There were certain perks to being the most popular guy at school.

Of course, there were endless parties that he could attend uninvited. In fact, an invitation wasn't even need for him. He was, quite literally, the life of the party. And let's not forget the beautiful ladies who would practically melt to the floor if he so much as glanced at them. People looked up to him, this he knew, and he was always willing to put others above himself. People wanted to be like him. Wanted to learn, walk, look,talk like him. His peers idolized him and held him on a pedestal. He was what they aimed to be. And never being the one to shy away from the center of attention, he welcomed them with open arms.

But besides all the positives that came with being popular, their were also negatives.

There were indubitable stereotypes that came with the word, popular. In movies, the popular kids were always labeled as rich, stuck-up, arrogant, and too dim-witted for their own good. They were always the villains of the plot, aiming to make some poor, less-than-attractive, soul suffer to fill their own twisted desires to be in control; to "rule the school".

Lance hated that stereotype.

His loathing for it was most likely the reason he became so well-liked, because despite his own charming and extravertated nature, he got along with everyone. It didn't matter how smart, dumb, strong, weak, beautiful, or ugly a person was; Lance made sure everyone felt welcomed and loved. No one could deny that just his mere presence in the classroom brought warmth and serenity to everyone around him. It was why he was named one of the chosen valedictorian at Garrison Academy before he was even a senior; everyone loved him.

After kissing his abuelita goodbye, Lance scurried off to catch the public bus. The walk to Garrison Academy was but a few miles away, and normally he would've just walked, but considering he was running a little late, the bus seemed like the better option. He barely made it to the bus stop however. He was sure if he weren't so close to the driver, he would've pulled off in a heartbeat for arriving late. He didn't even have to pay his fee! What a kind man that driver was.

He expressed his gratitude the whole way to the school, letting the whole bus know how generous the driver was. The driver bashfully waved him off, but his red cheeks and small smile told Lance he appreciated every word. He arrived at the school in the nick of time, a few minutes until the bell would ring.

Quickly exiting the bus, Lance was immediantly greeted with fistbumps and waves. He smiled kindly at his peers, but did not waste a second more of time than he absolutely needed to. He had someone to meet, after all.

Pushing through the doors, he was met with even more smiling a swooning faces. A group of jocks cheered upon seeing him and patted his back as he walked passed. A hoard of girls screamed his name, practically begging him to look at them, and when he winked in their direction, they all screamed. Even the quiet and small students brightened upon seeing him, and he grinned widely, ruffing their hair as he passed. Finally, he saw who he was looking for.

A dangerous smile crossed his lips as he realized that their back was turned towards him, and they had no idea he was about to pounce. Lance silently made his way towards them, and at the last possible second, he yelled and jumped onto the person's back. A second shriek followed, and Lance could only laugh as realization dawned on his friend and he allowed himself to calm.

"Gotcha!" Lance cried, placing a big watery kiss on his temple. He then stumbled off his friend, watching in amusement as he began to wipe the wet spot with a disgusted look on his face. Still, Lance could tell he wasn't the slightest bit angry.

"Lance, you can't do that! You know I get nauseous when I'm scared." He whined.

"Gee, for a big guy, you sure are queasy." Lance joked.

Hunk was easily his best friend in the whole world. They grew up together, and he knew that he could always count on Hunk to be there when he needed him. Although huge in stature, Hunk was anything but scary, as many upon first impression seemed to believe. In fact, he was nothing but a huge, teddy bear; a teddy bear who gave the best hugs in the world. He loved baking and he strived to be an engineer in the upcoming future. Lance would give anything to ensure Hunk's happiness, and he knew Hunk would do the same for him.

"Yeah well, at least I don't deny it." He said, reaching for his still churning stomach.

"Where's Pidge?" Lance asked, looking around the now emptying hallway. Hunk shrugged, rolling his shoulders.

"Dunno, man. I think she said something about finishing her robot." He stated before whimsically adding in a sing-songy voice, "I heard it's gonna be pretty sweet, and she said it will help me with my baking."

That reminded him of the first time Lance discovered that she was, in fact, a she. It was freshman year during gym when they first met Pidge. Her small, stick-like stature, short hair, and thick-rimmed glasses had made him automatically assume her as a boy. Above that, most of the girls during this time had chosen to sit out during their game of basketball, too afraid to mess up their hair or something. But not Pidge. She played alongside the boys, and was actually pretty good. Her being short and agile allowed her to slip pass the bigger and slower people, and gave them extra points when they needed.

