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It's About the Look... (w/ JR and ZX)


JR_TheRandomFan
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What can one say about a young man who crossdresses? One might go along as to call him strange,a freak, one that could be seen as having a kink for women's undergarments. But no one would wonder about how one would feel in that kind of guard,how much better off that they feel expressing that side of them that needs them to let this part showcased for all to see. For one young man that question plagued him for the majority of his life.

 

He called himself Char.

 

And for as long as he could remember, he felt much more comfortable dressing as a girl. Due to his feminine appearance one would believe that not many would question this choice. His father questioned this, teachers questioned this, classmates questioned this. They all wondered if there was something wrong with the brunette, asking what caused him to do this. And as with most frequent questions the young trap always answered the same.

 

"There's nothing wrong. I just feel more comfortable like this."

 

This answer would not sit well for most people. Char would know this by his sophomore year in high school. There was always someone, some group that would want to make a mockery of his choices. The teasing, the defacing of his locker, and even gaining up on the poor youth to beat on him. All of this, because he was different. Why would anyone do such a thing to a person just trying to be himself? Was it ignorance, or did they all hated what he was and wanted him to disappear? Char couldn't answer that even if he tried. All that the young trap could really do was to endure, pull through the mess and hope for a day without going home in tears. It would go on like this well into his junior year, and through that summer. The night before the first day of school Char gave one long look into a full length mirror and breathed a sigh."All right Char, listen up. Tomorrow is the first day of your senior year." He told his reflection." You may be pushed, teased, and even beaten up. But you can't let any of that put you down. You're strong, you've grown, you can handle yourself better than before. Just remember where you'll go. I know that you can make it." Having the reflection only stare back at him the brunette trap gave a small smile before heading off to bed.

 

The next day was sure to promise that he would keep his head high. Sanding at the front doors of Crest Hill High Char took one last assuring breath before walking in himself. He knew that he had eyes on him as soon as he began his trek through the halls. And thinking about it, he couldn't really blame them. His long dark locks were in their usual duel ponytail style, bright ribbons tying them in place. He wore a black dress that cut to his knees. The short sleeves of the dress were a dazzling white,almost making it look like he was wearing a shirt under the sleeveless covering. His white socks came just under his knee, almost pointing down towards the black flats that covered his feet. Char truly felt at peace with himself at that moment. He only wondered how long that feeling will last....

 

 

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Name:Charlie "Char" Jones

Age:17

Gender:Male

S/O:Homosexual

S/P:Uke

HT:5'3"

WT: 105 lbs

Info:Char is a trap that can be rather insecure. Due to his small stature and feminine build he is always the butt of many jokes. If you try to get to know Char, he can be very sweet, caring if you are very close.

 

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It wasn't uncommon for a group of friends to stay close by each other , to speak and behave as though they were separate from the rest of the world even though they were in truth in a sea of people, always at arms reach from a stranger or insignificant acquaintance who's name they can't remember. The hallway was littered with such small bunches of teenagers and by the windows lingered one such cluster of young men who differed from the other in all of the worse ways. These few, rather than isolate themselves wandered uncomfortably close to anyone they found interesting and pestered them with questions and clever remarks until the person would manage to shake them off their tale and run off. Even while their focus was on no one in particular, the group interrupted the passing stream of their peers who moved through the hallways by marching back and forth and yelling without warning every now and then. While they were only being a nuisance now anyone who had seen them before could confidently say that they were capable of causing much more chaos than this.

 

For the time being, three of them seemed more interested in a video that had been brought up in a conversation and was now playing on one of their phones and the fourth, Wren, staid a distance away leaned on one of the concrete pillars that ran through the outer wall of the building. Though it was early in the day, he'd already managed to become upset and was in an awful mood that was an inconvenience even to his friends.

 

Wren was noticeably the shortest of the bunch but simultaneously seemed the most bulky and most physically threatening with a muscular build and borderline arrogant, confident stature. He had his arms folded over his chest and continued to surveyed the hallway while the others fooled around. According to him, that was what they'd done the entire morning, fooled around and wasted time on ridiculous things. Though if he had been more himself that day he wouldn't have complained.

