❝ SEMI-CHARMED LIFE. ❞ s. geto.
TRACK ONE . . . "you're not the only one i know"
𝄞 ". . . and i'm too proud to talk to you anyway, and i'm far too proud to talk to you any day!" - the sundays.
synopsis . . . after being a character in the background of your friendship with shoko and satoru, suguru finally decides to get to know you in the beginning of your senior year. what happens when he skates his way into your life through your ap photography class?
contents . . . 18+ content, minors dni. fem! reader. non-canon compliant. high school au. skaterboy! suguru. 2006. underage smoking/drinking/drug use.
a/n . . . my first series! wanted to start off with one of my favs and something that has been hidden in my drafts for a while. this is short bc i just want to see if people like it and lmk what yall think! wc: 1.4
★ series masterlist
𝄞 playlist
tag list: open! comment to be added!
The irritating buzzing and ringing of your alarm wakes you up, your hand almost immediately shooting out to smack the snooze button. You force yourself to sit up, rubbing your tired eyes with your hands and groaning. These few weeks back at school after a long, relaxing summer were insufferable.
Your room is a collage of you. Fairy lights, perfume samples and band posters taped to the wall, various cameras stored on your shelves, polaroids curling at the edges. The photo booth strip from last April of you and Satoru making dumb faces. A hazy shot of Shoko half asleep in your bed last month. The glow from your old desk lamp highlights last night’s study session, notebooks and textbooks messily scattered across the wooden surface of your desk.
You get dressed slowly, in pieces. Low-rise jeans with a frayed hem and a thin oatmeal-colored sweater that falls just off your shoulder. Your digital camera goes in your tote, the one you took pictures with this past week. Lip gloss, roll-on vanilla perfume, gum, backup batteries. The mascara wand combs through your lashes as you apply a light coat. You brush your teeth and put your earrings on in the bathroom mirror.
You see Shoko pulling in your driveway as you grab your headphones and check your hair in the mirror one last time before going downstairs and slipping your shoes on. It’s humid and gloomy, the warm thickness of the air was almost completely irritating.
Shoko’s Civic smells like cinnamon and that old perfume she’s been using since sophomore year. She’s got a cigarette between her fingers and an old mug in the cup holder. You slide into the passenger seat, your jeans riding down just enough to feel the cool leather of the seat.
“Hey.” You say, buckling your seat belt as she greets you. You fall into easy conversation.
“You hear who’s in our class now?” she says as she reverses, one hand on the wheel, the other bringing her cigarette to her lips.
“Mm, no?” you say, swiping your gloss along your lips.
“Suguru. Geto. He’s switching into photography.”
You try to play it cool. “Oh. Really?”
She gives you a side-eye. “Don’t act like you don’t know who that is. You’ve been in love with that strange, silent skater aura since, like, you moved here.”
“I’ve literally never spoken to him,” you say, a little too fast. “He’s just… always around.”
“He’s friends with Satoru and I. You’re friends with Satoru and I. That’s, like, a friendship circle. You’re overdue.”
The truth was, yeah. You did know who he was. You’d known who he was since the beginning of sophomore year when you transferred here. But he was always a figure in the background, standing off to the side when you spoke with Satoru and Shoko. You felt your personalities were too different for the two of you to get along anyway. You tuck your hair behind your ear and look out the window. “He doesn’t even know my name.” You laugh at Sho’s persistence.
She grins like she knows something you don’t. “Bet he does.”
By the time you pull into the school lot, the sun is higher, and the air feels less suffocating. The September weather was unpredictable, and this was one of those days where it still felt like summer. Leaves caught in the breeze, someone in the distance with a skateboard slamming it against the pavement, distant conversations blurring into a sea of voices. Shoko parks half-crooked as always, and you both climb out. She takes one last puff of her cigarette before stomping it out on the cracked asphalt. And then you see him. The man of the hour.
