Rising Moon (MxM) Book 1

Chapter 2. Gangs

"And that concludes the opening ceremony. Welcome to Nirvana Academy."

Heavyset, older, with salt and pepper short hair, a big belly, and a dyed black mustache dressed in a new and expensive charcoal grey suit-- the recipe that makes up Principal Jones. 

He lifts his broad hands, rubbing them together, which sounds like rough sandpaper, waving to the crowd. A proud man, who chooses to put on his most welcoming attitude. No later, he averts attention, turning to address the guidance counselor who's eager to receive orders.

The principal, a man who loves what he has. His unwavering confidence rehearsed, but he's had years to practice that fake smile. He speaks about this school like heaven to people who couldn't see through it.

There are cameramen taking pictures in the beautifully painted auditorium. Sure to be on the news. Maybe a simple advertisement. Clean seats, polished stage, rugs that look no older than an hour. Weird. The cleanliness is beyond that of a normal school.

It's as if he's covering something. The new attendees are about fifty students. Some of them look like they're rich. Some look down on their luck. Others too bored and unbothered to give a damn. One thing for certain, Ahni's sold.

Tapping his older brother on the arm lightly, a fairly innocent-looking young adult. Ahni's bad boy style of dressing, consisting of tattoos, piercings and styled hair, spoke calmly.

"Cres, we have a home now." Ahni conveys. He watches as the principal greets every person, waddling his way up the ramp to exit the room. The opening speech sounded like heaven to Ahni's ears. So many cool things here. He gets the chance to experience them all, and they were even talking about clubs!

Ahni's excited. The uniforms fit perfectly. Being juveniles, they are assigned specific colors. Juvenile is the title given to the new attendees and/or students who didn't have a certain amount of class credits.

The pants and blazers are a shade of dark blue, while undershirts are white. The shirts must be tucked and a tie could be requested. Belts in all sizes and underwear and socks handed to every student. All solid black or brown. Ahni chose to wear every accessory. He wants to look prestigious, but his older brother decides against it.

The clothing is comfortable to him, but he notices Crescent fidgeting a lot at the collar. They aren't used to things like this. Crescent looks over at his brother, exposing a small smile. He only enrolled so that they could have a place to live. Dragging Ahni around the streets is getting tiresome. By the smitten look and constant wows from Ahni, Crescent's happy he had done something right.

He needs to protect him the best way he can. They were told their stay would be free. Clothes, food, shelter, and classes were all supplied. The principal shook their hands the day they signed up. Crescent was weary of being shown this type of attitude because they could never truly trust anyone growing up.

Shifting in his seat, his gaze turns forward when he notices a student in another colored uniform approaching the microphone. He watches as the student adjusts the mic to his height. The only thing he said before walking back off stage,

"Please remain seated, Juvie's."

Now, with the principal gone, what else could happen? Crescent looks around to find that everyone remains seated; however, a short brown-haired, chubby young man is fidgeting in the seat before him. He had to have known something.

Crescent wants answers. Scooting up in his seat, Crescent taps on the male's shoulder, whispering behind his head.

"Umm, excuse me, you know what's happening?" Crescent tries to sound polite, but it comes out awkward. Good thing he had a good recovery— a small clearing of his throat to do the trick. The other guy hasn't taken notice at all.