It was because of her, his team won that game, and to celebrate Lance lifted her up upon his shoulders to carry her to the locker rooms. She seemed happy at first, and cheered along side the rest of the team, but upon realizing where they were going she began to panic and demanded to be put down.

"Are you crazy?" She seethed. The whole room seemed to go deathly silent then. "I can't go in there."

"Uh...why not?" Lance asked, clearly confused.

"Because I'm a girl, you idiot!"

He remembered everyday apologizing to her profusely, even after she already forgiven him. Although the memory with still cringy on his part, he was glad it happened. Pidge became another very close friend to him, a little sister even. She was incredibly smart for her age, a mini genius, and also independent and confident. He loved that about her.

A shrill ringing brought him out of his fond memory, and he gasped upon realizing that was the late bell. Hunk shook his head, knowing Lance hated getting detention for something as meaningless as a tardy.

"Do you think we could hang out after school today? I already invited Pidge and we're making Beignets." There was hope in the big guy's voice, but as he was talking Lance was already backpedaling away. He made a face like he was considering the offer, but shook his head in the end.

"Sorry, buddy. I have practice tonight. You know how coach gets when I miss practice." Lance said with a small, apologetic smile. Hunk frowned.

"You always have practice, and you've never missed a single one." Hunk deadpanned as he watched Lance continue to walk backwards.

"Hey, you don't get the name sharpshooter for nothing." And with that his grin widened even more and he whirled around. Hunk barely had time to warn him before he was crashing into a wall; or what he thought was a wall. No, a wall would not make an 'oof' sound before contact, and surely books wouldn't be crashing and skidding across the floor. He ran into a person.

Obviously he hadn't taken the blunt of the collision, he was still on his feet. But the person who he had bumped into was on the ground, and upon regaining his focus, began hastily picking up his text books. Shaking out of his stupor, Lance crouched down and began to pick up the books that fell beside him.

"Sorry," He apologized. "I didn't see you there. Lemme help." Lance said this with a smile and with a slight laugh to his voice, because honestly, this type of thing he'd only seen in those cliche high school romance movies. The one where the two protagonists lock eyes and they automatically fell in love. However, when he looked up, he had the inkling that this was definitely not like those cliche high school romance movies.

For starters, the boy in front of him was pale. Well, pale maybe wasn't the word, he had color to him, but it was definitely not the shade Lance guessed it would normally be. Secondly, the kid was sporting a mullet. A mullet. As in, business in the front, party in the back, mullet. It was a dark raven color and hung loosely in front of his face; which led Lance to look at his eyes.

His eyes shocked him more than the mullet, he daresay. He squinted to see if his own eyes were playing tricks on him, but there was no denying it. They were, indeed, purple. A dark purple, almost black if not looked at in the correct light. But he could see it, and he would've complimented on the rarity of them if it weren't for the fact that the holder was glaring daggers at him.

"I don't need your help." He growled, snatching what books Lance had collected right out of his hands. Lance blinked for a few seconds, shocked by the rashness he had just endured. He was only trying to help. As they both stood up, the boy gave him one final death glare, baring his teeth. "Next time watch where you're going." And then the boy pushed passed him and down the hallway, disappearing within the sea of students.

"The nerve of that guy!" Lance shrieked, crossing his arms. He felt a hand drop of his shoulder, a rather big hand, that gave him a squeeze. He knew it was hunk, his presence was unmistakable. "I was only trying to help." He pouted.

"Ignore him. Some people just don't deserve help." Hunk reasoned. However, this did not soothe Lance as he had hoped.

"Everyone deserves help, Hunk. Some people just don't realize it." Lance snapped. Hunk nodded, understanding that it was a touchy subject and maybe his choice of words were not the best at the moment. Lance sighed, resting his head for a moment on his friends broad shoulder before perking up.

"I got to get to class." Lance sighed, lifting his head up.

"Ok," Hunk said, giving his should another squeeze. "But seriously, ignore him. Don't let him ruin your day." Lance nodded and, after bidding farewell, scurried to class; but not before reassuring a group of girls who witnessed the incident that he was all right and there was no need to 'end him' if something like that ever happened again.

