Caged (Tronnor au)

Chapter 7

TROYE

A week flew by and before I knew it, it was already Friday, our last classes. Few students who decided to attempt the extracurricular lecture of creative writing sat next to each other. Our professor was trying to show us the power of enjambment, sat on his desk.

-The whole trick is to use it wisely. The audience should have enough time to think of one mental picture, and then, bam! - He clapped his hands together and took the whole class by surprise. Few people jumped on their seats. I think one might've woken up. - You create a completely different image in their heads. You propose a new idea. This one word in the next poetic line could change the understanding of the whole poem.

He looked at the watch on his wrist and pretty much everyone did the same. Half past four, meaning the lecture should've ended fifteen minutes ago. No one seemed annoyed, though. It felt nice not to sing my lungs off once in a while. After one week, I found out where my diaphragm was and felt its painful presence with every breath. I didn't think one could get sore muscles from singing, but boy was I wrong.

-Right, that'll be it for today. Everyone enjoy your weekend. - With that, our professor turned the projector off and started to gather the papers from his desk. I stood up and put my stuff into the bag. After a moment, though, I took the notebook out and walked up to the man. My lips were trembling just a little bit.

-Professor Green?- The man turned back to look at me.

-Yes, Mr...

-Mellet.- I shot him a weak smile, my fingers clenched on the notebook.- I'm sorry to bother you, but...

-Never be sorry for bothering people, Mr Mellet. - He looked me dead in the eye.- If they don't want to hear what you have to say, that's their loss.

-Right. - I had no idea what I was supposed to do now, so I kept my smile on while he carried on packing. - I was wondering if you'd like to take a look at... I have written a song, you see... It's actually inspired by one of your books, so... Your opinion would mean a lot to me.

-As much as I'd love to, I can't do this today.- I felt my face turning red. My gaze run to my feet. Of course he wouldn't do that, Troye, what were you hoping for.- I'm sorry, Mr Mellet, I really am. Maybe some other time.

I mumbled a quiet "I understand" and "Goodbye, sir". What else was I supposed to do? I contemplated leaving a notebook for him to read later. Wouldn't it be annoying, though? I had nothing left to do but to take my bag and walk out of the classroom and into the main hall.

It seemed like the crowd from the other day were just freshmen who couldn't find the right rooms and decided to stick together in the middle of the university building to wait for other people to lead the way. This time, though, I could only see a couple chatting next to one of surrealistic sculptures. Besides them, no one was there. The hall seemed even bigger now I could see it in its whole glory. I almost wanted to stay there and look at some art, but going back to the warm apartment sounded worlds better.

I marched through the puddles back to 17 Russel Square. If the sun came around throughout this whole week, I must've slept through it. It reminded me of an Australian winter, but lasting the whole year. How would London be when snow was falling from the cloudy sky? Would it be all white and squishy, or would it melt into half-ice puddles? Perhaps winter London was just a giant pool? I wasn't so keen on finding out.

I went through the door to the building and felt the wave of heat on me. Yes. Oh yes. I contemplated taking stairs for half a second before my sore muscles reminded me I had no stamina whatsoever. Going all the way up to the ninth floor would end up in a great disaster. I'm just gonna wait for the elevator to come like a nice, lazy boy.