 

The view of the hall wasn't much, not nearly enough to keep him mind occupied and he soon became lost in thought until laying eyes on the oddity that was walking closer. Automatically, as though the reaction was programed in him even though the situation was new to him, Wren's features shifted into a harsh expression, gaze became colder though still curious and his body tensed noticeably. He made no effort to hide how much of his attention had become centered on the strangely dressed man and he watched him carefully not looking away for a moment once he'd caught sight of him.

 

When the other was walking right past him, Wren lightly pushed himself from the pillar to straighten up and came a few steps closer while still studying the young man with his gaze. There was certainly something menacing in the way he held himself now, as he was noticeably more irritated but he didn't follow the other or do anything else threatening. In stead, he shifted his weight uncomfortably, also as a side effect of his foul mood, and eventually left his group of friend altogether as he was not up for more of their every day behavior.

 

 

Name: Wren Hallsteinn

Age: 18

Appearance: A stocky, short man built of muscle and some added weight. He has short cut brown hair that shows a red tint in the sun and light skin that has been marked with ink in a numbed of locations that are always hidden under his clothing so the images and letters remain a secret. His eyes are green, a dark olive along the rim and more light and vibrant around the pupil. Despite the either unpleasant or smug expressions he normally wears his features that are a mix of sharp and soft make up a rather handsome face.

Behavior: Strangely enough,Wren tends to either stand on the side lines and watch his surroundings with a critical eye as a mute bystander or be the center of happening and attract attention with his loud tone. He tends to yell and even without that his voice seemed rough thanks to his choice of words and pronunciation. It's difficult to get to know his personality beyond what he shows on the surface and understanding him is something that takes effort that hardly anyone is willing to put into someone who can become very unpleasant even with those close to him when he is having a bad day.

 

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There always seemed to be eyes following him.

 

Everywhere he went,those glaring and unforgiving eyes. The eyes that saw him as an oddity and not a person that was simply comfortable his own skin. It was something that the dear trap had already come to terms with.On his way towards his homeroom three guys glanced up from a centered point of a phone to look at him. "Oh great, it's that fag." One of them mumbled." What does he have to smile about?" The other two boys rolled their eyes before calling out to the brunette." HEY FREAK! Why don't you just head back home? I think you got a run in your tights." Char could only breath a gentle sigh before keeping his way. The boys were not exactly thrilled with this lack of reaction, so they began to tail him.

 

"Come on pretty boy, say something."

 

"Yeah, give us a smile."

 

Stopping in front of his homeroom's door Char glanced back towards his bullies without much as a sour look on his face." Now why would I give you that kind of satisfaction?" The young trap did not turn himself around. He only gave the same, tired look."Not even an hour has passed into this new year, and you lot are already bothering me. I made myself a promise, a promise that I intend to keep. Just turn yourselves around and let me be." Without giving them enough time to react Char pulled himself into the barely filled classroom and sat down. There wasn't much awareness of whoever was next to him. All that he could slightly capture was the rather irritated look that laid across his face at that moment.

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Having left the crowded hallway, Wren now occupied a desk at the back of the physics classroom and while the space was still mostly empty and quiet void for the hushed chatter of two girl in the first row, he took out one of the only two notebooks he carried with him and started to write numbers. Though hardly anyone liked to see him having a bad day because of how difficult it was to suffer through his anger, he was also the most likely to do something useful when he was upset and solving equation and similar problems was normally what he first thought of. He wasn't especially good with math but he had some interest in it and was lousy at mostly everything else and well aware of it.

