Kiana was a masterpiece. From the moment she opened her eyes to the world, she could see things that people swore weren't there. She saw unusual beauty and and fell in love with every unlovable thing. Growing in beauty and love, she took every experience with her and walked through each day as if it were a gift. Kiana would have been a masterpiece except for one very obvious thing.

Kiana was plain. Everyone around her knew it, from her giving arms and guiding feet hidden underneath mounds of unwashed clothes to her beautiful mind shrouded by hair that would never lay flat. She had skills she wasted her time on but was never able to master. Always stuck in the middle of the pack, Kiana would hide her visions of a beautiful life in handmade notebooks. She would sing to pass the time and doodle wherever there was space. And if she was asked for a story, she could describe a web of complex characters and plots because nothing ever happened in her own life. Trapped in a day to day survival of the ordinary, the plainness had seeped into her skin and left her another faceless stranger like an extra in a movie.

But sometimes, when the dull ordinary of life became too heavy on her gentle heart, she would open her notebook, take out a colorful pen, and begin to describe the beauty she saw. Kiana would tuck herself as far from reality as she could. Whether in the highest branches of a tree or the last desk in the classroom, she would invent her own worlds.

And it was one of these days when the teacher's lecture was especially long and Kiana was lost in a fairytale that the boy appeared.

Kiana stared up at the boy, knowing he didn't belong in the class. In fact, she couldn't even recall how he had made his way into the building, or how the teacher never commented on his presence. Tucked in the back corner, Kiana saw every dull face that drifted in and out. Each student was an expressionless slate, devoid of emotion and exactly the same as the ones that followed it.

So that was why the boy caught her eye. Despite a fatigued presence that made him about as realistic as a dream, his eyes held more energy and motivation than the entire student body combined.

Kiana tucked herself behind her notebook, hastily describing all of his unusual beauty to the pages. She imagined his striking blue hair rolling into ocean waves and the bandaid on his cheek pulled back to reveal an embarrassing birthmark. But of course, she knew the bandaid only held a cut since a bright red scar poked from beneath, stitched up with what looked like embroidery thread.

Just like Kiana, he seemed lost in a world of his own. His pencil dragged across the paper while bright eyes silently studied his work. Instinctively, she leaned over and strained to see what he was writing. Her own worlds were as fascinating as her curiosity for new ones, but most people never had the bravery to share their worlds. Instead, they wrote them down, drew them, and filled their art with stories and stars.

Just as her eyes began to glaze over the blue-haired boy's notes, a bell rang and she sprang to her feet. Gathering up her books, she knew her small universe would have to wait until Criminal Justice began, which only made her want to get there faster. With one more glance back at the boy stained in mystery, she turned out the door and let her mind whir with thoughts of his beauty.

Kiana hated how dull school halls were. Students mindlessly drifted from room to room like zombies, brainless and trapped in a reality they didn't choose. They talked endlessly when they weren't hidden behind their phones and acted oblivious to everything around them. Sometimes Kiana wondered what would happen if a herd of clowns ran into the school. Would the students even notice or would they bend to the culture around them, forever a massless substance without personality.

Feeling her brain whir, she stopped at the edge of the classroom and reached for her notebook, only finding her textbook instead. As panic welled up in her, she brushed her hand against covers and worn folders, but the notebook nowhere in sight.

Kiana's heart thudded in her chest, feeling empty without her thoughts. She was nothing without them, nothing but another zombie-like student and another faceless monster...

"Hey!" Her voice shot through the hallway as she spotted the blue-haired boy carrying a notebook. But not just any notebook; a handmade notebook covered in little flowers and beads, and worlds stirring on the inside.

Frantically, Kiana's feet pounded through the crowded hallway. "Get back here you little...thief!" She shouted as the boy continued, completely oblivious to her. She pushed past a zombie-girl holding her zombie boyfriend's hand. "Stop!"

He turned towards the cafeteria, towards a herd of hungry zombie students drowning their emptiness in food. If he went there...Kiana rushed forward, knowing she wouldn't be able to catch him if he fell into the crowd. With one last push, she drove her feet towards the mess of blue hair.

"I told you to sto..." Her words fell short as her fingers brushed against his shoulder. An icy chill ribboned through her. He was as cold as ice -freezing actually- and something about the figure under the sweatshirt just felt...

...wrong.

The boy turned around, his bright eyes the only thing keeping him from falling into the same, lifeless colour of everyone around him. Gentle blue and filled with fear, they trapped Kiana in a world of their own with something not quite painful, but not quite joyous either. She felt herself begin to fall in love with the idea of him and the stories hidden behind those gorgeous blue eyes.

"You...uh, you took my notebook," Kiana mumbled in a daze, not sure if the weightlessness came from the boy or her own fear. Her eyes drifted mindlessly over to the notebook and back to the boy's startling eyes. He was just so...alive...

"I'm not ready for this." The trembling words flowed from his lips, waking Kiana's mind to reality. He was stepping backward, drifting away as Kiana began to wake up.

And just as soon as her eyes opened to see him, he was gone with the crowd.