*Both in the reasoning of Apollo's well being
A halo of darkness,
A yin and yang unbalanced,
Collapsed structures.
The leaning tower of Pisa
Turns into a falling tower of Pisa,
But the world moves on.
Because that's what it does.
Marcus
Icarus fell without ever turning into Icarus.
It wasn't a beautiful and bittersweet fall from heaven that so many people love to view, but a gruesome thud on the ground with bruises on the back of his head. The wizard chess scene from Harry Potter came to mind, a strike and a deadly end that could result in chaotic bleeding on the floor. A final string plucked, one last fermata played out, just a crash of the cymbals and the silence before the applause. That silence felt so long, it seemed like the applause might never come. I got that, kind of.
It's crazy how Apollo was the one falling, even though he was the one who did everything right. He was always studying. Always working hard. He was nice and respectful to everyone, always paying attention in class. He took super neat notes, always prepared with a dozen different colors of highlighters to color code the piece of paper he was working on into perfection. If the system was failing someone who did everything so right, how did my mistake making ass even stand a chance?
That's the thing though; I didn't stand a chance. Zero tolerance didn't mean zero tolerance for illegal shit. It meant zero tolerance for trying to help a kid in an actual meaningful way. It meant zero tolerance for actually keeping staff members in check when they kicked their feet up behind the desk and decided they would take a shitty paycheck for it. It meant zero tolerance for changing how the school works in ways that would actually help students. Essentially, it meant zero tolerance for anything that was written in the policy. They wouldn't follow it unless you were already fucked by the world in forty different ways for being "different" that wasn't really different at all.
I tried to think of everything that was running through Apollo's hair as he slept, his pillowcase still wet from the tears. His roommate was sleeping, snoring so loudly that I wondered how Apollo even slept around him. I was currently kneeling next to his bed, just staring and slightly playing with his hair every few minutes. I tried to fall asleep a few hours ago, but Apollo started tossing and turning and woke me up. I couldn't really go to sleep after that, so I just let myself stay up.
Apollo's roommate had a bunch of candles everywhere, which surprised me because the college would never allow a fire hazard like that, so he must have been sneaking it in. But I wouldn't be surprised if he just walked in with them considering how negligent the people were here. I resisted the urge to ask him if he was in a cult or something, or if the candles were just for a religious aspect. Whatever it was, most of them smelled really fucking awful.
I stared off into the distance before I felt a little tap on my back, turning around to see Apollo running his eyes, stretching in the slightest way before giving me a wave. I mouthed a little "did I wake you up?" and he moved his eyebrows in response, probably not understanding what I had said.
"You're still here?" Apollo asked after a moment, grabbing onto my hand that was resting beside his pillow. "You don't have to, you know."
"I want to."
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YOU ARE READING
Asterisk*
RomanceAn aestheticized version of the bittersweet tale of life. Two boys. One who doesn't know how to live, and another who doesn't know how to love. And together, well, maybe they'll learn some things. Maybe they won't. [boyxboy]