Chapter One - Beautiful

September 1, 1989.

Dear Journal:

It's the first day of my senior year. ...Here we go.

The halls of Riverview High were swarming with students and teachers, each rushing from place to place, most hoping to remain unseen. Dipper's eyes scanned the plane before him. He watched as a football player, Wes Hodson, pushed Paxton Segal into a wall. He recognized both fairly well; he'd known them since kindergarten. He knew most of these people since his youth, he knew most by name. He watched Paxton hit the ground, his right side still skidding the wall as Wes' friends laughed and cheered. The pain in Paxton's face struck a nerve in Dipper that reminded him of the second grade, all those years back. Paxton hit the pavement during recess running, he cried in the nurse for as long as his body would let him. The memory moved Dipper enough to give cause to help the boy up, though that wasn't hard seeing his inherent sympathy for others.

After the savage pack animals called football players left the injured student, Dipper rushed to his rescue. Putting a hand out for him, he waited. Paxton reached out for his glasses, which fell off on impact, then put them back on. Once he was able to see, all he did was glare. Instead of taking Dipper's hand, he got up himself, and pushed him away as he walked down the hall.

"Get away from me, freak." He hissed as their shoulders collided on his leave. Dipper muttered a cynical apology and brushed himself off. The innocent youth that Dipper remembered in Paxton, and the rest of the school for that matter, had washed away with age and sick rage. Time did a number on the purity of life.

What happened to the kindness we had before now? I look around at these kids that I've known all my life, and I ask myself... What happened?

He listened in on the vulgar insults flying, he almost felt the tremors as they ricocheted off the cinderblock confines of the school. It was only the first day but he knew what he was in for, what everyone would hear henceforth for the next 180 days: "Freak, slut, burnout, poser, lard-ass." And after that: Freak, slut, loser, shortbus, bull-dyke, stuck-up, hunchback. And thus on until the end of their time together. It was only lunch and here he was, praying for a better way to live, yearning for the old days of baking cookies and playing tag.

He entered the cafeteria and watched on at the amalgamation of students. Most tables were clogged with cliques of students acting on the kill-or-be-killed instinct instilled here. He remembered reading an article once on wild animals and their interactions. Species of pack animals lived alongside each other but go at each other for even looking at their pack for long enough to be looked back at. Any solitary animals tried their hardest to keep from notice and survive. It was all a matter of surviving in a cruel food chain, because only few can be at the top.

He just blocked it out. He refused to knowingly partake in the competition of this ecosystem. He knew he was probably playing a part just like everyone else, but if he could ignore that, then for God's sake he would. Instead of worrying where to sit, he just went to the line for food. He got a tray for himself, and almost gagged at the fact that it was sticky with some old food, even though it was the first day of school. It probably hadn't been washed. Ever. Initially he planned on putting his journal on it so to not have to hold it in his hands but now he decided against it. He didn't want to dirty the old thing anymore than it already was. There was no real reason for Dipper to be carrying a journal (or, as his sister called it, a diary...), else than the sentimentality that came from it. It was the journal of his great uncle, and it had a few pages used by him from when he was an anthropologist. He gave the journal to Dipper to allow him to "document anything he considered worth documenting." Whatever that means.

And then he felt the tray fall rapidly from his hands. It hit the floor before he processed what had happened. Someone smacked the tray from his hand, and as he looked up, he saw one of the linebackers, Peter Savege, with a few other football players laughing behind him.

"Oops..." He shouted, sarcastic and smug. Dipper recalled him to be someone his sister had a crush on in kindergarten. He's glad that infatuation had since ended. Peter was a linebacker since sophomore year, and was a huge dick well before that. But despite Peter's phallic personality, the whole school adored him - or, well, feared him. Either way, everyone just let him do as he does, unfortunately.

God, how he wished for it to be graduation day. He hoped for an acceptance letter would come soon, from Harvard or some other Ivy League he applied to. He wanted his damn diploma already so he could wake from this coma that is high school. He just wanted to blow this school and everyone in it.

Well... not everyone. Mabel, his twin sister, clad in a pink cat sweater and beaming rushed up behind him. Anyone could tell just by looking at her that she was the only pure being in the building, the only one who retained the innocence of youth after all these years. That fact which he cherished so was also the reason for the endless bullying she endures everyday.

"Hey!" She still had braces. She was in the twelfth grade. Maybe that was another reason why he saw his twin as the face of youth. Unknown to Dipper was that she saw him as the face of maturity. Ironically, Mabel was the older twin. "Still on for movie night?"

"Yeah... But I'm still not sure why we couldn't do this earlier. You waited until the first day of school for us to have movie night? Not all of summer?" While he spoke, she picked up his tray for him.

"We had movie night over summer too!" She shoved the sticky plastic tray into his hands. She was smiling wide and proud, for God knows what reason. "Plus I rented Princess Bride!" That was the reason.

"Again?" He lost count of how many times that's the movie she chose for them to watch. Since it's release two years ago she'd been obsessing over it. She dragged him to the theater to see it three times in one month in the October of '87.