 

This time though, Wren wasn't given much time to himself to accomplish something useful. Just as the room started to fill up with teenagers and moments before the teacher arrived to start the class, his buddies who he'd left in the hallway gathered around his desk and he was forced to shove the notebook right back into his backpack. Now, the mood of the other three seemed to match his own and with a palette of curse words they gave him a summary of what had happened. The crossdresser hadn't said anything provocative to the group but they found themselves insulted and challenged because he spoke back to them at all and that is why they were now pestering Wren again. He was the most physically intimidating of the group and the one to always put that strength to use, he knew what they expected of him before they even finished speaking and demanded it. Though ultimately uninterested in making a scene or getting into trouble and making that day even worse for himself, he agreed, feeling an odd sense of obligation towards his friends.

 

The upcoming class was written off as having less priority than the issue at hand and along with the others Wren left the classroom. They passed the time in pointless dispute while they waited for their unfortunate victim to appear again.

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With the first class of the day already done with Char simply walked the halls with the same relaxed mask that he wore when coming in. It might've started off rather rough but the day was beginning to shape up in his favor. As he breezily moved through the halls he was not aware the his bullies were from earlier had already had him in his sights." There he is Wren."One of the guy's mumbled." There's that little prick that told us off. Just sit tight while we get him and rough him up a bit." Looking over each other the three bullies begun to tail the young trap, swiftly taking him by the waist and lifting him off the ground.

 

"Put me down!" he protested."Let me go!"

 

With not many people in the halls at that point the three attackers were easily able to push Char against the wall, all giving him sickly smiles."Oh what's the matter?You were so tough earlier. Can't find yourself fighting back?" Char was going to answer but he was stopped when a hard punch was sent right to his stomach. He was doubling down on the floor, dropping his bag in the process. The pain of the blow was something he had not experienced in some time.Any attempts to recover would be proven fruitless for the trap was lifted by the arms and was being held tightly close to one of his attackers."Not so high and mighty now,aren't you?" He whispered harshly in his ear before biting roughly into it." You're nothing...You're only a crossdressing piece of trash." As one held on to his small frame the other two went back to beating and ripping into it."Come on Wren,join in on this." One said as he ripped a large tare in the sleeve of his dress." You have to see him squirm."

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In the beginning while his friends assaulted the odd young man, Wren took on the role of a silent bystander and only watched carefully, as though there was something intriguing in the way they abused the smaller male and dictated his movements with their punches and a restraining grip. Wren wasn't enthusiastic about joining in, he believed the trap deserved this, that he'd brought it on himself but his mood was still foul and he couldn't find anything interested in what was being done. He liked it much more when his buddies would pick a fight with someone more like themselves, he always felt more motivated to hurt someone when he knew they could punch back and might have really caused the rest of his group trouble. Now he was aware their target hadn't said or done anything especially provocative, his friends were only finding a way to amuse themselves and though he shared their dislike of the other teenagers appearance, he was doing this primarily as a favor to the other three.

 

Wren knew how to motivate himself though and decided that beating up this stranger would be a way for him to calm that anger that had brewed in him the entire day.

-"Throw him over here." He barked at the others and they were quick to follow his instructions and pushed their victim forward to collide with his fist. Wren didn't give the crossdresser time to recover before he gripped onto his clothes and forced him to stand up straight. Pulling him closer he left barely any space between them and with their faces inches apart gazed into his eyes with a glare that promised more pain.

-"Have any smart remarks now?"

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By that point the trap was well beaten into. The ribbons in his dark hair had been torn out and were laying on the floor, causing his hair to fall over his eyes. The skin that wasn't covered had dark bruises covering them. His dress had many tears and holes into it. In the beating he had lost his shoes and had ripped into his socks. And yet all the while not a single tear had crossed down his cheek. In fact it could be argued that the trap looked rather hurt with the turn of events. Did he really deserve all of this? Did he deserve the beating just for trying to get through his day and finally become comfortable with what kind of person he was? As far as his bullies were concerned, Char had all of this coming.

 

When instructed to throw the trap Wren's way the three attackers did not hesitate to follow those instructions. They marveled on how their friend caught the small boy square in the chest as he was pushed towards him. For Char that blow was the most painful. It sent the air right out of his lungs. The lack of recover time caused a single gasp to escape him as he felt a tight grip on the tattered collar of his dress. If he could speak then, he would be screaming for help. All that he could do was grip weakly to the chest of the boy that had him in their grasp at that moment."..."

