"Time to wake up, laddie!"
Rebel tumbled out of bed and onto the floor as his mattress was flipped sideways. He landed face-down, tangled in his sheets as the olive-skinned man responsible grinned at the pitiful state of the half-asleep teenager.
"Got to get yerself ready for school, now don't ya?" The man, named Scotch, laughed, running a hand through his grey hair which he usually kept combed back. The teenager-Rebel-propped himself up on one elbow, pushed his own black, shoulder length hair out of the way and glared at his friend, his dark violet eyes locking with the man's bottle-green ones. "One of these days, I'm gonna kill you, you Scottish prick." he growled, which only made the middle-aged biker laugh harder. Scotch left the room, still grinning to himself as Rebel got up from the floor and jumped in the shower
Rebel scowled at the thought of having to attend high school once again. He hadn't been in school since he had been kicked out of Crystal Prep near the end of his sophomore year. During that time, he had been home-schooled by his adoptive father's wife. The idea of dealing with people his own age made his stomach turn. Now, his adoptive parents were forcing him to attend the local high school because they thought that he should interact with people his own age. What a crock of shit.
Rebel got out of the shower, dried himself, and got dressed in his usual attire; which consisted of a black T-shirt, black jeans, and black combat boots. He grabbed the black leather biker cut hanging over his desk chair and threw it on. School or not, he wore his cut with him wherever he went. On the front left side, two patches were sewn into the breast. The first one read: "HellRiders" while the one right above it read: "Vice President". On the bottom left side of the cut was a large patch that read: HRMCCO. The back was adorned with the logo of the HellRiders, which was a flaming skeleton wearing a spiked leather jacket. The top rocker read: "HELLRIDERS" while the bottom rocker read: "CANTERLOT"
He grabbed his backpack and looked back at his room to see his Alaskan husky pup still sleeping at the foot of his bed, undisturbed by the earlier commotion. The pup, which Rebel had named Samuel, was well known for being able to sleep through just about any form of loud noise. Smiling, Rebel walked over to his desk and pulled a treat out of one of the drawers and set it in front of Samuel, so that his pup would have a nice surprise when he finally woke up. He left the sleeping husky and walked downstairs to the bar to be greeted by a thankfully empty room. Usually, this room was occupied by one or more drunk bikers passed out in a random spot with their arms around one or more hookers. When that happened, Rebel usually took the opportunity to wake them up. Violently.
Rebel walked outside to see that most of the crew was in the shop adjacent to the bar, working on cars. As he made his way towards his bike, he saw Nitro, a grey-skinned man with white hair tied up in a ponytail make his way towards him, his work shirt smeared with motor oil.
"Hey, Rebel!" he called out. Rebel stopped in his tracks as Nitro caught up to him. Nitro was one of the founding members of the HellRiders, and after Rebel's father died when he was six, he and his wife, Iris adopted him. Ever since then, he had treated him like the son he never had, which lead to the mutual decision between Nitro and his wife to send him to school so that he could be a normal teenager, or at least try to be one.
"What's up, Nitro?" Rebel asked his adoptive father. Nitro placed a hand on Rebel's shoulder as they walked over to the row of Harley's sitting in the parking lot.
"I just wanted to talk to you before you left for school." Nitro said. "I know that you hate it, but it's for the best. I know that you care about the club, but I don't want the HellRiders V.P. to be a high school dropout.
"I get it, Nitro." Rebel said, wanting to exit the conversation as quickly as possible, because he knew where the conversation was headed.
"It also wouldn't kill you to make some friends your age."
Too late.
"The only friend you got outside of the charter is that dog of yours." he continued.
"What about my band?" Rebel argued.
"Doesn't count. "Nitro countered. "Counting you, three out of four members of that band are Prospects."
"Oh, come on."
"Try actually socializing, get into a club, do something."
Rebel raiased his eyebrows at his adoptive father. "Even though just about everyone my age is a shithead?"
"Try, or I'm gonna have you cleaning floors with the Prospects."
"I'll give it my best." he replied halfheartedly. Rebel shrugged off Nitro's hand and mounted his motorcycle, strapping on his helmet before backing up and driving out of the parking lot, turning left towards Canterlot High. As Nitro watched him disappear down the street, he prayed that Rebel wouldn't kill anybody on his first day.
Soon enough, Rebel pulled into the parking lot of Canterlot High, finding a parking space for his bike and pulling his helmet off. He looked at the entrance to the building to see a large empty pedestal sitting on the front lawn with no statue. He shrugged this off, assuming they must've been in the middle of replacing the old one. As he walked up to the entrance, he could already feel the stares of others who were also entering the school. This happened everywhere else he went, so it wasn't very surprising that it was happening now. It wasn't gonna bother him as long as people didn't bug the hell out of him, asking him questions about the club and what it was like being a member. The last time that happened, he ended up breaking the guy's nose to get him to shut up.
The inside of the school was bustling with many students walking in various directions. You could tell by the clothes that they wore that they each belonged to a different clique. The thought of what cliques must exist inside Canterlot High made Rebel groan in exasperation already.
It didn't take long for Rebel to find the principal's office. He approached the office door emblazoned with Principal Celestia's name and knocked. It wasn't long before a feminine voice emanated from the other side of the door:
"Come in."
