Welcome back to my newest, most complex story line! After an extensive break from Fanfic, I am now free to write when I want, and really want to push forward my ideas again. If you enjoyed this first chapter to what is going to be a long and exciting story, then let me know in the review section!

Enjoy!

August 31st, 1935

"Dan!" Phil shouted from the window of his parent's car as it pulled to a noise halt on the grey gravel. The black 1920's Chevrolet was set at an artistic angle on the drive circling a majestic water feature and pulled around to the Dukeries Academy's iron decorated doors. Well-kept willow trees hung around the whole drive in, casting peaceful shadows across the entrance up to the ivy-covered grey brick walls of the institution. The single pane windows were intricately ornamented and each frame followed the other, stretching an equal distance across the front of the ancient build. It was a beautiful build only appreciated by some.

The car had barely stopped before Phil, in his maroon attire came bounding out the rear door and at a beaming Dan, stood with his trunk and satchel alongside Mr and Mrs Howell. He wasn't expecting such an impact from his closest friend, and the huge hug knocked Dan flying back a few feet with Phil hanging onto him, straight into Dan's oversized suitcase. They both watched in shock as it toppled loudly over into the grass verge, specifically into a murky spot. Both lads spilt over in laughter. Mrs Howell didn't see the amusement in this, however. She marched in a stuck up manner and lifted the weighted luggage, tutting audibly enough for the country to hear her disgust. But Dan and Phil both ignored this, used to her twisted tongue after years of friendship.

Looking away from each others gleaming faces, they saw both parents strictly shake hands and turn on their heels to walk to the large doors in silence, Dan and Phil dragging their possessions in their tail. As they all approached in an ice cold huddle, the doors edge creepily open, all stepping into the oversized foyer hall. The ground and beams were a matching shade of dark oak which lined the whole building, and the dying red carpet was smeared with outdated pre-nineteenth century designs was yet to wear down to its underneath, though showed no avail. The walls were covered in paintings of old people that Dan had never taken much notice to remember the names, nor had Phil. They approached the lamp lit reception, where the ripened woman named Pheobe seemingly never left. The boys had once joked that she had never left the academy once since she had come of age, living to her death in that very chair.

"So, young Daniel Howell and a very…dashing looking Philip Lester. Early this year… again" She croaked out loud, suspiciously eyeing Phil's peculiar tie. Entailed with many shapes of the moon, he looked up with a glint in his eye, knowing his parents would never forgive him or his 'overactive imagination.

"Yes, precisely… 6 hours and 42 minutes" Sparked Dan, looking at his watch brightly. This earnt him a solid glare from his father.

"Entering year… year…" she shakily shuffled through the mountainous paperwork, electing to ignore Dan's comment. Dan cut in again.

"Year 11. We were in year 10 last year, and year 12 next year. So this year it's year 11!" his voice was sarcastically bright, knowing full well the dear woman wouldn't catch onto his daring humour. As funny as Phil found it, Dan received a sharp clip around his ear from his father, who didn't believe in humour. Life for his parents was about waking up, living miserably, and going back to sleep.

"Mr Lester, you should reside in Lincoln senior corridor, room 12. Mr Howell, please make your residence also in Lincoln senior corridor, room 13. Will your parents be accompanying you to your bed space?" Pheobe croaked out again, looking out to all four adults. It was Mrs Howell who spoke first.

"No – is there possibility for our Daniel to be swapped for another room? Much like last year? We hoped that some… seclusion would be advantageous to our son's future, especially in this important year of their life." Dan's mother only pretended to show her best interests for Phil as well, though they both were well aware of her controlling tendencies. They looked at each other and then both at Pheobe, who slowly rifled through some more paper, before lowering her spectacles and peering all parents.

"There will be no possibility of changing the accommodation decisions unless there is an underlying problem that the boys, as grown up as they are, will talk to us about. only at that point should we consider a change. should they feel the change is nessecairy, they can speak now or forever hold their silence." She placed two keys on the desk anyway, marking her dare for anyone to protest.

No one spoke a word.

"That's settled. Boys, I assume you both know your way around the block. Your parents are asked to linger for no more than half an hour"

This was no problem for them both, as all four adults walked out of the institution in an instance as if they had not just left their children until the Christmas break. Dan looked at Phil, mouthing a race, as they scooped up their belongings and pulled themselves in a hurry to beat one another to the corridor on the left. As soon as they were out of sight (there was a frogs croak of a cry telling them not to run in the establishment) they ignored every school rule and ran as fast as they crashing ranks would allow, shouting a laughing as Dan competitively pushed in front of a panting, Phil, breaking out of the main building into the Academy study park, which led right to St Dukes Block, where the 6 corridors would pan out. They smashed through the door, crashing into one another and raced their way along the corridors until they reached the senior section – a code which both already knew being punched in. they travelled far to the end, rounding the corner of Lincoln corridor and racing to the middle of the candle lit stretch.

"Yes!" Cried out Dan, Shrinking against the double doors which separated the corridor into two parts (male and female) "the exercise too much for you? What about that Anxiety thing?" He half laughed, half looked concerned at Phil, who was just stumbling next to Dan and wheezing rather loudly. He straightened up with a disgruntled expression.