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One punch was only a greeting when Wren was at work teaching someone a lesson and he had the full intent to continue as he'd started. It was satisfying to make the other teenager a punching bag, the thoughts that had been boiling in his head for hours took a back seat to ideas of what he could do to his victim next. Wren could loose himself in the violence and feed off of it as though addicted but he was also fully aware of what kind of damage he'd just inflicted and knew he could ruin the other man with another hit of that magnitude. The hate he had for the trap was not nearly potent enough to drive him to do something as severe as that and it was at this point that he decided he'd done enough for his friends. The other three were clearly not satisfied even if their victim was already badly beaten and now struggling to breathe but Wren was determined not to allow anything that would either earn himself or them serious punishment.

 

-"Didn't think that would shut you up so nicely..." He muttered more quietly than his initial bark and one could even make out a hint of disappointment in his tone. He started to walk forward with big steps and forced the other man to back up, due to how little hesitation there was in his step and the speed at which he moved at moments he could feel he was dragging the other along. Once he had him pressed against the wall he placed himself up against him again and so re-establishing the closeness from seconds before.

 

-"Listen now freak, you're going to nod if this is getting through your skull." Wren instructed, his eyes locked again on the man who was bearing the side effects of his anger.

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The three attackers cheered on their friend. They enjoyed the pained look that etched the trap's face as he was pushed against the wall once more."Come on Wren, destroy this freak." They cheered. Char couldn't even believe what he was hearing then. Even though he had been through this situation before. His mind never comprehended why any person would want to do this to him. To the trap, the way he acted was well justified.What could be wrong with letting this true feeling out for himself? What was so hard to figure out?

 

With his attacker pinning him roughly against the wall the hair that covered his eyes moved away to fully reveal his scratched up face, one of his eyes beginning to swell up from a past punch. Listening to his attacker's words the trap gave a nod before closing his working eye. He hated that the two of them were so close. The closeness then was causing his cheeks to heat up as he winced in pain.

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Seeing the damaged they'd done to the trap up close, Wren could say with confidence that his friends hadn't been holding back and the heat that formed in the beaten man's cheeks didn't go by unnoticed either. It didn't deter him however and he pressed himself seven more forcefully against the other man aiming to cause him more pain my crushing him between his own chest and the wall.

 

-"Look at me!" Wren yelled upon noticing the other trying to close his eyes. Even a whisper would have been heard loud and clear between the two of them but it was an unpleasant habit of his to raise his voice when someone's behaviour aggravated him.

-"The three of them, and me... we've never even touched you. Understood? If anyone gives a fuck about you and asks who beat the hell out of you you're going to come up with a lie. If you even as much as mention any of our names, I'm going to wait for you somewhere outside of school and I'm going to hit you like before but not once and I'm not going to give you a chance to catch your breath." Wren warned the trap in a steady voice but his naturally rough tone made the words sound as grim as they were meant to be. Despite the confidence he displayed as he threatened the other man, this time around he was only bluffing as no matter how much problems someone were to cause them he knew he wouldn't be capable of hurting another human being as critically as he'd described.

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Withe their friend finishing off the young trap the three of them came to Wren's side and stared him down. If he could even open one eye at that moment he would've. But the pain that he was feeling being pressed against the wall was not helping. Opening his functioning eye Char looked back at his attackers and stayed silent.

 

Only giving another nod to Wren's orders the trap could already feel the tears stream down his cheeks as he was pushed again."Well there goes that promise."he mentally scolded."But what could you do? It just hurts too much to hold it in."Seeing the brunette cry was the most satisfying part of the whole encounter. The three of them simply smirked as their friend dropped Char to the floor." I hope you keep your promise, pretty boy. It would be a sham if you got the shit beaten out of you again." The trap was left there crying and clutching on to his chest. It was painful trying to pull his things from the floor. He didn't know how he would explain this to his parents but he knew he had time to hide his injuries once he got home. After a moment he weakly pulled himself up and went off towards a single stall bathroom to fix himself up.