As Sunset Shimmer made her way to Principal Celestia's office, she couldn't help but be a little nervous. Celestia had asked her to show a new student around and help him find his way around the school. The last time this happened, the school was almost taken over by power-hungry sirens.
Hopefully, whoever I'm giving a tour of the school to is going to be normal for a change. she thought. As she approached Principal Celestia's office, she saw a boy her age exit her office. He was somewhere between skinny and medium build, and had shoulder length black hair and orange skin slightly darker than her own and wore all black apparel. When he spotted her and started walking towards her, she felt a chill run down her spine as his face seemed to be transfixed into a permanent scowl. Her eyes traveled from his clothes to a scar that ran across his throat (She wasn't exactly in a rush to learn how he got that), to his dark violet eyes. She had never seen eyes like his before. They were so deep, yet full of anger directed at God knows what?
"Hey!"
Sunset blinked and realized that she had been staring at him. Her face turned a deep shade of red as she fiddled with the edge of her jacket.
"I said you're Sunset Shimmer, right?"
"Yes!" She answered a little too quickly. She cleared her throat and spoke again, this time much more calmly. "You're the new student, I suppose?" Of course, he's the new student, you moron. she mentally facepalmed. Why was she getting so easily flustered?
"Name's Rebel" He introduced himself. holding his hand out, which she shook hesitantly. Afterwards, she showed him around Canterlot High, during which he spent the entire time silent, adding to the awkwardness that only seemed apparent to Sunset. She had tried to ask him questions about himself, such as where he was from and where did he go to school last? Any questions she asked him were either answered with a quick yes or no, or not answered at all. As she lead him back to his first period class, she noticed a tattoo on the inside of his left forearm that read:
Axle & Star Ryder
Rest In Peace
Sunset opened her mouth to ask him about the ink, but quickly closed it, realizing that wasn't something you should ask someone that you just met, especially someone with Rebel's kind of disposition.
"Well, this is the end of the tour." She said, stepping in front him. "If you have any more questions, I'm sure that the other students will be more...than...happy..." She trailed off as the smile she had offered him dropped as she noticed the patches on his vest. In particular, the ones on the left that read "HellRiders" and "Vice President". By this point, she realized that she had just been playing tour guide to a criminal. Her freezing up did not go unnoticed by Rebel, who could see very well that she had been looking at the club and officer patches on his cut. Rather than confront her outright, he decided to mess with her.
"Somethin' wrong, sweetheart?" He teased her, holding his hands behind his back and leaning in slightly, offering her a shark-like grin.
"Uh..." She tried to speak. "Sorry, but... I gotta go. Good luck with your first day!" With that, she ran off.
Rebel smirked as he watched Sunset try to get away from him. It wasn't the first time that Rebel's affiliation with the 'Riders elicited such reactions. There were points in which people reacting in such a way agitated him. They treated him as if the cut he wore was all there was to him. It didn't take long for Rebel to learn to shrug it off. If they wanted to shit on him because he was a HellRider, then fuck 'em. At least it presented opportunities to screw with people.
After he watched her disappear around the corner, he turned around and entered his first period class. At this point, most of the students were standing around and talking, so Rebel found an empty desk and sat down. The desk he had chosen was next to a pink-haired girl who was currently writing something down in a notebook adorned with pink butterflies. As Rebel pulled out his own notebook, he felt something crawl onto his boot.
"What the fuck?" He said quietly. He looked down to see a rabbit sitting on his boot, chewing on his pant leg. He reached down and grabbed the rabbit, placing it in his lap while it stared up at him for a few seconds, and then laid down to go to sleep.
How the fuck did a rabbit get in here? He thought.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" The girl next to him exclaimed. She picked up the rabbit and gently placed it in her backpack. "Sometimes Angel gets excited around people he's never met before."
"It's fine." He responded, not bothering to ask why she was keeping a small woodland creature in her bag. As the bell rang and the other students took their seats, Rebel pulled out his notebook and began writing as the teacher walked into the classroom. The teacher, a cerise-skinned woman with pale-rose hair, began writing on the chalkboard as the class went silent.
"Alright, class. Today, you will be reading "Pit and the Pendulum" and then writing a short essay on your interpretation of the main character's mental imbalance." She turned to the class. "But before we start, we have a new student today, who I'm sure would like to come up front and introduce himself.
Fuck me in the ass. Rebel mentally cursed. He set his notebook down and stood up from his seat. He walked to the front of the class. As he stood there, he looked at the twenty-some students that sat, waiting for him to say something.
He cleared his throat. "The name's Rebel." he introduced himself. "As you can probably tell by the patches, I'm V.P. of the HellRiders Canterlot charter. Besides that, anything else about me is none of your business, so don't ask. I have three rules..." he held up one finger. "One: Don't ask me questions about the club." He held up his second finger. "Two: Don't touch me, or any of my personal belongings." He held up a third finger. "Three: Don't ever, ever, ever touch my bike. EVER. Do we understand each other?" he asked, which was followed by a chorus of "Yes!" from the class.
"Good." He smirked. "I'm sure we'll all get along just fine."
Author's Note
Merry Christmas, everyone. Consider this a late present.
May the Rock be with you...
