Dreams are meant to be fulfilled, aren't they? [Koltc AU - ON HIATUS]

Chapter 1

2 years before the main arc.

KEEFE

Keefe was terribly bored.

He was so done with the stupid essay in front of him. Write 3 essays in 3 hours, my ass. Sometimes he really did hate Australian exams - Especially in highschool. They weren't that bad in his first four years, but the moment he got to year 11? No. Not only did he have to finish 3 essays in that period of time, he was also forced to analyse some stupid artwork. Okay, it wasn't that stupid... and it was very, very annoying.

Keefe glanced around the gym, where the exam was currently taking place. Somewhere in this was the teacher who thought this was a good idea.

He glanced back down at his papers, twisting the pen between his fingers. He was stuck - on the last essay. Jeez - trying to write the third paragraph because of some stupid film analysis. Ugh. Marella had the right idea for picking english languages instead of sticking with this english. Seriously, though. Who thought putting a bunch of teenagers in one room for three hours with no breaks was a good idea.

Keefe rolled his eyes. He could care less about this exam, to be perfectly honest. The rest of his stupid essays were fine and probably would get full marks, so if this one was graded down slightly it wouldn't really matter (okay, it would probably affect his chance at getting into a university but he was planning to study abroad instead of sticking around. Sure, he loved Australia, but there were better chances for art-related jobs and schools in other countries).

Keefe hastily wrote down his last point on the paper and finished off his conclusion. Ugh. He looked up at the screen projector with the timer on it. 3 minutes left. Keefe sorted his essay's together in the right order, leaning his head on the desk once he was done. He stared at his hand and the black outlines of what could best be described as wisps of mist.

When he had first started getting the marks, people told him off, saying to scrub it off, but after a while of finding out he couldn't, his parents and friends had realised it had come from his soulmate. Everyso often new marks would appear, sometimes temporary. The only ones not temporary was the marking down his left arm and shoulder (and his right shoulder too) of the black outlines of the wisps of mist.

Keefe was going to be perfectly honest. He did not know why this soulmate of his was getting tattoos at (hopefully) 14, but perhaps it was a cultural thing. In fact a few days ago he had been horrified to find the (unfortunate) tattoo of rhombus shapes around his midriff.

Although no one saw his stomach, so who really cares.

Someone poked his shoulder and he flinched. The teacher, Dr. Brown glared at him through his weird round-flat glasses.

"Finished already, Mr. Sencen?" Keefe blinked.

"Oh.. Yeah."

"I'll take that then." Dr. Brown snatched the papers off his desk.

Keefe just stared after him, scowling. Dr. Brown was one of Keefe's least favourite teachers, as not only did he do random rituals in his classes, he also was extremely judge-y. Seriously. And he had an extremely high nasal voice. It was quite painful to hear actually.

Keefe watched the seconds tick down on the timer and quite honestly, felt like eating popcorn as the rest of the students in the gym furiously tried to finish the horrific amount of essays.

12... 11... 10...

Marella, who was sitting next to him was in the middle of what looked like writing a sentence, sighing with relief as she slammed her pencil down to form a full stop.

8... 7... 6... 5...

She looked up and after checking no one was watching her, flipped him off for watching her like as she would say: like a creep.

3... 2... 1...

The alarm for the timer blared and practically everyone jumped back in their seats and covered their ears. Keefe just snorted. He may or may not have forgotten to turn down the volume the day before while playing music for a 'dance party' pre-exams to make everyone feel better.

Marella, who was covering her ears just reach across grabbed his ear and whispered somewhat threateningly:

"Do that again and I'll set your house on fire."

Keefe just smirked and yelled over the alarm:

"Pardon?!"

Marella smacked him lightly with the back of her hand and turned back to her papers, once again organising them, with a hand covering an ear.

Keefe tapped on his desk while watching the teachers flail around, trying to turn it off.

The bell for the end of the day rang, and he just shrugged, practically skipping out of the hall, the alarm still blaring in the background.

Keefe was out of the school within 3 minutes of the school day ending, practically shoving everything into his bag and running out. Afterall, he couldn't miss the bus. That would be pretty bad. Kittiye would certainly not be happy with me. For goodness sake, who let a bus come every hour when it was important to get home on time?

Oh right. Kittiye. A few years back, Keefe had rung up the CPS for Australia - after his mother had an episode - once he was old enough to know about it. To be perfectly honest, he had been in the middle of a mental breakdown and wasn't actually aware he had called them until they had come to their house and taken Keefe from his parents.

He didn't care that much at the time. Well, he did, but in the way that was panicking because he was confused, not wanting to leave his gaslighting and manipulating parents (mostly father doing the manipulating, though). After a little bit of realising what was happening and reading random brochures in the facility they had put him for a little to make sure he was all healthy and not suffering from mental health issues from whatever happened, he had decided not to go back.

Sure, they were his parents, and he did care about them, but that didn't excuse what they had done. Eventually they put him in a foster home, with a pretty nice lady called Kittiye while they waited for his diagnosis. After he had been told that he had minor OCD, ADHD and possible PTSD, Kittiye had immediately asked if it was possible to adopt him.

Which brought them to where they are now. Now when Kittiye had a wife, Sereya, who was equally as nice and they were a generally pretty happy family. Keefe was pretty sure the last time he saw his biological parents was about 5 months ago, when he ran into them in his favourite shopping centre - highpoint - and was eating a go bucket with popcorn chicken from KFC.

His mother had tried to talk to him, but his father dragged her away before Keefe could respond.

The bus doors opened in front of him and he stepped into the surprisingly uncrowded vehicle. He swiped his myki card (basically using it to pay for public transport) and sat down next to a window. The bus began to move again and Keefe swiped his hands against the window, glaring at the dust that was now covering his fingers. He hastily pulled out some sanitizer and cleaned his hands.

Keefe loved art, for certain. But he hated the feeling of anything remotely dirty covering his hands, which is one of the reasons he disliked the stupid tattoos covering his hands, shoulders and midriff. Stupid soulmate.

He closed his eyes, feeling as if they were drying out the more they were open.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

1289 words!

Lowkey kinda surprised that I wrote that much abhisncn