Don't Hate the Player

A Pinch of Salt

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'Remember, always take things with a pinch of salt. Things aren't always what they seem.'

The words of his mentor, Gobber rang through his mind as he stood outside his school, paralyzed with fear or nervousness. Either way it petrified him to the core. He knew walking through those doors would throw away the little human rights he had left. Walking through those doors with a target on his back, and a chip on his shoulder. He's deep in hostile territory with a bunch of red dots all aimed at his forehead, itching to take him out once and for all.

He knew what was coming. The abuse, the yelling, and facing 'them'. Hendrik knew it wouldn't change, it never had and it won't start now. Since middle school he feared to walk through the hallways, even to go to the bathroom. Feared that 'they' would jump him… Worst part was they were incredibly inconsistent, with the three stooges getting detention all the time. So, he never knew when they were coming until he was pushed into a janitor's closet and beat senseless.

The entire summer he hoped that they would've matured at least a little bit, he hoped they would've grown a conscience and stop the torment. But, as with everything in his life, it was going to get worse…

With popularity, the very thing that made them what 'they' were, becoming increasingly important the further they got down the line it only got him beat more often. With the severity of injuries ranging from sprained ankles to the rare broken rib, they were sadistically creative, but one thing that never varied was the whole body bruises.

Despite the lack of intelligence of most of the group, 'she' smarty told them to only hit him in places that would always be covered by clothing. Unfortunately for him this included the pelvis.

Tears pricked at his eyes at the mere thought of what 'they' would do when he walked in the building, but he wouldn't show weakness. Not showing up would only grant 'them' the satisfaction of knowing they had him beat, literally. Mustering all the will power he could gather he strode step after step, anxiousness growing that only could be broken by breaching the premises.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he stepped foot in the hall. The hustle and bustle of students new and old echoed through his ears. People rushed past him like a stampede searching for their lockers and hustling to their homeroom. He wanted to get out of the hallway and to his homeroom quick, as not to be caught in the open by 'them'. Scanning the locker numbers he quickly found his, '3'. It was one of the first lockers once you enter the doors, just to the left. The locker itself wasn't anything to stare at, just simple red locker with the name of the school's mascot on the front, 'Hairy Hooligans'. The lock was situated near the bottom with the number of said locker on a small metal placard just below it.

Hendrik bit his lip nervously as he fumbled with the lock to get the damn thing to open. Groaning soft he gave up and frustrated searched through his messenger bag for the piece of paper that he wrote the combination number on.

Finally after digging through his entire bag, and of course getting a paper cut, he remembered he stuffed it in his pocket. Quickly he pulled it out and read the number, '01, 02, 29'. Oh, right… The combination was his birthday. Of, course! Only Hendrik would forget his own birthday.

Quickly stuffing his books and valuables in his locker he glanced at his schedule to see where he going to get humiliated first.

'P1: PE'

'P2: Algebra Honors'

'P3: Study Hall '

'P4: Science Honors'

'P5: World History and Geography Honors'

'P6 Homeroom/Lunch'

'P7: English Honors'

'P8: French Language Arts'

PE. Physical Education. The place where you're educated on new places that can be sore and physically tested on how long it takes before you've lost your will to live. Unfortunately for Hendrik he has a head start on both.

A loud bell broke his trance as Hendrik quickly stuffed his bag into his locker and grabbed a mesh bag full of his gym clothes. He knew he would regret going into the locker room to change, but as this point he didn't care. It was the first day of school and he just wanted it to be over. Of course eventually one thing had to go right for him, and it did. He was late for PE but at least the locker room was empty.

Swiftly he stripped down and changed into a green pair of athletic shorts and a loose fitting, black, dry-fit T-shirt. Slipping on his tennis shoes he walked out of the locker room to the basketball court silently thanking Thor that PE was inside this time.

Hendrik walked nervously through the large double doors as the warm, almost humid air clung to his skin. He released the breath he didn't know he was holding when he saw who his PE instructor was. Gobber.

A large, but strong man that had become somewhat of a second father to Hendrik, he was nice, but firm. His unmistakable, thick Scottish accent was something he liked. They had become close when Hendrik picked up a job at his sports shop, 'The Forge'. The shop was famous for its 'Forge' area, where if you were to custom order something, you could see it made right before your very eyes. They didn't sell a large variety of sports gear, almost 99% of their store was Hockey. I guess that just comes with being so far north. It was a tough job, but Hendrik licked it. Actually talking to someone was one of the only things keeping him from doing what the little voices in his head tell him to do.

'Just do it! The pain makes you feel better doesn't it?' Hendrik subconsciously gripped his forearm remembering what was going through his mind yesterday. Fortunately for him, Gobber didn't like idle chit chat and he jumped right to the chase.

"Alight' you miserable bunch of eshman'! Let's just get tis straight new', when you're ere' you listen to me and only me. Is that understood?" Gobber was enthusiastic, but the reply on the other hand was mostly a bunch of sleepy groans and bored mumbles.

"Great! Ice' to knew' you're enthusiastic." Mumbling the last part under his breath he turned back to them and started again. "Lucky for you lot, we on't eve' time for anyting' today. But, as to keep ye educated on what's to ome', after learning how to use a printer, I printed some syllabies or hatever' there called for ye to look over."

Just as he finished the bell rang once more signaling the end of the first period. "Right! That's it for today, I'll see you ll' morrow for a real PE class. Oh, and one more thing. Today's a ort' day, meaning you lot only ave' fifteen minutes to a class. Now get long' with you lot, don't want to be late on your first day."

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The final bell rang through Hendriks ears like the heavenly singing of angels. It couldn't have come any sooner. He had been sweating bullets the entire day as he could almost feel the three stooges breathing down his neck. Lucky for him his superior intelligence got him in more sophisticated classes ensuring he wasn't with those three until last period. Unfortunately 'she' and one other member of the group had interests beside drinking and women, so they were in his classes the entire day. 'She' was competitive, but that still didn't stop her from glaring at him the entire day, looking at him as nothing more than a waste of space.

While Hendrik didn't disagree with her he really wanted to waste space somewhere else. He sprinted toward the exit with much fervor, he didn't need to look behind him to know who was after him. He was right at the door before a sharp ringing sounded throughout his head. Agonizing pain shot through his head as he hit ground hard. The deafening ringing didn't make things easier.

Hendrik didn't know what happened or where he was, all he knew was that it felt like someone tried to crack his head open with a baseball bat. All he heard was a loud slam through the ringing before...

A/N School has started and my upload schedule will be fucked up. That is all.