A dark baggy sweater and jeans just loose enough to look effortless. Hair half-tied up, board tucked under one arm, earbuds in. He’s talking to Satoru and some other brown-haired teen near the curb, nodding along slowly like he’s only half there. Satoru spots you and Sho and shoots you a small wave and a smile.
Suguru glances back. You smile and wave at Satoru, not missing the way the black-haired teen’s gaze seems to be burning a hole in your soul.
Shoko bumps your shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you mutter. You adjust your bag over your shoulder.
Room 114 is warmer than outside. Safe. Familiar. You plug your camera into the computer, taking off the lens cap and pretending you don’t notice when Suguru walks in five minutes later, taking the desk diagonally behind you. You shove your headphones into your ears, blissfully ignoring his presence.
But when you open your files, you notice something.
There’s a photo you don’t remember taking. Blurry, probably an accidental click from when you slung your camera on at lunch yesterday.
He’s in it. Just his back, mid-stride, skateboard tucked under one arm, walking along the fence line. You glance over your shoulder. He’s scrolling through his own shots, one hand resting on his chin.
You turn back to your screen, eyes squinting as you huff.
You don’t delete the photo.
You edit the lighting just a little.
And for some strange reason, you save it to your photo album.
What should’ve been a discarded piece of media, left to rot, became a part of your portfolio. Maybe it was the perfect lighting, or the blur of the lens making you feel almost nostalgic. As if the picture wasn’t accidentally taken literally yesterday. Maybe it was the subject. As you click through the rest of the photos from this past week, you decide on a few to keep and add to your final portfolio.
A picture of you in the library, the lens on the other side of the bookshelf, the shot positioned just between two books. A picture of a bird perched on a branch at the lake at sunset from Sunday evening. And the picture of him. It feels as if your hand is acting on its own when it clicks the mouse and dumps the photo of him into its own album, and the others in your portfolio album. A sigh escapes your lips and you feel a hand tap your shoulder. You pull a headphone out of your ear and turn back to see the subject of your thoughts.
“Hey. I think you might’ve dropped this.” Suguru spoke, a black lens cap in his hand. You blink and glance back at your camera, noticing that yes, your lens cap is indeed missing. A soft smile graces your features as you take the cap from his hands.
“Thanks. I probably never would’ve noticed.” You laugh softly, watching as his eyes travel to your computer screen. The picture of the bird at the lake is open on the screen.
“That’s a great shot.” He says coolly, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look. “You take that?” He glances back at you, and you make eye contact. You smile again.
“Mhm. I just needed some stuff to add to my portfolio.” You say, calmly, watching as he grabs a chair and positions it next to you. You had always thought he was the more reserved type. Guess not?
“Mind if I look at some more?” He asks, his question catching you off guard. You furrow your brows before nodding and opening your portfolio file.
“Sure. Knock yourself out.” You lean back in your chair and watch as he scrolls through the pictures, silently thanking yourself for saving his image to a separate file. “I’ve kind of hit a mental block recently, so don’t judge me too hard.” You say, laughing softly. He stops at a particular photo, one of a cloudy day at the lake down near your house. The fog loomed over the water and through the tall, green trees like a blanket.
“These are cool.” He glances back over at you. “You know, I can always help you if you need. Though, I might be asking you for help soon if you keep getting shots like these.” He laughs smoothly, earning a soft smile from you.
“Thank you.” You say casually, the conversation flowing easily.
“I’m Suguru. You’re Y/N, right?” So he did know your name.
“Yeah. It’s nice to actually meet you.” You lean your head against your hand on your desk, looking over at him.
“You too. I’ve seen you around with Satoru and Shoko.”
“I guess it’s about time we actually spoke to each other, huh?” You laugh softly.
“I guess so.” He replies smoothly.
⤷ last track ⟶ next track
© all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to lurelics. please refrain from copying, stealing, or profiting from my works. none of my works are to be used or adapted in any manner without my permission.