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Wren turned from the trap and walked away with his friends, conversing carelessly as thought they were only passing the halls and he hadn't just left the other man crying and in pain. Of course he wouldn't show any compassion or give any hint of regret for what he had done to the odd man but seeing the trap begin to cry unsettled him. Wren couldn't make sense of it, but the sigh caused something to tighten in his chest and the feeling still resonated within him as he made his way to their next class. It wasn't sorrow for his victim or disappointment or any form of frustration he'd felt before, the closest emotion he could find to it was fear and even that word suited the unpleasant sensation only because he couldn't find a better one. It was like something had surfaced in his mind without warning and he'd subconsciously noticed a pattern and come to a conclusion. It made sense that the sight would seem familiar, he'd been in so many fights that he'd both seen others cry and had broken into himself a few times, but those images were not the connection his brain had made. Having no convincing answer he could give himself the best he could do in the end was trying to ignore the feeling altogether.

 

Throughout the rest of day, while he sat quietly in class and either watched the blackboard hopelessly trying to get a grip of what was being explained or on a few rare occasions wrote things down, his thoughts kept drifting back to what his group had done to the trap. It was more irritating than anything that he couldn't get this event out of his mind but eventually he gave in and thought about it more carefully. The next time he walked out into the hallway his eyes searched for the man they'd assaulted even though he doubted he would have staid after they'd made such a mess of him.

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It was a saving grace that the trap carried a spare set of clothes. In mist of any fight it always seemed that his clothes would take a large hit,just like his small frail body. It was a a simple look, a baggy sweater that could cover over his hands and a skirt that was cut just a bit below his knees. He was able to slip on a pair of tights and put on his old flats. He kept his hair down to cover his blacken eye. Char was cautious about explaining his lateness to the teacher he was meant to aide for. For the rest of the day, not a soul asked about his change in clothes or covered eye. In a way they all knew what had happened without him even saying anything. It was rather disheartening to see that no one really cared. But what could he really do about it. He was a freak among these people. He wouldn't figure that he would be getting any help.

 

At the end of the fourth period of the day the young trap was sure to tread the hallways cautiously. He did not want to be tailed for the second time that day and was sure that his body could not handle another beating. Clutching his messenger bag close to his chest he kept his eyes on his feet as he walked. His movements were slow due to the pain his body was still experiencing at that point. There was a feeling that those who attacked him would still be around,waiting for him to slip up on his promise. He made sure that he would be silent for the rest of the day.

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Wren wouldn't call it luck, but just as ventured into the hallway and started searching for the trap the small man came into view, making his way to his next class, he assumed. With a moments delay he started to follow him but now with different intentions than earlier that day. He wanted to keep a distance between them even though he was under no illusions that the other wouldn't notice him. However, what made this difficult was the crossdresser's slow gate that forced Wren to stop every few minutes and think of a way not to seem out of place while he waited for the other to put more space between them.

 

It was in his interest to have the trap in his sights so he could search for details he might had missed, something significant, a potential source of that unpleasant feeling that plagued him even while he tried to continue with his day. He frowned at the new set of clothes the other had put on the same as he had with what he'd originally worn but now there was a strand of mystery that he associated with the trap and he felt motivated to watch him in hopes of uncover it.

 

It was with a ping of satisfaction that Wren realized that he had a good excuse to follow the small man since they moved along a route he would have taken even if he hadn't noticed him. It gradually became apparent that the two of them would be spending more time than expected close by each other as they were heading to the same class.

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That unsettling feeling had seemed to returned the farther he ventured down those halls. It wasn't like he was being watched anymore, not of the sort. Now that uneasy feeling gave way to the trap being followed. It might've been a paranoid thought, but what happened earlier had made him feel like he needed to keep his guard.

 

"They would try to come after me again. It hasn't stopped anyone before. Just remember that you're keeping silent for the day. You'll be better off not talking."

