving Dylan to stare as a group of tanned Adonises entered the room.

"Oh, look," one said, spotting Dylan. "A new kid. Looks faggoty to me, what do you guys think?" Most of the others seemed to agree, jeering in low voices. They nudged each other companionably, and ended up coming off far more gay than Dylan did.

"Knock it off, Kevin," one of the others said, sounding long-suffering.

"Shut up, Aaron." The first one, who appeared to be the leader, leaned forward into Dylan's face. "What's your name, faggot?"

"Hello, boys," a distinctly feminine voice said from somewhere behind the boys. "Any trouble?"

The group of boys split up instantly, revealing the face of Luke Bianchi, one eyebrow raised. She looked them over, her gaze pausing very slightly on Dylan before she looked at Aaron. "Come on, Aaron, I thought you were better than this. And Kevin." She stepped forward, and ran a finger down Kevin's jaw. "I thought we had a…talk about this."

Kevin visibly flinched. "Sorry, Luke. I –"

"Don't apologize to me," she said, her voice icy. "Apologize to him."

Kevin flushed angrily, but turned to Dylan and muttered, "Sorry."

"Good." Luke cocked her head to the side. "You can go now."

The boys scattered to their seats, leaving the girl to look down at Dylan, one hand propped on her hip.

"I apologize for them, kiddo." She dropped her bag on the floor and slid into the seat next to him. "I've been trying to get them in line, but boys like that – it's so hard to get anything to stick. I'm Luke Bianchi. I would imagine you've been warned about me?"

"Um, yeah," Dylan said quietly, a bit taken aback by her abrupt change of attitude. She was definitely not what he had imagined. When she smiled, it changed her whole demeanor, and she looked more like her sister than an angry Machiavellian ruler.

She laughed, a genuinely friendly laugh. "I guess John told you? He's like that. Totally in love with Tina, but what can you do? I think everyone's a little in love with Tina, even those boys over there." She jerked her head over to the boys who were casting furtive looks at Luke, with the exception of Aaron, who was reading a book. "Tina's beauty makes them a little apprehensive about their heterosexuality, which I find amusing."

"What?" Dylan frowned. "I don't understand."

Just then, the door opened again, and the boy John had identified as Martin Bors came in, flicking a strand of nearly white hair from his face. "Hey Luka. Made a new friend?"

"Yes. Tina, meet…" She trailed off, looking at Dylan. "I never got your name."

"Dylan. Dylan Morrison." Martin smiled, and Dylan was struck by just how brilliant it was.

"You were standing with John Chen," he remarked. "I do like that boy, he's such a dear. Plays cello so beautifully, I think I could cry."

"Oh, stop being so girly and sit down, Tina." Martin laughed, a high, tinkling sound, and he swung into the seat next to Luke. His long legs crossed in front of him, and Dylan was briefly transfixed by the slim shape of his limbs. Luke snapped her fingers in front of his face and smiled when Dylan blushed.

"Look, I doubt I'll have a problem with you, kid, but just a warning." Her expression suddenly hardened. "My reputation is not exactly inaccurate. I can and will beat the shit out of you if you harass or insult anyone based on gender, age, race, creed, or sexuality. I do not put up with that. I know it sounds perverse, but it seems to have worked for the most part."

"People don't try to beat me up anymore," Martin said quietly. "Not since Luka started dealing out punishments."

Luke laughed suddenly. "You make me sound like a dominatrix, Tina." They grinned at each other, and Dylan recognized the ties of long friendship. He squashed any irrational feelings of jealousy at that, and watched as Luke swatted Martin across the back of the head.

"Ouch, Luka," Martin groused. "That fucking hurt."

"Good," she said viciously, but she grinned so hard that Dylan thought her face might actually split.

---

He was sitting alone at lunch when Luke plopped a tray next to him. "Hey, kid. I hope you don't mind that I sit here."

"No, it's okay." He blinked as Martin sat across from her. "But. Um. I'm expecting John to sit with me?"

"That's all right," Luke said calmly. "I like him."

"John Chen?" Martin asked with interest, taking a bite of salad. "I like that kid. He's cute. He's also a brilliant cello player."

