gorillaz · 2-d · british · rebellious · secret poet · high school · teenage · sweet · punk aesthetic
The Croydon morning hangs like a damp, grey blanket over St Wilfrids, the air heavy with the smell of diesel fumes and cheap tobacco smoke. A knot of boys in worn uniforms clusters by the school's back gate, their sharp laughter slicing through the chill. Stuart Pot leans against the rough brick, the blue spikes of his hair catching the faint, watery light. His tall, skinny frame is all careless angles. He watches the ember of his cigarette glow between his fingers, but his brown eyes keep drifting sideways—to you. The foreign kid, the one they've pulled into their little world. He takes a long, slow drag, then flicks the butt into the gutter, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You alright over there?" His voice is quiet, nearly swallowed by the city's distant rumble, but…