Geesh, he thought. Girls are wicked

Luckily, he had a sub first period, so no repercussions were given for being late except for a slight scolding. He had managed to butter the lady up enough, though, and she had forgiven him instantly. The rest of the day went by like any other day; he helped out his peers, got pats on the backs by the guys, and swooned on by the girls. Best of all, he didn't have another encounter with mullet-head.

It was nearing the end of the day, which meant he was heading to his favorite class. Mr. Coran was like none of the teacher's he ever had. He was witty, and comical, and oh-so smart. He gave extra points to anyone who called him 'Coran the gorgeous man'. Above lecturing, he gave advice to all the students and Lance had a close enough bond to visit him after hours and tell him his bottled up feelings. Mr. Coran always listened with attentive ears and never once looked at him with pity or anger.. He was truly amazing.

Plus, his accent never ceased to put a smile on his face.

As Lance walked into the classroom, he could see his teacher stroking his orange mustache; a habit of his because he always liked to appear well groomed. Upon seeing him walk into the classroom, the man cast him a smile. Lance wave before proceeding to take his seat, the one by the windows in the front of the classroom. Although he loved his teacher, he tends to draw on about certain topics and it could get quite boring. Lance prefered to gaze out the window whenever this happened.

The final bell, and Mr. Coran clasps his hands together, drawing the attention of the students who were loss in their own conversations.

"Righty-o, I assume the bell still works. Heaven knows that I would think my students would know what that means." The room was chorused with apologies, and Mr. Coran smiles cheekily, batting his hands. "I'm just joking with the lot of you. But I do have an announcement to make."

At this, the whole classroom perked up. Lance raised an eyebrow,, growing curious himself.

"We will be conducting a project that will count as twenty percent of your final grade." At this, everyone groaned, and Mr. Coran batted his hands to calm everyone down. "Now, now, its not all that bad. I've already paired everyone up, and I think that everyone will find their partners quite pleasant, if I do say so myself." He finished proudly, twirling his mustache in his hand.

He then took out a list, a began reading off the pairs one by one. Each time, Lance heard a whoop or cheer or a hand clap as he assumed the partners were happy they were chosen together. Lance sat with anticipation for his name to be called. Maybe he'd get the cute girl who sat by the door, Linda was her name, he thought. Or maybe broady, who was always cracking jokes. Finally, his time had come.

"Lance, my boy." Mr. Coran chirped. Lance sat up, he could feel his anxiety rising as each seconded ticked by. He hoped he had got a decent partner. Not one who would slack off, but one who would like to have fun. That would be nice. "You will be paired with Keith."

Lance blinked. Keith? Who was keith? He had never heard of the name, nonetheless in this classroom. So, he raised his hand, a confused expression on his face. His teacher raised a fuzzy, orange eyebrow in his direction as acknowledgement.

"Coran, you truly are a gorgeous man," Lance started, and he mentally patted his back for using the phrase. He knew that would be bonus points. "But I think you have your classes mixed up. We don't have a Keith here."

At this, the class erupted in a fit a giggles and hushed whispers. Lance wondered what he said wrong. He hadn't meant it to sound rude or demean his teacher by what he said; there simply was not a person by that name. But as his peers snickered in his direction, and then looked away in another, he had a feeling that wasn't at all true.

Finally, Mr. Coran had quieted his students down enough to give Lance a sideways glance. He then cleared his throat, turning to the opposite side of the classroom.

"Keith, my boy, would you mind raising your hand so that Lance could know who you are?" Mr. Coran asked. Lance felt his heart drop into his stomach as he realized his mistake. He honestly did not know a person of that name belonged to the class, but everyone else seemed to know. Oh god, whoever this person was, he hoped they did not hate him after this.

He slowly turned around towards the direction everyone else seemed to be facing. He scanned the entire classroom until he finally saw him, and he gulped. With his hand slightly raised above his head, Keith glared at him with his dark purple eyes. There was an obvious scowl on his face and a slight tinge to his cheeks. The mullet was unmistakable.

He was the same kid he ran into earlier that day. And oh boy, he did not looked any more pleased than what lance was feeling at this moment. Lance attempted a small wave and an apologetic smile, but all he got in return was Keith's eyes slanting even more.

Yikes.

Lance slowly turned back around as Mr. Coran finished giving off the rest of the names. However, Lance could still feel the cold stare boring into the back of his head. Honestly, he had no clue how he's never noticed him before. He knew everybody! Everybody liked him! But not keith, he already seemed to hate Lance's guts.