"Why do you two call everyone kid?" Dylan demanded, exasperated. "It's not like we're not in the same grade."

They exchanged glances and shrugged in unison.

"We just do," Luke explained. "It's the way we do things. I mean. We act older than everyone we know, and we kinda just got in the habit."

"Plus it makes us sound cool," Martin added. They grinned at each other and Martin plucked at strand of hair in what looked like embarrassment. John came over and looked startled when he saw the people Dylan was sitting with. He hesitated before picking the spot next to Martin, and chose to ignore the grin Luke shot at her friend.

"Hello," he said quietly.

"John Chen," Martin said cheerfully. "You and I should get together for a flute and cello duet one of these days."

"You think?" he asked in astonishment, eyes going wide. There was the faintest hint of a flush to his cheeks as he looked at Martin.

"Yeah." Martin grinned, teeth white and perfect. "You're good, you know?"

John blushed furiously, and he shook his head. "I'm only okay, I'm not great."

"Yes you are!" Luke exclaimed. "I've heard you play, you're fantastic." She ruffled his hair. "Don't sell yourself short, kid."

"Oh-oh...okay," John stuttered. "Um. Thanks?"

Luke smiled slightly, and nudged Martin. He winked at her, and then licked his lips. John choked on his lettuce.

---

Dylan entered the art classroom, and found a giant warehouse of a room, hosting dozens of tables and easels. He looked around, and saw numerous people already there, splattered with paint and plaster. One girl with dyed blue hair and a lip ring grinned at Dylan and nudged the boy next to her. The guy turned, and Dylan's eyes widened, because it was Aaron from earlier.

Aaron was ridiculously handsome in a way that made Dylan very self-conscious. He had sun-bleached hair and tanned skin, a swimmer's build, and his face was all smooth planes, not to mention a self-consciousness that was endearing. Aaron's blue eyes fastened on Dylan's, and there was a long moment.

"Kid, you're in art?" Luke's voice said from behind him. He turned to see her standing with her hip cocked to one side, blue paint smearing across her cheekbone. "Cool."

"Take the easel next to me!" the blue haired girl shouted across the room. Luke grinned at the girl, and nodded to Dylan, as if giving permission.

Dylan took the easel and sketched roughly, plotting out the lines of a portrait. He was finishing the eyes when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He whirled around to see Aaron standing there, somewhat awkwardly.

"Um, hi." Aaron scratched his head. "Um. I'm sorry about my friends earlier. They're kind of…well. They're assholes, really."

"Then why are you friends with them?" Dylan asked bluntly. Aaron blinked at him, clearly startled.

"You're…not as shy as I thought you were," he remarked after a moment. He chewed his lip for a few seconds and then said, "Well, we're in swimming together. They're…I've been friends with them for a long time."

"I keep telling you to come hang out with me and my friends," the blue haired girl said. "And Aaron, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh. Dylan, this is Marcia." Marcia made a face, and scratched her nose. Dylan noticed with interest that she had tattoos across her knuckles.

"Isn't that name horrible?" she asked cheerfully. "I keep trying to change it. I'm leaning towards Shia right now, but that'll just get me associated with that boy actor kid…name, name."

"Le Bouf," Dylan provided. She grinned brightly.

"Yep, that's the one." She slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "You're awesome, Dylan. Be my best friend."

"He's taken," Luke said from behind them. "John Chen staked his claim this morning." Marcia and Luke shared a grin. Aaron smiled faintly and returned to his easel.

---

When his dad asked how school was, all Dylan said was, "Interesting."

---

A/N: Welcome to my new story. This story is going to me more of a character study, coming of age story than my others. There will be slashy elements, as should be clear from certain things this chapter.

I have some other business to take care of. First of all: I make no promises about the speed of updates, since that only results in me killing myself to make deadlines. Secondly, a really long bounty hunter one shot is in the works - does anyone want to beta? Thirdly, there are at least two other side projects I'm working on that will at some point end up on here. Plus another long one shot. Finally, the sequels to The Not-So-Celibate Life will appear once I've written them, and once I've ensured that I won't lose interest in them.