Icy Inferno (Troyler AU)

⋙ Chapter Nineteen

In a manner of speaking semantics won't do
In this life that we live we only make do
And the way that we feel might have to be
Sacrificed

In A Manner Of Speaking ~ Nouvelle Vague

Tyler

After meeting Troye's family, I strolled into school with whistle most mornings. Dan told me to cut it out at first. A day later he was whistling along with me. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure why he was so happy, but I knew why I was. For the longest length of time I was under no pressure. I could enjoy the simple things in life, live in the moment, experience things I’d previously thought impossible. Everything was perfect - too perfect.

Sitting in the familiar music room, I waited for a familiar face to come through the doors. Zoe was absent for some unknown reason, and Troye was taking years to reply.to my texts

To Troyeboyy:- Oi, Trey Sivaaanya, where you at? xxxx

To Troyeboyy:-  I’m looking incredible right now and you’re not here to see it - hurry up twink xxxx

To Troyeboyy:- Some kid is giving me weird looks - send help asap xxx

To Troyeboyy:- People are having an inappropriate discussion behind me and I can’t ignore it please don’t leave me like this xx

To Troyeboyy:- I have never felt so lonely as I do now xx

To Troyeboyy:-  Please tell me you’re still alive x

From Troyeboyy:- calm yo self tyler destruction i’m stuck in traffic :L hopefully i’ll be in soon ♥

To Troyeboyy:- You better be - we're meant to record the song today xxxx

To Troyeboyy:- Don’t rush though - I don’t want a dead boyfriend thank you very much xxxx

Knowing he wouldn’t reply for a while, I put my phone away, and started tapping my foot nervously. I wasn’t looking forward to making a recording of Don’t Wait. We’d had ages to rectify the composition, but most lessons we’d spent procrastinating rather than practising. At the end of the previous lesson, Mr Howard asked us how we were getting on, and we both said it was going brilliantly. That’s why he presumed we could perform it.

Five minutes after the bell rang, the lesson finally began. "Seeing as half the class are determined not to turn up, we'll get started now. Now, before you decide to doss around, you should know this lesson is going to be moderated by another member of staff, so all of you better work your arses off. I will not hesitate to put you in after school detention if you don’t."

Mr Howard let us go after that. I went over the stringed instruments, expecting to see the violin lying in its usual spot. Instead I was faced with cellos, violas and a broken cymbal. I double-checked the shelves, but it genuinely wasn’t there.

"Um, Mr Howard?” I behaved cautiously, sensing his negative mood. He looked up at me, obviously anxiously. “Do you know where the violin is?"

He shrugged, shoulders deflating like a balloon. "It's somewhere in here… You’ll have to look round for it yourself. I’ve got too much planning to do."

Begrudgingly I went on an unexpected journey searching for the instrument. I searched the cupboard, tripping over various drums and triangles in the process. The search was in vain, as the only thing I found was a spider hiding under a glockenspiel. I looked around the keyboards, seeing if someone had left it on the side, but it wasn't there either.

Of course, it had to be in the last place I looked, in the most difficult position. It was on top of a forgotten shelving unit, besides the recording room. Even though the shelves were empty, someone had decided to put the violin on the uppermost ledge. It would've been fine for most people, but I was too short to reach it.