Chapter 1: Louis

Loud, heavily bass boosted music vibrated throughout the thick walls of the mansion. His mansion.

Louis, atop the wooden staircase that connected the floors of his house, smiled down at the numerous guests that flooded his living room. Bodies were crunched together in awkward grinding positions while people danced the night away, careful to hold their drinks above their heads so they could take another swig when the buzz started to wear. Couches were pushed up against the wall, but that didn't stop a few couples from hogging all the leg room with the entanglement of their bodies. Louis glanced away from them, repressing the gag that threatened his throat. He shook his head, smiling, and bouncing his brown orbs from face to face down below. Many had their eyes closed, and were rocking their bodies to the rhythm of the music he blared from speakers in every corner of the room. He downed another sip of alcohol.

He swished the liquid, some of his parents finest. They would never know. Not like they would care if they ever found out. Louis shut his eyes and took another drink, longer this time. He felt the cool burn run down his throat before he was tugged away from the cup.

"Loser, geddown here!" Marlon slurred from the bottom of the stairs. Louis grinned at his best friend. His mullet was sticking up on many ends and his eyes were half shut. Brody clung to his arm, swaying gently. They were both clearly intoxicated, but Louis couldn't judge as the rum spread warmth across his chest.

Without missing another beat, Louis hopped down the stairs, a hand trailing across the railing, next to the bodies of his friends.

"Where's Vi? Have you seen her?" Louis shouted over the music.

"Dude, I don't even think she showed up!" Marlon spat in his face, leaning into every word with feigned interest. Louis felt his heart sink a little, but he couldn't blame her. She hardly showed up to parties any more.

"What about Aasim?" Louis pressed.

"Forget it man! It's not your fault they didn't show." Louis' eyes became downtrodden as he thought about his friends sitting at home, working or sleeping or doing something unbelievably boring. Marlon spoke again. "Come on. Let's go to the table, they have beer pong going."

Louis smirked. "I would happen to be the best beer pong player in the world."
"Heha, shuddup man!" Marlon grinned.

"Lead the way!" Louis bowed clumsily and Marlon shoved past him, strolling towards the kitchen.

The music began to slightly fade as they left the dance room, and now voices occupied the air space. Marlon weaved in and out of bodies aimlessly floating, and all with drinks or tightly rolled joints in their hands, and Louis trailed close behind. He knew where his kitchen was.

Suddenly, Louis was thrown to the side by a beefy shoulder. He looked wide eyed at the assailant, and saw Omar stumbling through the room.

"Oh, sorry Lou!" His deep voice rang out before he tripped back towards the dance room. Louis put on a sideways grin. Omar was a real 'hoot' (as Ruby would say) once you got him drunk.

Finally, he stumbled in after Marlon. The kitchen was crowded with hammered teens all circling the table with red solo cups standing upright. Louis huffed with delight when he saw Mitch lining up a shot. With insane accuracy, he sunk the ball in the center cup. He took a second one, and sunk that one too. People were cheering and clapping him on the back as the guy across the table frowned.

Louis absentmindedly watched the game, but he was pondering Violet. Why didn't she show up? Aasim was another case, he was never really one for huge parties, but Violet knew how to have a good time. Junior year had been great, and they had partied together quite often. And, as far as he knew, she didn't express sympathy for changing that senior year. He pulled up his phone and scrolled through their recent texts before writing a new one.

You realy shuld get over hree. Nihht is stil younf.

He cringed with the bad spelling, but smiled anyways. He knew the alcohol was not aiding his reflexes nor his coordination. A minute later, the phone buzzed in his hand. After many minutes of attempting to read, Louis started to make out the phrases.

Jesus Louis. I'll try to be there next time. Try not to throw up too much

He rolled his eyes and frowned, pocketing the device. His eyes darted back up when cheering erupted from directly in front of him. Mitch had just sunk a ball into the last cup. He walked around with his fists in the air and a bunch of guys clapping him on the back.

"All right, all right! Stand back, and let the king enter." People watched Louis as he spread his arms and tried his best to stroll casually. They stared with wide eyes, and he put on a grin. Having people look at him was one of Louis' favorite activities. Mitch sneered playfully.

"Is that so? Does the king really think he can stand up to Mitch?" People around them raised eyebrows, scattered whispering encompassing the room. Louis just smirked and picked up a ball before effortlessly shooting it… off the rim of a far cup. Mitch scoffed. "Okay then!"

Louis ended up losing. Badly. But everyone, including himself, had a lot of laughs; plus Mitch threw up in his bathroom.