"Again!" She squealed and jumped in the air, latching onto his shoulder so to sway him along with her. "Plus, we need to watch it this month! It's the two-year anniversary of it on the twenty-fifth!"

He tried brushing her hands off to steady himself, but she was significantly stronger than he, especially when excited. "I think you like happy endings too much."

"Well, I think you like them too little." She finally stopped jumping. He had nothing to say to that, but to stick his tongue at her, almost forgetting he soon to graduate. She mirrored the gesture back. He opened his mouth to start another conversation, but was quickly shut down by the sudden slamming on a palm on a tray, followed by said tray colliding with the floor. Mabel's mood dropped as fast as her tray. Wes Hodson laughed proudly as he chanted "Brace-face!" along with the gang of jocks behind him.

Wes Hodson, quarterback, smartest guy on the football team.

Now, it was one thing to screw with Dipper, he didn't mind much, but God help anyone who touched his sister. (Though not even God could help if anyone touched him and Mabel was near.)

Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

"Hey! You pick that tray up, right now!" Dipper shouted. He couldn't see it, but Mabel cringed. She knew her brother wasn't tough enough to live up to any sort of claims or threats he might throw without getting massively hurt.

Wes stopped, and so did every other jock in earshot. "I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?" Dipper hesitated, realizing what he had said out loud. And that's where Peter found it necessary to chime in.

"My buddy asked you a question, dweeb." He leaned on Wes' shoulder, Wes was almost a full head shorter than him. Dipper tried to muster the courage to defend his sister.

"Yes, I am. I want to know what makes you think you have the right to pick on my sister." Wes chuckled, a smug grin on his face. "You're nothing but a high school has-been waiting to happen, so what about you makes you any better than her?"

He stayed silent for a minute, the smirk plastered to his face drained of any realism. Peter looked at Wes, confused and expectant. "Well you've got a stupid birthmark." Peter pointed to Dipper's forehead and pushed him backwards. And the whole team cheered.

I can almost feel my brain cells attempting suicide.

The flock walked away, laughing and cheering, leaving a gap in the line for food that Mabel and Dipper quickly filled.

Dear journal, once again;

I stand here, finding myself asking just one more question:

Why?

In Dipper's heart, high above the hope for the world's healing, was the honest belief that everyone else here was asking themselves the same thing. Why? 'Why do they hate me? Why don't I fight back? Why do I act the way I do?' Dipper believed that everyone else around him lived in perpetual confusion and doubt. He suspected that even those at the top of the food chain questioned themselves and their motives. 'Why did I hit him? Why do I cry myself to sleep?' Dipper's hope in a child in everyone also held with it that child's loneliness and dependence, the want to be loved and the need for assistance. Everyone, while asking themselves why, is asking for help. 'Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some help here!' And above all; 'Give me something to live for!'

And then they entered. The only three people capable of being exempt from Dipper's theory. Pacifica, Atlántida, and Indiana. The whole room seemed to stop and stare, which is all they wanted. It was like the gates of Heaven had opened up and gifted angels for the hoi polloi to stare at. Atlántida Southeast smiled honestly, and showcased a fraction of humanity, which was significantly more than the other two mortal goddesses. She was a dark-skinned, baby-faced beauty dressed head to toe in the same outfit as the other two girls, but all in yellow. Her dad was loaded, got all his money from selling engagement rings, which explained why it looked as if Atlántida was already married with the ring on her finger. Indiana Southwest stood beside her in all green, and wearing heels almost taller than her head in inches attempting to cover up the fact that she was 4'11. Her parents were Chinese immigrants and there were rumors she was descended from actual royalty. She didn't seem to have much personality whatsoever besides what rumors say.

Both of the girls walked at least a step behind the crown jewel of their group, Pacifica Northwest. Holy hell, she was a mythic bitch. But anyone who could deny the fact that she was gorgeous was a raging liar. She was wearing the same outfit as the other girls but in all red, and somehow it looked more provocative on her than the other two. She somehow managed to turn a school-uniform-esk dress shirt and plaid skirt sexual just by putting it on. Everyone stared at her and the other two as they strutted across the room like it was a catwalk. All eyes were on them until they sat down at their table. Dipper was less than impressed. No one dared treat any of them the way they treat the rest of the students. They were the exception to Dipper's belief in everyone's collective self-hating doubt.

He groaned and finally got up buy his food. "It's ridiculous how much attention they get." He said to Mabel, but she was distracted, still staring at the three girls. Her eyes seemed trained on Pacifica with an admiration Dipper recognized all too well from his sister. He just rolled his eyes and sighed.

He had to actually pull her along with him to get her to move her eyes off of Northwest. They made it to a table, finally, and Dipper began writing down all the things he thought of writing in his journal with the same blue pen he'd been using since he got the thing.

If the Oceanics were nicer, that would be beautiful. If they used their popularity to spread kindness, the school would improve for the better.

And on a much more selfish note, I could use their popularity to improve upon the treatment I get, if I'm so given the chance to.

