Don't stand so close to me |✔️

CHAPTER 1

A/N: Hey me again! This is a story, that's based on a fiction I read from another fandom, which I've started but not finished. I'm hoping by publishing I can find the motivation to continue but I have 2 other story's on the go updates may be slow. Enjoy xx

^^Bit of Arctic Monkeys just because they are awesome 😅

Declan Donnelly smoothed his hands once more over his perfectly styled fluffy brown hair and scrubbed his sweaty hands on his suit trousers.

Anyone would be nervous on the first day of their new job, but most people weren't new teachers; and most new teachers weren't being sent to re-educate troubled youths in correctional facilities, either.

Checking his tie in the mirror for the ninth time, he sighed, pursing his lips. He looked like he should still be in a school let alone teaching in one, he was quite small for his age and had what people termed an 'adorable baby face' although he was about to turn 25 years of age. He scowled at his appearance and quickly swapped his red tie, opting for a more mature, dark blue one instead. He took one last look in the mirror, praying he wasn't about to get eaten alive like a rabbit in a den full of lions.

Tugging on a trendy black over coat and picking up his briefcase, he glanced in the mirror once again before hurrying out the door.

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Newcastle's Institute for Criminal Boys was intimidating, grey and ugly.

Probably one of the worst environments for nurturing damaged lives back to healthy wholesomeness to be released back into society. Dec shook his head slightly in distaste at the place as he got out of his old Car. Mid-September, and already summer had been swept aside by the cold grey northern winter. He turned his collar up against the chilled autumn air and hurried into the visitor's entrance.

Inside the building, the decorators had made small effort to make the place seem nicer than it actually was. The walls were painted in different hues of brown, supposedly to give the distressed parents a sense of being grounded or at home but Declan couldn't feel anything to that effect.

The lady behind the desk, a middle aged bored looking women with thick eyebrows and matching jet black hair, barely looked up at the Geordie as he approached. He smiled at her but the women's deep repressed voice interrupted before he could speak, "Name?"

"Uhmm Declan Donnelly, I'm here to be the new Mathematics teacher, I'm filling in for Mr Frost."

"That's wonderful, The warden would like to see you before you get checked in... Mr Cowell is currently in his office which is at the end of the corridor there." Her voice was as monotone as the surrounding walls and as fake as the promises of rehabilitation on the tired old pamphlets laid out on her desk. She jerked her thumb to a large, official looking door, going back to study her magazine.

"O-okay thank you Ms.," Dec glanced at the nameplate. How the hell did he pronounce that? She was staring at him, eyes bright with challenge. "Mackel-heiny?" he dragged it out, looking apologetic.

She stared at him for a heartbeat before turning back to her mag. "Mrs.," she snapped. "Nice try. Hurry your ass up, the Warden doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Declan blinked at her. Did he pass or not? He shrugged, heeding her warning and picking up his brief case before moving nervously towards the large door, trying desperately to mask his nervousness. Before he could knock a loud booming voice, laced with a thick British accent, bid him to enter. He did to find himself stood before a stern looking man with a cold stare, framed with black slightly greying hair and some masculine stumble. Dec swallowed thickly under the scrutinising gaze, the man turned his attention from the small Geordie and continued with a tense conversation on the phone which he was currently conducting. Apparently the person on the other end wasn't winning the argument. Declan took advantage of his distraction to look at the person with a nasty reputation for brutal honesty, iron will, and razor sharp intelligence. He supposed you had to have those qualities if you ran a youth prison.