Consider it a Welcome

Chapter 1: I'm Dan, Dan Howell

Fashionably late. That's what Dan was trying to tell himself anyway. Prior to this fateful morning he had set an alarm for a sensible time that would've allowed him to dress himself presentably and arrive before his students, in theory. In practice he had rolled over and smacked his alarm clock to the floor with disgust for the pounding sounds knawing into his brain, shouting strings of profanities for how early it was and thinking something along the lines of "fuck that was like waking up for school all over again" before drifting off to sleep.

Now the clock was vibrating against his stained apartment floor, making that same knawing noise as Dan clawed his way out of his darkened bed sheets, complete with pink squares amongst the monochrome where he had accidentally thrown a red jumper in with them two years ago. "Fuck me" he sighed swinging his limbs over the side of the wooden bed, running a pale hand through his untamed curly mop of hair decently un-birds nest today. With a deep sigh and yawn he fluttered his eyelashes slowly, squinting as light streamed into his bedroom through the wonky shutters. He shifted his gaze to the wooden wardrobe in the corner of his room, mirrored doors staring his reflection back at him aside from the view obscured by a suit. A suit. "Shit!" He yelped springing out of bed comedically like a cartoon character before feeling pain surge through his right foot and into his calf, stimulating his reflex arc as he landed on a three pronged laptop charger. "Oh I'm so fucked" he huffed, mentally slapping himself for being so complacent as he ran into the bathroom. Like a ninja he combed through his hair, shoved toothpaste round his mouth and sprayed down deodorant, careful to avoid his eye unlike in a fateful incident he had a few years ago, before sprinting out the bathroom. Hurriedly he threw off his clothes, letting them hit the floor and prayed no one chose to look through his apartment window too carefully at this particular time. "Shit shit shit" he repeated, desperately yanking on a white button down with tiny bumble bees embroidered into it and pulling a pre tied skinny black tie over his head. Lastly he hopped around his room grabbing phone, wallet and keys as he pulled on his smart black trousers before sprinting into the apartment corridor.

Dashing down the hallway he considered the kitchen but with a glance to his phone concluded it was far too late for toast now. Slamming against his front door he slipped into his smart lace up shoes, the heels worn and scuffed where he refused to untie them and simply forced his feet in before flicking the handle of the door up and stepping through it with a satisfying slam, probably hard enough to knock his framed muse art off the wall but that was future Dans problem.

Mid way down the pavement, sweat breaking on his forehead as he sprinted with no remorse he considered how frightfully unfit he seemed to be. Apparently DDR Sunday's were not good enough as a form of preparation for long distance sprinting. Despite living in the middle of london, Dan didn't have a car or a bike for that matter which he seriously would have accepted at this point. He had a licence and all but simply no money. Before moving to London he'd been an actor in Cambridge, starring in the amateur performances at the ADC theatre, hoping it would lead to something more. It never did on its own so he decided to take the leap himself, moving to the home of the west end. He didn't consider his move a mistake, certainly not one he regretted but the path to stardom was not for the faint hearted or the light-of-money-in-the-bank which Dan certainly was. Hence the teaching job. University hadn't been on Dan's plan for life but his parents convinced him into it, sensibly pointing out that a back up may be required later in life. Although he had hoped 'later in life' had meant when he was maybe 45 rather than 28 but whatever it would do, thus a teaching degree he got and in English and drama no less. Oh the joys of Jane Eyre and an Inspector Calls or perhaps Romeo and Juliet. No matter, it paid the bills.

"Did I lock the door?" Dan thought suddenly as he sprinted up the escalator from the tube. It was quiet today at Piccadilly Circus, not even the Apollo was glowing with some show or comedians name to make the street seem busy. September wasn't exactly tourist time, Dan supposed. Despite his previous fails on the underground he found himself taking the self-moving stairs two at a time, smart shoes slipping slightly on the soles with every step. But eventually, with the click of an Oyster card, he found himself outside his new place of employment.

