𝙄𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙨, 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨

Mitch's Hideout [IDEA]

"You new here?" the boy asked me, his voice pretty low.

I took a second to wonder how long he had been standing there before I replied, "Yeah, why you askin'?"

"'Cause you seem like you need to be shown around," he uncrossed his arms and made three steps until he was directly in front of me. He reached out a hand which was ladened with large, black, expensive-looking rings, and I grabbed hold. He pulled me up off the floor in one swift movement.

"Come," he instructed and began to walk away from the nook where he had found me, hands stuck in his pockets, looking all mysterious.

We walked for a while, through crowded corridors where no-one paid us attention, and through hidden little hallways where our footsteps echoed until the boy got to a short wooden door. He pushed it open softly and the two of us were struck by sunlight.

He continued to walk until we were at the wall of the school, but a section towards the back of the large building where the front gate wasn't visible. He took me towards a small wire door with a latch in the side of the cement wall. He threw the latch up and pulled the door in, exiting the school and letting me do the same before closing and relatching the door.

I don't know why I continued to follow him for so long, why I thought it was a good idea to leave the school grounds, on my first morning no less, with a boy I didn't know anything about, other than the fact that he owned a black denim jacket and dark aviators. But I followed him.

In only one or two short minutes he had led me farther around the back of the school and to a bus stop. It was very well tucked away, posing the question of why it was built in the first place. It was completely vacant, without a soul in sight, and the little light in the roof didn't seem like it would work. The boy took off his jacket, revealing a black t-shirt with a skull on it, and sat down on the bench. He motioned for me to do the same.

When I seemed comfortable enough, he asked, "How are you?"

The question kind of threw me for a loop. I was expecting some weird personal questions, some dark historical facts about the school, some bullshit gossip, I was even half expecting him to make some perverted comment, but he didn't. Not to mention, his voice and tone were completely different from how he had sounded in school. When I didn't reply, he spoke again.

"Helloooo?" He asked, dragging out the 'o', "Anyone home?"

I was confused, so my high-intellect response was, "Heh?"

He smiled, "What? A guy can't ask some random girl he doesn't know how she is? Fine then, I'll go first. I'm quite fantastic."

He took off his sunglasses and his eyes shocked me too. I don't know why either, but I think it was how well their light, crystal-like qualities matched the playful attitude he had seemingly adopted even though I had thought he was some deep, brooding loner with pitch-black eyes or something.

He laughed a bit at my apparent facial reaction, folding his glasses and hanging them on his shirt.

I paused for a moment longer. Finally, a question brought itself forwards in me, "Who are you?"

"My name is Mitchel Michaels, but only my parents call me Mitchel," he said the word 'parents' like the word itself was bitter, "The people in school call me Michaels, but the people at home called me Mitch," I noticed the different tense he used when talking about 'the people at home'.

"Called?" I asked.

"It's just me at home now, everyone got older and left."

"Oh, for college or something?"

"Maybe, but I don't think anyone could afford it."

"Really? I thought that if you're going to a school like Cammerton Royal then your family has got to be loaded."

"Oh no, you misunderstand, the people from back home aren't related to me, and my parents don't know they exist," My face must have been doing a thing, because he laughed a little again and quickly said, "No, no, no, don't assume things or get confused, let me explain."

He was silent for a second as if contemplating his next words. Finally, he spoke, his smile magically reattached to his face, "So, I'm suddenly realizing that this is all more complicated than I thought, but basically, I don't really spend time under my parents' roof. I still have a room in the house, with a closet full of clothes, and Henry still messages me to ask me if I will be home for dinner every night, but I  live pretty much full-time in my own place, where some others used to live with me, but they all just left after some time. I still go back to my parents' place to check in on Henry and the other butlers, or if I need something I know I can get from there, but I typically avoid the place otherwise."

I should have had so many questions, and I'm sure I did, but the first and only one to successfully make it out of my mouth was, "You have multiple butlers?"

Mitch laughed some more, raking his blonde hair back out of his face before speaking again.

12/03/2021