"I don't have anxiety! It's asthma, and I cope with it very well, thank you very much, sir." Phil's nose rose into the air as he pulled his old key out of his pocket and turned to room 12, the numbers shining on the door boldly. Dan did the same, shoving the heavy oak door wide open and carelessly slinging his belongings to the floor, and landing face first onto the bed. It was as soft as he expected.

"You might want to move these before the housekeeper gets a chance to unlock her ruler," Phil said coolly from the door. Dan looked up at him, his shoulder against the frame of the door and holding a large tin. Dan stood up, almost running over to Phil and hugging him tightly around the neck.

"God Damn it, Lester, I've missed your pretentious arse." Dan laughed into Phil's shoulder.

"Well no wonder, you were too preoccupied with your love last year ti even think to give me your address. How on earth was I going to send you my hilarious happenings?" Phil laughed a little but realised his mistake.

If there was one thing he did know about Dan over the summer, it was then Dan had split up with the young Mary-Jane, daughter of upper-class multi-national business owners. Their matching had been something their parents had carefully planned, even Mary herself being talked into asking Dan out initially. Except for Mary was snobbish and expected everything, the type of person Dan could not bear to be around. It was sentenced to doom.

"I'm sorry Dan. I didn't mean to talk about that" Phil felt Dan leave his presence and move to the bed, where the springs creaked under his seated position. Phil hesitated but moved to join him.

"You don't quite understand. I'm not bothered about separating with her... Well, I think you knew that anyway." Dan looked at his hands, twisting them uncomfortably. He wasn't very happy talking about such a difficult subject.

"I knew. She meant no value to you… so how did your parents react? They were very boastful of your relationship." Phil asked curiously, knowing just how cruel Dan's parents could be, and knowing how he felt because the same had happened to Phil the year previous.

"Reserved to my room. Lunch of broth. Basically? I became invisible" Dan held back on his secrets.

"Are you sure that's all?" Phil asked, knowing Dan wouldn't be bothered about being locked in his room.

"Yes, they were particularly kind" He perked his head up and acted a bit happier, "Anyway, what's that you have?" Dan referred to the tin that Phil was still clutching.

"Oh, this? Well, my mother was worried that with all the stress this year, my asthma symptoms would fluctuate, so she found this." He handed over the tin.

Dan flipped over the metal holder to reveal the company name printed at the top. Beneath it read:

"'Asthma Powder'. Phil, are you even sure this works? Last year you were sentenced to fresh air. They were even considering to removed the panes in your room last summer."

"Well, I sure do hope it does" He sighed, taking it back and flipping it over. "See here, I have to use the top lid and burn the powder, then inhale the fumes it sends off."

"You are going to attempt this yourself" Dan questioned, eyeing the word flame.

"…Not quite. This is why I've brought it over…"

"Wait," Dan laughed, looking up at Phil, who had gone red in the face "You can't be telling me that you are afraid of doing this by yourself, as so need my assistance."

"There is no shame in that?" Phil laughed back.

"Hmmm, I should think not. Especially upon your history, I would not trust you inhaling this without the flame present"

Both laughed at one another, hanging onto the bouncing tunes of each other's voice which both had missed so dearly in the last 10 weeks of their summer break. Whilst Phil travelled many a mile north, Dan kept to the area, only an hour out of their home. This was almost too much at times, knowing that out of boarding school and in the real world, Dan and Phil were the loneliest people. Even though they were the best of friends, they were more lonely in those 10 weeks than they had ever been in their lives.

After so many minutes of chuntering about their expectations of the year to come, Phil stood up, announcing his retire to his room to unpack everything. Dan agreed to do the same after much bargaining from Phil, who did not want Dan to receive yet more lashes before the year even began.

After Phil left the room, the smiled slid straight of Dans face as he reached carefully around his back to feel the raised areas his friend had touched without knowing how painfully tender they were. He stood up as if he was bearing on the age of dear old Pheobe and walked painfully across to the full-length mirror on his towering wardrobe, waiting to be filled. He carefully lifted his shirt and twisted to look at his back.

Great red lines marked his back, as many as 20 in varying conditions. The worst were weeping yet a little, the scar beginning to produce and black appearing along the edges where the bruising really began to spread. The rest of his back was many colours of blue, red and black. Dan remembered the three nights this happened vividly. The first was done with his father's belt. The other two nights with the scolding poker from the fireplace downstairs – the only other part of his home ever got to see for the rest of the summer. His mother was very angry. She blamed him for ruining her ideal future for her son. This was his fault.

Phil paced his room, having only put away a handful of his possessions. He knew something was wrong. The way Dan didn't taunt him. The way he dropped after he carelessly mentioned Mary-Jane – oh what happened to him? Surely dan, who had not a care in the world, could get over his parent's confinement and a snobby upper-class girl with no sense of the real world. Phil knew this not to be true. Dan could put up with his parents, his 'heartbreak'. But there was something he was not dealing with, and it was a lot worse than anything Phil had seen.