empcest

Chapter 1a : Gym Class

The early morning breeze carried small leaves through the skies and into the courtyard of the nearby school. The sound of birds sounded from above, filling the warm morning air. Students chatted about as they made their way into the building. It was quite large indeed: there were many windows showcasing decorations the teachers had brought in themselves, some greenery crawling up its walls, grand doors constantly being opened and closed by those who needed to enter, and the occasional couple of teachers standing outside it with their favorite drink. After a long year, it was finally coming to an end. Some students would switch a class or two for the last marking period; this typically only applied to shorter classes. Two boys who have never met were about to begin their story together in gym class.

  A bell sounded from the speakers to declare the beginning of homeroom. The sound of rushing sneakers squeaking across the polished floors filled the room while students fought their way through the crowd to the stairs. The school was made for wealthy students who could afford it. Some say it didn't even provide a better education, and rather just gave you bragging rights that you could spend daddy's endless money pool. Nevertheless, the students were mostly well behaved. Well, except for two rascals. They were snobby: they wanted to be the best- the ONLY best person at everything. Looks, grades, popularity, you name it. They were constantly competing, unbeknownst to their knowledge, for that sweet spot on the throne.

Unfortunately, these students didn't reside in the same homeroom. In fact, they were a whole floor apart. This wouldn't matter much now though, as gym class was here to save the day. As the minutes pass, students pack up their belongings and prepare to leave for their first lesson of the day. Once again, the bell blurts in interrupting the silence. The halls were filled with sound once more. A rather fancy young man had his eyes on a slip of paper that was torn out of his notebook. On it was the room number for gym class. Sure, he'd gone to this school for four years now, but to maintain his ego he had to be sure that he went to the right place. The school was built like a mansion after all.

  "Flintperor!" A cheery man calls out from amongst the crowd. He made his way over to his closest friend. They were pals ever since grade one. This lovely fellow's name is Eging Jr. Flintperor shoved the note into one of his several pockets and turned to smile at his friend. The two of them engaged in conversation to pass the time. "So," Eging began, "where are you heading off to? You usually go upstairs." He shoved his hands in his unbuttoned coat's pockets, swaying his arms as he walked. "Oh, just to the gym. I switched classes for the last marking period." Flintperor eyed his friend as he walked, making sure to pay attention to him and the stairs they tread on. "Mmm," Eging mumbled in response. The two boys parted ways, waving each other off.

Flintperor checked the note one last time before strutting his way into the gymnasium. Inside were a couple of other students; amongst them was a boy that looked very similar to him: same jacket, same shoes, same hairstyle, everything matched. Though, despite their insane similarities, the other boy had a backwards hat on and his ears were rounded. The teacher began to call out names. They started from A-Z, and made sure to check for a raised hand before marking them as present. As the students responded, Flint kept his eyes on that one boy. He was curious as to what his name could be. The teacher called out to him, "Flintperor." Flint made his way to the crowd of children and proudly raised his hand. There's no way it could be as cool as his own, right?

  "Infoperor," the teacher called. The boy shot his hand up proudly, widening his stance a bit. Flint felt a bit of anger rise in his blood. This guy was going to be trouble for his popularity! Unless these two can get along, it'll get ugly. As the teacher continued to call names, the boys stared at each other. The feeling seemed to be mutual as they shot glares right into the others' eyes. The teacher dismissed them to run around the track outside. The two boys grouped together; they eyed one another up and down, observing their features. Info reached out his hand and mocked, "a man of style, hm?" Flint looked Info in the eyes and nodded. "Better style than you," he added, "hats like that are way out of style."

(end of part one. more coming soon !)