 

Crossing the doorway of his next class Char did not fully realize who had walked into the room after him. With a quick doubletake of the door he soon caught on to the fact that he was going to be the same class. It took all the strength that he had left in his body not to scream. Never had he thought that his chances, his luck, could be this bad. In an attempt to calm himself the trap pulled out a sketchbook and began sketching. It was one way to keep his focus off his attacker. And it helped control the backed up tears that were beginning to surge forth then. He had to pretend that he did not see him. If he did that, then he could get through the day without another injury.

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Wren didn't realize that he was being cruel simply by putting himself in the other man's presence and unaware of what kind of distress he'd already caused him, he seated himself right beside the trap. He knew none of his friends were in this class but instead in another part of the building, too far away to spontaneously decide to stop by. He was glad, aware it meant he would be given a chance to immerse himself in mathematics and not be interrupted for the duration of the class.

The crossdresser was the only teenager in the room he'd interacted with before and fortunately for the others he wasn't planning to remedy that situation. Making friends was never his strong suit and he wasn't eager to introduce himself to these strangers and try to get to know them.

 

Now with only a small gap between his own and the other man's desk, Wren leaned back into his seat and allowed his eyes to thoroughly analyze the small man. He felt there was no need to be even marginally respectful or employ proper manners when the trap is in question. His gaze moved shamelessly along the man's body and he still had little fear of being caught watching him.

 

He did after a certain point temporarily satisfy his puzzling need to focus his attention on the small male and that is when he took out his notebook and began to write into it in stead.

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Out of all the seats he could've chosen from, why did have to be right next to him? As he was pulling his sketchbook back into his bag in exchange for his notebook Char's eyes slightly caught his attacker sat himself right at the desk beside him. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he felt the eyes of the guy next to him. The trap couldn't remember when he felt so sick. Minutes ago he was beating down on him in the hallways, and here he was looking over him like he was on display. Then of course he wouldn't let himself get caught. He would keep the mask of being ignorant of his gaze. For his sake he was thankful that it did not last for long.

 

As the class went on the teacher, a skinny middle-aged woman with a bird like nose began to take roll."Charles Jones?" she called? Upon hearing his name Char raised his hand replied."Here,ma'am." Glancing over the trap the teacher gave a single nod before speaking once more." Ah, I've heard about you. You go by the name Char, correct?" The trap only gave a nod as a reply. It was all she needed to continue the rest of the role. By that point the trap had been running a slightly shaky hand through his long locks as a means to calm himself."Hm..."

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Wren easily became immersed in continuing the problem he'd been fumbling with before his friends intruded on his studying earlier that day. His attention was fully on what he was writing and he hated to lift his gaze from the notebook when the teacher called his name for a second time. He spared a fraction of a second to frown at the woman before lifting his hand and returning to his work, unwilling to pay any attention to what was being said after that. Whatever the topic of the day was he decided in advance that he wouldn't be interested in it or wouldn't be able to comprehend it. Luckily, the teacher didn't try to capture his focus or pester him so he managed to go through the entire class without being interrupted. The only time his thoughts strayed was when the incident from before would reemerge in his mind and then he would glance over at the man sitting close by him. After repeating this enough times he began to wonder what must had been going through the man's head now, shortly after they'd terrorized him. For a moment it seemed like an interesting thing to question but Wren retreated from the thought quickly, upset with himself for even venturing into such a subject.

 

As soon as the bell rang, he stuffed his notebook back into his backpack and swung it onto his back as he got up. He considered something and shifted between executing the idea and simply continuing on his way but with one glance at the teacher to confirm she wasn't watching he went ahead with it. Before the trap had a chance to stand up, he placed a hand on his desk and leaned down to whisper to him.

-"Keep up the good work." He said and neither his expression nor his tone gave any hint whether he meant to give the small man some sort of reassurance, a sign that it was unlikely they would repeat what they'd done to him or if he was only renewing his threat.

