Academy
Chapter One
"Holy shit!"
"Language!"
"Ah-sorry. Shit!"
"...You know that's not what I meant. But it's an improvement, I suppose." Warm laughter drifted out from the small, battered, out of date mobile phone. "Stop gawping."
Wide violet eyes looked down at the much abused phone, amazement clear in his eyes. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as he noticed the smudge marks he had left on the window, where he had, moments earlier, been pressed up against the glass.
"How did you-?" He asked incredulously, pale, elfin features twisting into a frown as long, tapered fingers brought the old phone back up to his ear.
A line of neat rounded holes lined each ear , from lobe to upper ear, eight in total, stood out faintly against his pale skin, an additional three marring his delicate face. A small, gleaming pile of silver and stainless steel spikes, bars and studs lay in his lap. He had, as promised, taken all obvious piercings out.
"You forget how well I know you" the rich voice laughed again. "Which reminds me-take the rest out before you arrive."
He blinked, mouth open "But I took all of the above uniform level-" he protested.
"Tongue?" The voice sounded smug.
He pouted. How did he damn well do that, every time?
"Pouting won't work-I can't see you. Come on, take it out" The voice insisted, amusement clear yet leaving no room for argument.
"Okay, okay. I give." He grumbled, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he unscrewed the top ball of the silver bar, sliding it carefully out of his tongue. He glanced out of the window as he fumbled with the small ball, trying to re-screw it to the bar without dropping his phone. He watched the landscape as he sped past. Fields, so much green, trees-never had he seen so many trees in his life! It seemed like an eternity since they had left the outskirts of the small city surrounding the even smaller commercial airport. Just how far away was this place?
"There, done. Happy now, old man?" He grinned impishly, tone taunting, as he stuck out his tongue at the phone. He edged closer to the window, grin widening at the indignant spluttering floating from the small, battered phone, barely able to contain his own laughter.
"Old man? I'm only four years older than you, brat! Jesus Christ, kid, you'd think I was thirty or something from the way you go on about it all the time."
"Ah-ah! Language" He taunted in a see-song voice, eyes sparkling, pleased, as he always was on the rare occasion that he managed to wind the other up enough to use such language. "And it's almost five years, I'll have you know! Mr I'm-about-to-turn-twenty-one-in-just-a-few-months-time." He sniffed, unable to hold back his giggles at the voices indignant reply.
"Oh, I am so sorry, oh young'en. It's the old age, you see-I have, obviously—tragically!—forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. Ah, how time passes. Oh, the unfairness of it all, the-"
He couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself. Dropping the phone, he fell sideways onto the empty seat, clutching at his sides as laughter racked his slim, slight frame. His laughter only increased as the indignant voice rose, just about reaching him from where it lay on the floor, trying to catch his attention from where it had fallen.
He listened, calmly, as the voice continued. A small, sad smile played on his lips as, now nervous orbs flicked to the window
One pale hand clutched tightly at the small pile of metal, trying to take comfort from the cooling silver and steel. Excitement had been replaced with worry and uncertainty. Sitting up carefully, he glanced down at bitten, chipped, varnish-less nails. Just another in an ever growing, it would seem, list of things he would have to get used to.
Cradling the old, battered phone in the palm of one hand, he asked, uncertainly clear in his voice. "Hey, do you...do you think I'm doing the right thing?" small, white teeth bit nervously on full, cherubim lips.
"You earned that scholarship, Duo. You deserve to be there. I went over the brochure with you and everything . Why second-guess yourself now of all times?"
Pale, tapered fingers twisted nervously, pulling at the end of his now mid-thigh length chestnut locks. He tried to catch sight of his reflection in the window, checking to see if the customary braid that he always kept it in had come undone or mussed in anyway. He wanted to make a good first impression. Things were, after all, going to be tough enough how it was.
"I-I...won't fit in...I don't belong there. I know it and you know it! Just 'cause I passed that silly test-" He stumbled over his words, speaking a mile a minute, nervousness shining through.
