Beacon Academy, one of the foremost private educational facilities in Vale. Though it called itself an academy it was really just a pretentious high school with an overinflated ego. Some of the students harbored a similar mentality, though most were just glad to be there. It couldn't compete with the sprawling campuses popular in Atlas, it was the best anyone this side of the world could do at this grade level.
A boy stood just outside the wrought iron gates, staring up at the red brick exterior. Many kids his own age traversed the wide white stone staircase leading up to three sets of crimson double doors. Most entered the building, but a few departed its premises to instead laze about on the immaculate green lawn. His eyes wandered up to gaze upon the roof. Only two stories high, the heavily slanted tiles steeped up into a narrow point above the entrance, not unlike a church. He always thought the religious iconography there was intentional, but never went about asking anyone. Maybe he could inquire of whoever his new history professor would be.
The boy brushed a hand through his scraggly blond hair. He knew the reason for his hesitation. Though he had been here many times the past two years, the first day always made him a bit nervous. This would be the beginning of his third year in attendance at Beacon.
A sudden shoulder colliding into his own from behind snapped him out of daydream land. The spacey chap would have liked nothing more than to stand idle there all day, but the world had other plans. He took a short step forward to gain his balance, caressing the affected area. The impact didn't hurt. It just made him feel rather dumb for standing there like a bump on a log. He turned his gaze up to see a tall boy with impossibly broad everything and auburn hair walk by.
"Watch where your going, John." The assailant called back, putting extra emphasis on the name.
"It's Jaune," the blond clarified. "Jaune Arc! And I wasn't going anywhere. You were the one... who was... walking." His fire slowly petered out. It did him no good to talk back, especially when the bigger guy only laughed in response.
Jaune let out a solemn sigh. New year, same old situation. For as much as he hated to admit it, the brutish redhead had a point. There was no good reason for him to remain standing outside. He did this every year, and it was stupid each time. He stood up straight, squared his shoulders. Time to enter, for better or worse. With a determined set in his dark blue eyes, Jaune made his way toward the imposing steps.
The entrance opened up into a vast—and mostly barren—lobby. To the immediate right was a staircase which led up to the second floor. The auditorium could be found through a set of doors in this direction as well. On the opposite side was the main office. A few long glass windows allowed vision within the space. Assistant Principal Goodwitch conversed with an aging secretary. There was also a memorial to Beacon graduates who had became soldiers, and a huge, overflowing trophy case. The only other things of note were the wood and glass doors on the other end. It was through these which Jaune traversed.
He found himself in a hallway. The passage was long and wide. Tall and slender grey lockers lined the east and west walls, broken up at regular intervals by hanging doorways, and benches bolted to the fancy achromatic plaster walls. Angular corners to both the left and right at the far end led to other portions of the building. Just beyond them, another set of stairs zig-zagged up to the second level.
The space was surprisingly devoid of students. Most liked to hang out upstairs. The ones who remained on this level wore the distinctive uniform of Beacon Academy, as did he. The girls wore a black jacket and tan vest over a white blouse and red plaid skirt. A red ribbon tie around the collar and pair of brown loafers completed the ensemble. The boys, on the other hand, had a much simpler black suit, blue vest, white shirt, and red tie. Jaune never liked the uniform, personally. It clashed with his hair.
Jaune would've been content to walk on and find a place to wait for the first bell, but just after entering the corridor he passed the student bulletin board. Well, one of a few, anyway. Here, the children could place faculty-approved messages for others to read. Most days it was rather empty, but for the first week of school posters covered it's every inch. They were advertisements for the various clubs available for students to join. There were sports teams—some of which played competitively—the math league, several creative ventures, a new cosplay club, the newspaper, and pretty much anything else one would expect to find in a normal school. But, one specific offering caught his attention.
It was a hastily drawn up little flier, obviously done by hand, though the hands which made it were quite talented. Letters alternating between crimson, alabaster, ebony, and gold read in a big, flowy cursive "The Light Music Club." Jaune had only heard tell of such an organization on television. He honestly didn't think they even existed in the real world. But, a notice for it wouldn't be posted if it weren't a real club.
The boy took a few steps closer, reading through the ad. It was somewhat sparse in terms of information. A small body of text said something about "calling all musicians, young and old, professional or otherwise." It offered a place to play and practice, and socialize with other performers. It promised a chance to learn and grow, and even made a point to welcome beginners.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't enticed by the offer. To meet other musicians and perhaps share knowledge with them was not an opportunity he'd had during his short time involved with music. Judging by this neat little piece of paper, the Light Music Club seemed like a pretty calm place without the pressures and performance anxiety of the orchestral and jazz bands. It also didn't have the pompous air of most genre-dedicated clubs.