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Going through that single period felt like a life sentence of torture. In that entire time Char had never felt so tense in all his days. It took out so much out of him to keep up with the lesson. Every once in awhile his gaze would move over to catch a glance at his attacker. He could only wonder what he was thinking. It was easy to keep himself quite, but being so close to the young man that went after him was not the easiest of tasks."Why do I feel like t he could tail me aging as soon as the bell rings?Would he even want to try and beat into me again? I don't even know what to think of it anymore."

 

As soon as the bell rung for them to leave the trap shuddered slightly when his attacker placed his hands on his desktop. What could he possibly do to him now that he hadn't done to him before? His words were so confusing. So he hadn't said anything about his beating. Was he even trying to taunt him with this?Was he only trying to mock him into silence?Whatever the reason he did not want to find out. Without another word Char pulled his bag close to his chest and made his way out of the room. Apparently the trap had left a sketchbook behind in his rush.

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Wren took a step back and made way for the trap to walk past him and exit the classroom but was not in a hurry to leave himself. He followed the small man with his eyes until he moved out of view and after that considered going after him but decided against it, choosing instead to meet with the rest of the group. It left less room for trouble and was safer for him to find his friends opposed to being caught by them while following the crossdresser. He was confident the three of them couldn't possibly share the curiosity that was developing in him for the trap and he knew they would misinterpret his intentions and end up repeating the incident from earlier that day.

 

He started towards the door but paused his step upon noticing the sketchbook the odd man had accidentally left behind. Without hesitation, he picked it up and swiftly flipped through a few pages, studying each for a fraction of a second. After browsing enough of the other man's work, Wren was convinced to hold onto the sketchbook for now and placed it in his backpack before continuing on his way.

 

It was halfway to his next class that he found his buddies waiting for him, disrupting the relative calm of the hallways. It seemed he would have their company for the duration of the upcoming lesson.

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Finding their friend again the three boys looked over Wren with their usual smug grins, pushing off the masses as they attempt to get out of the way." Hey Wren, there you are. We've been looking for you. Last period was completely boring without you there. I had to actually listen to the lesson since I was so bored." Walking off towards their next class, one of them began to speak of earlier."Do you think that little punk cried himself home?"

 

"Probably. I would think that someone like him would be out of school for a week with what he did to him."

 

"He had it coming. That crossdressing freak shouldn't have been so smug with us."

 

Meanwhile on the other side of the build Char was sitting in an empty classroom that he was aiding, searching through his bag for his sketchbook so that he could draw a quick sketch. When he couldn't find it the hard fact that he left it in his last class sent a pit of dread in his core."That bully has to have it now. What do I do? I can't face him to get it back, Can this day get any worse?" Running a hand through his hair the trap laid back in his chair and closed his uncovered eye. The day was halfway over and he already felt drained.

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While his friends commented and made jokes on account of the work they'd done that morning, Wren found himself forced into silence in the same way their victim was, though the punishment would had been much less severe for him if he slipped up. He couldn't reveal to the other three that he'd seen the trap and that in fact he spent nearly an hour seated right beside him because then that one class they share would no longer be his chance to satisfy his curiosity but a scheduled time for the crossdresser to be terrorized by the others when he came in and out of the class room. The sketchbook he'd found forgotten on the small man's desk was another thing he couldn't bring up, primarily because it would be torn to pieces on the spot or ruined in another way. He was interested in take a better look at it later that day however and so made it a secret, confident that his buddies wouldn't look into his backpack because they never had any reason to take one of his notebooks or anything else he kept in there.

 

Wren soon learned how fortunate it was that he would have his friends with him in the upcoming class as the subject was English and while he did poorly at nearly everything and could understand very little because of how much he'd missed in previous years of education, in this class he was not motivated enough to even try learning something. The four of them took seats in the back of the classroom and arranged themselves so they could easily converse and occupy each other's time while the rest of the teenagers around them either tried to follow what was being said or looked blankly at the blackboard. The teacher called for their attention and warned them repeatedly to quiet down but even despite that some of Wren's foul mood that had been apparent the entire day was fixed to a degree while they were disrupting the lecture.

