fandomhigh | Goth Eye for the Prep Guy

Abby was waiting for the class, wearing her usual goth attire and holding a black parasol. "Morning, guys! Welcome to a really twisted version of fashion class. You're going to learn the ins and outs of the best looking fashion trend to hit geeks and vampires. Or geeks who like to pretend to be vampires and vice versa."

She held up a stuffed rabbit that seemed to have very sharp pointy teeth. "This is Poindexter and he wants to be a goth. He's got a head start because he's already pale. For those of you who aren't pale, you're either going to need to start staying indoors or investing in some pasty makeup. Speaking of makeup, the next step in Poindexter's transformation is eyeliner. Lots and lots of eyeliner. All black of course. That goes for guys just as much as girls." As Abby talked, she took eyeliner and drew carefully around the rabbit's eyes.

"Next we move onto clothing and one word sums up the clothing for a true goth....black." Abby whipped out a wee pair of black trousers and a black top with buckles. "Some goths will tell you that you need lace or leather or velvet. But really, all you need is black. Lots and lots of black. Rule of thumb is to stand in front of a mirror and then turn off the lights. If you look like more than just a disembodied head, you need more black. Also, this top has buckles. Goths like buckles. I'm not really sure why...maybe we have some psychological attachment to the pilgrims or something."

"Last but not least....accessories!" Abby fastened an ankh necklace around Poindexter's neck and a studded bracelet around his front paw. Grabbing a pair of tiny platform boots, she started wiggling them onto his back paws. "As you can see, the bigger the boot, the better. In fact, all your shoes should be tall and clunky. Between the shoes, the jewelry, the buckles and the obvious pain of existence; the only quiet thing about a goth should be their clothing color choices."

"Now, lets see how well you all were listening." Abby said and pointed to a box decorated with a pink polo shirt with a red X through it. "Get rid of all your non-goth clothes here. That's right, dump in your pastels and your chinos and your sneakers. Make a new outfit from the supplies on the table."

[~~Plz to be waiting for OCD~~ OCD up! Play!]

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He didn't know where half of the stuff would go. But he picked up a couple safety pins, and started to pin them all together to make a necklace. He always felt like he should be wearing a chain or something.

And he feels very at home in the all black of his outfit.

He reaches for the nailpolish. Mostly because he knows he can spend any free time picking it off. It doesn't go on as easily as he thinks, though. Very smudgy.

"Short, even strokes, dude," Jude told him mellowly, with all the experience of having three girl best friends who considered him fair game for, well, everything. "And dab the edges with a tissue so it doesn't get all over your fingers."

Done this before? Yes. A couple of times.

He looks up, and looks back down.

"I've never done any of this before," he explains. "Olette doesn't wear makeup."

But he does as instructed, and it looks a little less smudgy.

"Who's Olette?" Jude's tongue was poking out in concentration as he lined his already pierced ear with extra (fake) studs. "I'm Jude, dude, by the way."

"I'm Roxas. Olette's a girl I know back home. She's part of my gang," he explains as he continues putting the polish on his nails.

"You've got your ear pierced?"

"Cool." Jude tugged on the little silver hoop. "Yep, got it a couple years ago."

"It didn't hurt?" he asks. He doesn't wince, though - he's had worse than a piercing when he's been fighting with Seifer's gang. "I mean, it probably didn't, but... didn't it hurt?"

"Yeah, a little bit - but just for like five minutes. The tat was totally worse."

"Tat?"

Sixteen year old boy who lives completely outside the vicinity of anything that would be called a body modification center.

On the plus side, though, one of his hands is completely smudge-free!

"Tattoo," Jude expanded, pointing at his backside.

His eyes go wide.

"Oh. I don't need to see that."

There's a lot of nodding, mostly to himself.

"What is it of?"

"Dude, it's like right there. You won't see anything else." But it was mellow and he didn't push. "Just a peace sign."

He chews his lip for a second, and then sneaks a glance.

Luckily, he doesn't see anything other than the tattoo.

"That does look like it'd hurt."

"Couldn't sit down for like three days," he confirmed.

"That must have sucked," Roxas replies, but it's with a sort of amused little smile. "What'd you do for the three days?"

"Leaned."

He actually laughs, shaking his head.

"That's a lot of hassle for a tattoo."

"The look on my mom's face was worth it. I felt kinda bad about it after though. I was being all teenage rebellion-y."

"Isn't feeling bad about it directly contradictory?" he asks, and smiles. He wouldn't know anything about teenage rebellion. The worst thing he's ever done is gone to Sunset Terrace without telling his parents.

"Yeah . . . never really been good at crossing my parents," he said sheepishly. "How's my pallor?" He patted the white makeup once more for good measure.

"Ghostly," comes the amused reply. "Am I smiling too much?"

Which is not a question he ever thought he'd hear himself asking. Mostly because he doesn't usually smile.