The black school gates lay bolted shut in front of him, chain across and all. "Oh what the fuck" he exclaimed, pressing the palms of his hand into his eyes. Slowly he removed them, searching for a second path. In the corner of his eye a paved path sat, hidden behind some bushes. "Yes" Dan fist pumped the air, before quickly lowering his arm and speeding to the fence. Upon reaching it he slammed his hands down on the...sticky?...gate, pushing it open with ease. Not pondering on it too much he continued his quick sprint along the pathway into the school and was faced with a cross roads. Ahead sat a short lengthy building, extractor fans embedded in the wall which he concluded was the sports hall and certainly not where he was going. To the right sat a small building, stand alone from the rest with French and German flags hung in the windows and a sign for the computer suite. Nope.

The path towards the sports hall seemed to continue onwards, bending round through a small car park and past the sports fields. Dan prayed that wasn't where he was going, his legs were shaking as it was. But to his left was exactly what he was looking for. Above two heavy looking doors read a large sign "Reception", immediately Dan bolted to the door, smacking the button to open the wheelchair accessible doors and ran to the desk. "Hello can I help you?" A woman popped her head round a doorway behind the curved desk, stacks of paper in her hand. "Yes-" Dan breathed, gasping for oxygen as he clung to the desk for sheer life. "Are you...ok? You look like you've seen a ghost" the woman asked, stepping out of the room she stood in. She had long cascading hair that looked slightly fake, it was bleached blonde and just sort of off, clear dark skin and warm soft eyes, her thick lips were pulled into a bemused smirk and eyebrows painting a picture of sympathy.

"Yes sorry hi I'm Dan, Dan Howell I'm-" he began but was quickly cut off. "The new English teacher, taking over from Mr Cassidy. Yes yes I know who you are. I had to cover your form this morning. They were more than confused why 'Mr' Howell was a woman" she laughed. "Oh Jesus I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you" he began to splutter, hands flying everywhere. "No don't worry, it allowed me to give them a crash course in gender roles and gender identity. It was fun, I certainly didn't get it when I was in year 9" she shook her head, holding out her hand. "I'm Beatrice by the way, Beatrice Ulansky but please call me Bea, I can't stand the full name. I teach physics and maths because you know budget cuts" she shrugged, lifting his hand from his side and forcing them to shake hands whilst he stood mouth agape. "I'll see you around Mr Howell, the science department is open to you if you need a friend at lunch time. I can assure you it's just as bad finding friends as a new teacher as a new student. English block is out those doors and on the right there" she smiled spinning him around and pointing gently to a rectangular brick building. "Up the stairs and down the corridor, all the way along too-" she paused, leaning over the desk to look at the pinned up time table, "M11, blank walls you can't miss it. Good luck Howell" she tapped his shoulder gently before disappearing round the corner.

"Uh...thank...you?" He stuttered staring after the headstrong woman but she disappeared before he could say anything of worth. Adjusting his tie with a firm nod he walked back towards the green doors and towards the building apparently holding his class room. Casually he meandered through the doors, up the stairs, looking over the history display adorning the walls of the staircase. The hallway was empty, classrooms a-buzz on either side of him as he walked which was when he remembered: "shit I'm meant to be teaching". Picking up the pace again, much to the hatred of his legs, he dashed through the double doors of the peeling cream walled corridor right to the end like Bea had said and sure enough, there on his right with blank walls visible through the fake wooden door "M11".

Dan lifted his hand, grabbing the green plastic handle and swinging down on it, pushing door wide. "Good Morning Class I'm Mr Ho-" he began to address the surprised faces of the teenagers staring back at him when a bell sounded straight above his head, ringing through his entire body. "Thanks Mr Ho. Great first lesson" a kid sniggered sliding his backpack over his shoulders and sauntering past the bumbling young teacher. "See you tomorrow...don't Tell your parents!" Dan could only think to call as he watched his students exit the room. "Damn. Way to start the year" the chuckle of a voice came from behind.