A/N - Hello, sorry for not updating recently. But on the other hand I got a tattoo of a treble cleft on my ankle.
I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Have a lovely day, I hope everything works out in your life and remember that someone loves you.
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Sunset orange – The feeling of hope and/or excitement. Synonyms: Hope, Eager, Excited.
Phil's P.O.V
Walking to school is, at the same time, both liberating and depressing. I love to walk, the feeling of the sun on my back and the wind around the curves of my body. Listening to music and just completely zoning out, maybe making up fantasy stories in my head. But considering I'm on my way to school that kind of numbs the liberated feeling. It's not that I hate school, I kind of like it actually. I get to meet heaps of people and see my friends. But the learning part is a little difficult. And the teachers always tell you "you're here to learn."
If I'm there to do something I have the inability to do, then what's the point?
Not a good train of thought but it's the only one I've got as I approach the doors to one of the main buildings. I always arrive just before the bell, living close to the school and not really having a point in arriving any earlier. I don't even know where my friends hang out before school to be honest.
I make my way to the beginning of the corridor, waiting there for the bell because I know that if I make my way to the classroom early I will be swapped by teachers lacking compassion and their morning coffee.
After what feels like half an hour staring at the blank wall in front of me and thinking of the small piece of paper I slipped into my pocket before I left the bell rings and I am the first to scurry down the long hallway to home room. Most of the time I am there before my teacher but I can get inside by going through the adjoining classroom. Mr. Mitchel isn't surprised to find me already in one of the back seats as he chirpily walks into the classroom with an arm full of books and a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Good Morning Philip" he cheers across the classroom as he makes his way to his already cluttered desk.
"Good morning sir but I've told you, please don't call me Philip." The last part comes out kind of quieter than the first but he seems to hear me.
"Oh I'm only joking with you" he whole-heartedly laughs before greeting the newcomers into the classroom.
After a while of listening to people jeer about their weeks and random crap I hear someone call over the heads of about 30 students.
"Sir, what are we doing in P.E today?"
Oh god. P.E. Not my best subject and that's saying something. I'm not totally unfit or anti-social just clumsy and awkward and that's kind of the opposite of everybody else in the class.
But still, I try.
Mr. Mitchel starts listing off a few possibilities and everybody in here who also accompanies me in Phys. Ed begins to yell out their choices. Mr Mitchel is the only year 12 P.E teacher and everyone kind of loves him, he's so short and chubby and does stupid things.
The bell rings and I make my way to the gym alongside Mr. Mitchel who attempts to make small talk before he hits me with something that strikes deep.
"If you have so much trouble learning why do you sit in the back?"
Because I am afraid of being judged.
"I don't know sir" I manage to stutter out, caught off guard.
"Well maybe tomorrow start sitting near the front it might help" he suggests and I shrug my shoulders. I'm not exactly enthusiastic about the idea but I don't exactly want to go through high school without learning anything. I guess I'm the only one.
We walk in silence the rest of the way, awkwardly hitting each other's arms because of the uncomfortable closeness. Once we reach the gym I sigh in relief, making my way to the changing rooms prepared for a whole new type of awkward.
Phys. Ed flies by with only one or two kicks and passes toward me and I lazily dawdle my way to history. It's definitely my worst subject and being subjected to a whole double of it is going to be a nightmare. That is unless I find another one of those notes. God I hope I do.
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Dan's P.O.V
Walk in. Everybody stares. Great! This is a lesson on being late.
Chairs that squeak and tables that own the names of a hundred people before me. Covered in pages of words that I cannot form into meaning and some that I have.
School. A kaleidoscope of mismatched facts and a mutual foundation on which I am supposed to "conspire with my peers." But the trouble with a kaleidoscope is that no matter what angle you look from, it's just a mess reflecting itself as many times as it can in an attempt to look beautiful. A vague comparison to something I know all too well. White and pale blue.
Words, rustling paper, scratching pens, and laughter from behind. A piercing yell from in front. Silence.
Ignorance is bliss. Midnight blue. But I am not midnight blue
My pens clawing against paper and tables in a desperate attempt to make something from the incomprehensible sentences on various pieces of paper around me. Looming shadows, ignorant whispers. But I lack an ability to care. I claw and I carve words into the paper before me until I can see the colours seeping from it.
I ask for your lies
And you hand me the mask of deceit you hide behind
I sold you my soul but you keep the receipt in your mind
A leap to victory but defeat is a single step in line
The past is not something to repeat in time
Grey and light blue dripping from between my fingers like wet paint.
Scattered breaths, concerned looks, an overwhelming sense of enclosure. I need to get out, now.
Two piercing eyes stare down toward me. Not at me as I expected but at the mess around me. Crumpled paper with too much importance, too many words but not enough time. Leave the unfinished letter behind. Drop it by the door so he doesn't know the perpetrator.
And go.
Lester, you better find that note.
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