As lunch ended and the cafeteria cleared out, Dipper finished writing that final sentence. The room was empty, save for him, once he began to leave. By the time he was halfway to his classroom the late bell rang. He didn't really mind, it was he first day of school and he could just claim to not have known where his class was. He walked the empty halls until he turned a corner and say the living deities in the flesh standing by a locker. Indiana was busy vomiting on the floor while Pacifica made comments on how she needed to stop being a 'damn attention whore.'

"Maybe you should go see a doctor..." Atlántida said softly. Indiana nodded between gags.

"Oh shut up. She's fine." Pacifica reprimanded while touching up her own makeup in the mirror inside her locker.

A teacher's heels clicked on the floor on the other end of the hall and soon after, a guidance counselor arrived. Dipper pulled out a slip of lined paper from his bag and began writing, using the wall as a leaning surface. . "Girls. I'm sure you couldn't hear the bell over the vomiting, but you're late. Unless you have a hall pass, I'm going to have to give you all a detention." Before Pacifica could open her mouth to speak a snarky response, Dipper walked out from the corner.

"Actually, Ms. Eppling, we have a hall pass. Here, uh, we're out on yearbook committee." He handed her a perfect forgery of his history teacher from the year prior who he knew to run the yearbook committee. Dipper always had a knack for forging handwritings, a talent that came in handy more often than one would expect. Ms. Eppling studied the page, moving her glasses lower down the bridge of her nose for clarity.

"Huh... I see you're all listed. Hurry up then and get where you're going." She handed the pass back to Dipper then continued on her way down the hall. Pacifica ripped the slip from his hand once she was gone.

"This is an impressive forgery. Who are you?" She stuffed the pass in her locker and shut it, turning to face him.

"Dipper Pines... and I expect some payment for that." The other girls remained silent.

"What payment?" Pacifica sounded almost disgusted at the expectation.

"Let me sit at your table at lunch just once. You don't even need to talk to me. I just want people to think you guys tolerate me so they can leave me and my sister alone." There was silence for a minute before all three started laughing. Dipper's heart skipped a beat in a panicked disappointment. "Before you ask, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes."

"Prescriptions?" Indiana asked, standing and wiping her chin of vomit. He nodded as Pacifica began to tell her to shut up. "Let's keep him..." Indiana whispered to Atlántida.

Pacifica paced to the other side of Dipper, analyzing his looks. She held his head by the chin as he turned him side to side, looking at him from every angle. "For a greasy nobody, you don't look half bad... You have good bone structure."

"Uh... thanks?"

"And a symmetrical face!" Atlántida shrieked as she took Dipper's face from Pacifica, squeezing his cheeks a little tighter. "If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your face, I'd have matching halves. That's very important." He backed his face out of her grasp and she simply smiled.

Indiana scoffed, "You could stand to lose a few pounds." Dipper was a twig. There was literally no pounds to lose, thanks to a fast metabolism.

"Shut up, Indiana! Not everyone has to puke out their guts to stay pretty!" Pacifica snapped. "You know Dipper, you coming along with us could be beautiful. But first, we need to make you beautiful."

"Now that's not necessary, I just wanted one day at your table for the sake of being left alone." He tried explaining his point, but she was already examining his clothing.

"You'd look really good in more blue. Tomorrow, I'll bring you clothes and you'll change out of whatever you're wearing and into that, alright? After that, you're in with us." She spin on her heels and began to walk away, Indiana spinning and joining her as she passed. Atlántida stayed behind for a minute, looking excited. She remarked how she's glad to have him along. Pacifica grunted to catch her attention and the yellow-clad girl ran to join them.

...This could be beautiful.

The second day of school started with the same hateful treatment. People were walking, and running, and being pushed, and pushing others, they were all ripping at each other verbally. Normally Dipper would be asking how he could survive this all, but today was different.

Upon entering the school that morning, Pacifica and the other two were there to shove a blue, male version of the dress-top-plaid-bottoms outfit they all wore and he changed in the bathroom. He came back out, dressed in the new clothes and Pacifica pushed him right back in, insisting that he needs to do more. Soon she ended up with both of the other girls also in the boys bathroom with him, fixing his hair and applying makeup to blemishes. He basically had to swat them like flies to keep them from using cosmetics to hide his birthmark on his forehead.

When the halls were filled to their prime, Pacifica led the way, as she parted students like the Red Sea. Silence fell as people realized that there wasn't just three girls this time, but three girls and a guy. All Dipper heard was someone go "Who's that with them?" before the hall filled with murmurs recounting the names of the girls and trying to figure out his name. He heard a couple girls make comments on how attractive he was. That was new. That had never happened before.

Mabel was stopped at the end of the hall trying to witness the spectacle that caused such congestion in the corridors. It took her a minute to see over the crowd. "Dipper?!" She shouted, shocked, when finally seeing why everyone stopped. The whole hallway began to whisper louder amongst each other, he heard his name said multiple times as he passed, and for the first time, not in an insulting way.

Life can be beautiful. I hoped for any chance of a positive year here and I got my pay. It's nice being on top of the food chain. No... it's more than just nice

. My God, it's beautiful.