"A test with barely a fifteen percent pass rate that you aced" The voice interrupted; not that it made any difference, as Duo continued.
"-That most of the others, you and I both know, won't even have looked at, thanks to Mummy and Daddies money, let alone attempted-"
"So what? You passed-that's all that matters. Just focus on your studies. Who gives a fuck why they're there-it doesn't matter."
Duo sighed, running his fingers through his bangs. No longer excited, now nervous orbs glanced warily out of the window, avoiding looking at his own reflection in the dirty glass, as he watched trees speed past, leaves starting to turn from healthy, rich moss green to coffee, ivy to faded chocolate, emerald to cinnamon.
"Hey" Duo drew his attention to the no longer silent phone, realising with a start that he must have spaced out for a moment.
"Yea?" He answered quietly.
"If they-anyone, anyone at all-students, staff, lecturers-fuck who's son they are or what connections they have-if any of them give you any problems, any at all, just give me a call. I'll come down and sort them out for you, okay?"
Duo let out a strangled laugh at the others little speech. Although his tone had been light, the underlying steely edge to his half in jest promise was unmistakable.
"Sure, sure. What are you going to do-defend my honour, or beat up there dads?" He sniggered.
"Well, you do need someone to do both, dontcha?"
"Rub it in why don't you?" Duo huffed, fiddling with the small mother of pearl button on his white shirt cuff.
He had given his word that he would arrive in his uniform. Not that he would have wanted to wear his normal clothes there, mind you. But there was no need to tell him that, was there?
He wore a white dress shirt-starched and ironed, wrinkle and crease free when he had put it on mere hours earlier, now, looking as though it had spent the better part of a month in the bottom of a pile of the teenagers laundry or screwed up, forgotten in some corner for a week or three . Mother of pearl buttons neatly glinted in the mid morning sunlight, rather than the pearl that the academy usually 'advised' it's students to wear.
He, unlike his soon to be fellow students, did not wear any cufflinks at all. The black necktie he had already loosened, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. Silver glinted faintly from beneath the open white shirt, a delicate chain just peeking out from within the wrinkled white depths. A burgundy waist coat, in a similar state to his shirt, hung lop-sided over his shirt on his slight frame, mother of pearl buttons contrasting nicely with the deep, rich material. The school emblem, a stylized LV in Prussian blue on top of crossed silver roses was clear on the material. Plain black trousers encased his legs, again, having lost their neatly-pressed look over the course of the day. Black leather ankle boots with a small heel adorned his feet, rather than the academy's preferred plain black loafers. They, though, were still shiny-polished and somewhat presentable, well, presentable as long as no-one were to look too close, lest they see the worn and scuffed leather, well cared for, but clearly showing years of love and abuse.
Clear, bitten nails showed no sighs of their usual black polish.
A matching burgundy blazer lay across his lap, having taken it off in an attempt to restrain himself from fraying the overly long sleeves out of nerves. He had resorted, instead, to fiddling with the end of his braid and nibbling on what was left of his nails.
"...If you're really not happy about this, Duo..."
"No, no. I'm just being silly, tch. I'll be fine." Duo hurriedly reassured. He could tell from the tone of voice that all he had to do would be to say the word and he would be on his way back.
"You're sure? I-ah, hold on a sec..."
But to what?
He sighed, blowing at his bands. The main reason he wouldn't say anything, no matter what, reared it's ugly head again.
"I'm sorry, Duo. I've got to go. Call you back this weekend?"
Weekend? That was four days away...
"Sure. Speak to-" He blinked, taking the phone away from his ear as the dial tone hummed carelessly. "Bye..."
Turing to face the window again, he let his forehead rest against the dirt streaked, old pane, allowing, just for a moment, a last show of weakness. Eyes slipping closed, a small sigh escaped downturned lips. "...oh well...I guess things can only get better from here...right?"
End of Chapter One