 

Soon however they were broken into two groups and headed off into different direction, each enthusiastic that not much was left of the school day even though they had skipped through part of the classes and misused their time while attending the rest.

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In his last period for the day Char couldn't help but to think about his missing sketch book. To his fortune it wasn't a book that he needed for classes, but it was for more personal, more intimate affairs. All the thoughts and ideas he couldn't tell another living soul, would go into that very book. The horror of thinking what that bully would do to it almost caused him to lose his lunch. It was just becoming too much. Somehow, someway, he had to get that book back. He would try just that tomorrow if he needed to, for he was too tired and too sore to think about an effective plan to even get that book back.

 

"I'm hoping if I can just explain myself, I can get that book back. But he might just beat me up again. Ngh...I don't know what to do..."

 

As soon as the last bell of the day rung the trap was determined to get out of that building, and to get out there quickly. He didn't even try to talk to anyone on his way out. The trap just wanted to end the day while he still could.

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Wren was glad that for the rest of the evening no one mentioned the crossdresser again and there was no sign of him either in the hallways or outside of school as he and his three friends were heading home. Like every day, he walked along side them and joined into their conversations but then at a certain corner he separated from them and only raised his hand for a moment as a goodbye.

 

Despite knowing him for years, none of the men had ever seen where Wren lived and since none of them had pressed him for the information it was easy to keep a secret. He wasn't ashamed of the house, though it was old and from the outside seemed to be slowly but surely wasting away, what he was really trying to avoid was revealing to his parents who he spent time with in school and what kind of things he and his buddies did. His parents knew how poorly he did in class but the rest they were oblivious to and though he wasn't sure himself how he'd managed it, he preferred it stay that way.

 

As he arrived home that day he fumbled with the partially rusted gate of the yard and upon entering the old house searched with his eyes for either of his parents planning to run off into his room and lock himself up regardless who he found. His father he avoided because the man was simply so unpleasant to be around and today he would avoid his mother as well because of how difficult it would be to lie to her and conceal what he'd done to the trap while knowing how she wished for him to be kind and accepting of others.

Seeing how no one appeared and nothing was heard, he concluded that no one was there for him to hide from and he moved freely through the building. Stepping into his room briefly, he threw his backpack on the bed and soon after that seated himself in front of the TV that he normally couldn't watch in peace.

 

It was hours later when he was forced to retreat into his room and it was becoming dark outside that he remembered the sketchbook he'd taken from the small man's desk. He pulled it out of his backpack and with nothing better to do, started to carefully study each sketch it contained.

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Char was rather glad that his parents were both working late for the night. Stepping on the porch of his home the trap quickly pulled out his key and entered the rather large home. With being alone it would give him some time to nurse what wounds he had suffered from earlier. Hefting himself up the staircase he first stopped at his room to place his bag on his bed. It wasn't long for him to head off to the bathroom. With his mother being a pediatrician there was always a spare first aid kit somewhere in the house. Looking into the mirror it was clear that he would be needing an eye patch until it decides to open again. With the rest of his wounds cleaned up and covered the trap changed into something a bit more comfortable.

 

As he did his thoughts moved back to the sketchbook that he left behind. That bully had to be looking through it by now. All of those private thoughts open to who knew. It saddened him, to think that his attackers would have more ammo to torture him. Why would anyone would want to do such a thing to him? It just puzzled him too much.

 

If anyone were to look in that sketchbook, they would have full access to the trap's personal thoughts and work. Self sketches of himself in his usual feminine style. There were notes telling of the troubles that he faced everyday. Within the pages there was not much of a joyous tone in his writing. In fact some were rather dark, telling of incidents from his past one that could be very chilling read like this:

 

"No matter how hard you try to forget,the feeling doesn't go away. Their touches crossing all over the body as your mouth closes shut from such high pitched screams. 'You've asked for this by dressing like a girl. It's only fair that you take this.' Before true violation could come to be, help arrived. But that help was too late. The damage had already been done.'

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