He thought about it for a moment longer there. It certainly looked like a good offer, but maybe too good to be true. Then again, club sign-ups lasted for three weeks. He had plenty of time to make a decision. No harm in scoping it out in the meanwhile. He took note of the location, Music Room C, the smallest and furthest of the three music rooms. The blond hadn't planned on joining a club, but all plans were subject to change. If only he'd brought his guitar...
…
Soon enough the first bell rang, and Jaune was whisked away to his homeroom. He only spent a short amount of time in there, though, as it was mainly a place for announcements and lunch orders. However, this being the first day, there were no announcements other than a reminder to sign up for clubs and sports teams. The most interesting part was the energetic orange-haired girl he sat next to in the second row. Though cute, she was a little overbearing.
After homeroom it was Algebra 2, his worst subject by a longshot. He'd actually had to retake it, and as such was stuck in a class full of mostly tenth-graders. They seemed cool, despite their younger age. Honestly, Jaune was just happy to get it out of the way early in the day.
The classes that followed were history, physics, and study hall. He took the second of three lunch periods after that, sitting alone as he munched on a decadent hamburger. The only thing Beacon did better than education, was food. Seriously, the school could make a fortune if it opened up a restaurant.
Jaune suffered with his fellow students through his next three classes, which were psychology, Language Arts, and a computer programming course his mother insisted he take. The boy had no interest in technology, at least not to that extent, but she was adamant on it, likely because of her professional life. Whatever. it was the last period of the day, and the teacher was cool. It could've been far worse.
When the final bell rang, a freshly exhausted Jaune began to pack up his things. As always, he was among the last group to leave the room. Though exhausted, the mental miasma accrued during the day faded the moment he crossed into the hall. The pressures of academia lifted from his shoulders in one great heave. During the summer, he'd forgotten how freeing the end of the day could be. It was a rush, but not one worth the monotony required to obtain it.
As he walked through the hall, deftly dodging traffic and slow walkers, Jaune realized his feet automatically led him to his next destination that day. Most students were on their way to a locker, but not him. He tended to never use the things. Ever since middle school, he'd instead just taken all of his books with him in an oversized backpack. Not the healthiest way of going about things, but certainly the most efficient. No, Jaune had a much more creative end in mind.
Slowly tiring feet encased in uncomfortable shoes led him at a steady pace. Music Room C was on the same level—the second floor—as he currently was, just on the complete opposite end. This gave him a little time to think. As his mind wandered, he realized it was a moot endeavor. Thoughts of the club had pervaded his mind all day, making it sometimes hard to focus on the teachers. Not that they had anything important to say, anyway. It was all just introductions and handouts on the inaugural day.
Honestly, Jaune surprised himself by just how calm he was. The club on his mind all day quelled any nervousness he may have felt. Now, the dominant emotion in his head was curiosity. He wanted to see what this gathering was all about. However, a little flutter still clutched his chest. No matter how inviting the flier made it sound, thrusting himself into a new, uncertain social situation came with just an amount of disquiet.
Clever use of underutilized staircases allowed Jaune to cut a shorter—if convoluted—route to the music room than simply following the corridors would allow. He pushed off a top stair and turned a corner left into the distant end a much longer hall, his destination only a short skip away. The final door on the right stood wide open. A smile stretched across his lips, accentuating the butterflies in his stomach. He was so close. Too late to go back now.
As Jaune approached, the sound of music seeped into the passage. A single guitar leaked from the opened sesame. Light, crunchy distortion partially masked the amplified strings. It was a jaunty tune, simple but quick with musings in the major scale. At a guess it sounded like an interlude of some sort, though he professed not the know how to make such a determination.
The loudening song dissolved into rapid power chords as Jaune approached the threshold. This evolution gave it away as some sort of modern alternative rock song. The boy steeled himself, ready for whatever awkward introductions would follow.
Without missing a beat, he stepped into the room. However, he didn't make it far, stopping dead in his tracks immediately after the jam. Upon his entrance, so too did the music cease. Jaune just stood there, stunned. No amount of mental provision could have prepared him for the unusual lilac irises which looked up at him.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a project I've had kicking around for along time, a combination of my two great loves: RWBY and Punk Rock. I was looking for a way to cure some mental burnout on my main project (an original), and thus we have Some People's Kids. The title is stolen from an old band of mine.
Since this is a side project, I can't promise anything with it. Updates will be as regular as I can manage. Chapter 2 is almost done, though, so expect that in the next few days, or so.
Most chapters will be longer than this. I just had to split what I already had, or else it would've been easily close to, if not longer than, 10,000 words for a single entry (which is why the second is almost done). So, that's why Chapter 1 ends on a stupid cliffhanger. I'll try not to make a habit of that.
Songs featured in this chapter, in order of appearance:
1.) "Skate or Die" - Teenage Bottle Rocket. It's what our "mystery" person was playing before Jaune interrupted.
And, yes, I committed the sin of making Beacon into a modern high school. Get over it.