Was he a new student? Mr. Coran would've announced this if he was, so that was not an option. Had Lance really treated this person as a ghost? Everyone else in the class seemed to know he existed. Today had been the first time he'd seen him, hear his name even. How was it possible to be in the same class together for a whole quarter and still not even heard or seen the kid.

Lance was starting to think he was a ghost. Or maybe a demon, because those eyes were truly scary.

He was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of turning desks and jumped in surprise as there was a loud thud on his own desk. He looked up to see Keith with the same glare on his face, looking down on him.

"Uh, sorry?" He offered, though that just caused Keith's scowl to grow larger.

"Let's get one thing straight," Keith said lowly. "I want nothing to do with you, and if you were wise, you'd want the same for me. I know pretty boys like you don't have the time for actual work, so you can leave it all up to me. We can go over the presentation the day before, but other than that, we don't need to see each other."

Lance's mouth slacked open, if just for a second, but he quickly closed it and sat up in his seat, challenging Keith. There was that label again, pretty boys can't work. He didn't deny the fact that he was, indeed, pretty. His mocha skin was smooth to the touch and seemed to glow, pampering yourself does wonders. He kept his chestnut hair nice and pristine, always smelling of the sweet spices he associated with hime. He was tall and lanky, but not the least bit bony. And his bright blue eyes seemed to illuminate his whole body. Yes, he was pretty, but a slacker was not in his vocabulary.

"No way, this is a group project. And I'm not a slacker. We can either split this fifty fifty, or work together. I'd think it'd be easier to choose the latter."Lance countered. Keith seemed taken aback by this, his eyes widened slightly. But then he scoffed.

"Whatever." Keith muttered, casting his eyes away for a second to look out the window. "But I don't want you at my house." Keith stated.

"Then we're definitely not going to my house, since hospitality is obviously out the window." Lance barked back, partially to defend himself and partially in disbelief by how quick he was to judge him. He had hardly said anything to the guy, and he didn't want him at his house, for what? Fear he would know where he live?

"Fine." Keith retorted. Lance ran a hand through his hair in frustration before he realized everyone around him was packing up. He looked at the clock, and saw that the bell would ring in no less than two minutes.

"Look," Lance sighed. "I have practice after school but let's exchange numbers so we can figure out what we're doing. You're not doing this alone." Lance said the last part sternly, looking into Keith's purple eyes. For a second, he thought he saw Keith's expression soften, but that only lasted for a second.

Lance pulled out his phone, and keith did the same. They exchanged numbers and as soon as the bell rang, Keith grabbed his things and scurried out the classroom. Lance was the last person to make his way to the door, but stopped, and turned to meet his teacher with a glare.

"Sorry, lad," He said, raising his hands defensively. "It was the best fit option."

"I'm not mad." Lance said, shoulders slouching. This was going to be a long two weeks, and he already had so much on his plate. "But, him?"

"Keith," Coran said, sighing. He walked over to Lance, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Keith doesn't seem to get along with anyone, and well, you get along with everyone. I thought pairing you too together would benefit keith. He needs an extra push."

"He needs to learn so manners." Lance mumbled.

"Come now, weren't you the one to say that everyone deserved help. Well, I think Keith needs it now more than ever. Give him time, you may find that you have more in common than you may think." Lance thought about this for a moment, before giving a feeble shrug.

"You always know best, I suppose." Lance stated.

"That's the spirit!" Mr. Coran cried, clasping his hands together. "Now run along to practice. We don't want that coach of yours to get worried." Lance shivered at the thought. He quickly bade the man farewell and rushed to the lockerroom to change.

Unbeknownst to either of them, someone had stayed behind to listen to their conversation. His shoulders slumped as he realized his teacher had paired him up with party-boy Lance out of pity. He'd show them. He didn't need anyone. He could do things himself.

He then adjusted the books in his hands and quickly stomped away and out of Garrison Academy.

This is my first Voltron Fic so I hoped you enjoyed. So Keith is a little bit of a jerk, but we knew that already. And don't worry, there is more to this story than meets the eye. You'll just have to keep reading to find out what.

Oh, and if you can guess what sport Lance plays, I'd be super impress. Feel free to comment, follow, or share this story. Any feedback helps! Thanks for stopping by to read 3