Academy (DISCONTINUED)

Intro

It was five AM, and the small town of Brandywine had just begun to wake up. Parents were calling their children to get out of bed, followed by various complaints and lamps being turned on.
However, one lamp had never been turned out. The lamp that stood in the bedroom of Simon Brokenbell. The sound of a keyboard was constant, thin, nimble fingers tapping the keys rather quickly. Simon himself was the one using the keyboard, tired honey brown eyes fixed on the screen as he typed. A young boy of thirteen, he wasn't handsome in the traditional sense, though he was undeniably cute. With wavy, messy blond hair and fawn-like eyes, a lot of people mistook him for being a few years younger than he actually was.
The brown-eyed blond was softly humming along to the music pouring in through his headphones. The playlist mainly consisted of sappy love songs, with an occasional Twenty One Pilots or Panic! At The Disco song popping up among the mix. Simon had always found that this specific playlist helped him write his stories, especially romantic ones, such as the one he was writing right now.

Dan's morbid thoughts, the ones he thought would be his last, were interrupted by Phil's warm voice. "Dan!" He cried out, reaching for the younger. "Please don't jump...I-I lo-"

"Simon?"

Simon was shaken out of his trance, looking up at his doorway. A bleary-eyed woman stood there, wearing a long blue bathrobe. Her brown hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and draped over her shoulder.
"Oh, hey mom." Simon's voice was one that wouldn't be noticed in a crowd. Quiet, almost monotone.

"Were you up all night again?" Simon's mother asked. Simon shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm not quite finished with this story. I need another hundred or so words in order to finish it."
The woman sighed. "You need to take better care of yourself. I know this school must mean a lot to you, but you need sleep. You can't deprive yourself like this."
Simon bit his lip. "This school is my last chance. If I don't get accepted, I'll have to stay where I am now."

Ms. Brokenbell smiled wearily. "I'm proud of you. You're so brave, even though this must all be really stressful. Don't worry, Simon. I think you can do it. Just don't have to make me be a strict mom. Fair enough?"

This comment managed to get Simon to crack a small smile. "Alright."

"Okay. Come on kid, it's the last day of school. You can survive one more day."

Simon nodded and sighed, standing up from his desk chair and waiting for his mother to leave the room before heading into the bathroom. Closing the door, he undressed and stepped into the shower. As the hot water poured over his thin, pale body, Simon's mind began to wander back to the school once again.

The R.J. Academy of Inspired Arts was an extremely exclusive boarding school for students across the world from ages thirteen to eighteen. About a thousand thirteen year olds were offered the chance to earn a five-year scholarship, however only fifty actually managed to get their hands on it every year. When Simon and his mother had received an email offering him the chance to go to a new school, his heart had skipped a beat. For a few moments, he was genuinely happy. A chance to get away from his current school was something he would welcome with open arms, small as the chance was. The requirements were simple; The student would submit their best story or drawing, or something among those lines. Simon was admittedly a horrible artist, though he was rather proud of his writing skill, so he'd been staying up late most nights working on an old file he'd begun but never finished.

As the petite thirteen year old stepped out of the shower, he dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist before heading back into his room, where he'd laid out his clothing for school. Changing into a green hoodie and jeans, he tried to get dressed quickly in order to make up for the rather long shower he'd taken. He took long showers a lot of the time, but this time he'd been in there for nearly an hour. His gaze inevitably shifted back to the laptop on his desk. He had to admit, it was certainly tempting. The promise of finally finishing the story he had been working on for a month, reviewing and re-reviewing it again and again, making sure it was perfect. He had to get into this school.
Eventually this temptation became too much for Simon and he gave in, going over to his desk and re-opening the file. The typing continued only an hour after it had ceased.