Bzz bzz

Louis clamped his eyes shut. He hated his alarm. He hated his alarm. He hat-

Bzz bzz

"Fuck," he grumbled as he slammed his hand into the button to stop the noisy torture. He slumped his head back into the pillow, feeling the warmth encompass his nearly naked body. He feigned a smile into the sheets. Then he remembered. His eyes darted open as he threw himself into the frigid air, slipping on the first clothes he saw before racing out the mahogany door to his bedroom.

As he raced into the living room, he caught a glimpse of the giant clock over their fireplace. It read 10:27. His parents would be home in less then two hours. He ran a dry hand through his dreads before snatching a few garbage bags and heaving them into the living room.

The house itself was a mess, albeit an empty mess. No one had stuck around to clean, as many had caught Uber's to their house or the next hottest location. So, like always, Louis had to do everything himself. Shoving empty beer and rum bottles and what must've been thousands of solo cups into a bag before rushing and sliding paper plates into another; wiping up numerous vomit stains (Louis had learned from experience and could erase a gallon of vomit in 5 minutes); cleaning counters and disinfecting the couches before moving them back to their original spot. Louis worked like a horse, and it was well rewarded as he looked around his mansion and it was spotless. He knew his parents didn't care like normal ones did, but they would definitely throw a hissy fit if they saw absent white stains on the couch (disgusting) or mounds of solo cups on their marble counter. He slumped on a different couch and glanced back at the clock. 11:49. He smiled and rubbed his cheeks with his palms.

Before long, Louis' parents walked in the large doors to their son gazing at the ceiling on their deluxe couch. Without a word, hardly a glance, they walked past him and up the stairs, to their rooms to unpack their suitcases.

Louis had been awake. He heard them through the facade of disorientation wander right past him. They did this when they left him to go to Cabo, Venice, Sydney… Every time they would come back from a trip, he would be on the couch. And every single time they wouldn't even say hi. You would think that after not seeing your child for days you would at least greet them. He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed his breathing, willing the hurt, the desperation to subside. It always did, eventually.

After an hour of feigned sleep and contemplation, Louis hoisted himself to his feet and walked back to his room. He hadn't eaten since last night, but it's not like he was hungry. He had a forensics project to do, a math worksheet, and a thesis statement due on how industrialization impacted American economies. Louis groaned and opened his backpack.

He didn't go to bed until 1 the next morning.

Monday came way too fast. Louis snapped his 6:45 alarm off and tugged on a usual outfit for himself; jeans, a black undershirt with a tan coat. He ran a hair through his dreads and brushed his teeth before walking out the door. No words were spoken to or by his parents.

Crazy Rap by Afroman pumped through his airpods. Louis gently rocked his head to the beat, humming the lyrics, however objectifying they may be. Louis flared his nose and sunk his head when he rounded a street corner and got a pristine view of the old red brick academy, Ericson's Academy. Louis cracked his neck before starting off towards the embodiment of hell itself.

Louis entered the school at 7:27, 33 minutes early. He preferred to get there before it was bustling with people, mostly so he could get to a music room and get his body moving with the piano before school started. Or to write his song. That was what he planned to do today.

He pulled up to an empty one and smiled. This room had his favorite piano, with just the right sensitivity and flex of the keys. Louis entered with haste and shrugged off his backpack before gracefully landing on the bench. He quickly restored his airpods before resting his hands on a B major chord. Gently, he pressed down. There was something about that key in that octave that made his spine shiver. He pulled out a binder and flipped through pages and pages of boring school work until he found it. A piece of paper with staff lines printed out and notes drawn over it and scribbled out and drawn again. It was messy, and nowhere near finished, but Louis smiled upon it with pride. He fished out a pencil, and laid them both on the wooden back of the piano. Slowly, he started with the notes he had written; gently playing his soft and melancholy melody. He breathed in the sounds floating past him with every second, feeling his heart harden and fall. Then he paused on a note. He hadn't written that far. He analyzed his hands, testing different keys and combinations. G minor, A minor, D major with a 7th… nothing was fitting. He shook his head, gritting his teeth as his fingers jumped around, waiting for a delicate sound to cleanse the air. An idea popped into his head. He would pedal and sustain that note, play it an octave up after a count! Then he could enter the Allegro section. His heart instantly picked up as he scribbled indiscriminately on his paper.

15 minutes later, Louis was happier than usual to sit in Forensics class as people strolled in for the first period of the day, all with glum and tired faces. Aasim sat behind him, and was absentmindedly discussing his project with Louis, who was hardly paying attention to him. Violet strolled in two minutes before the bell, her purple jacket worn as usual and her blonde hair barely combed. She locked eyes with Louis and gave him a slight nod. He smiled a toothy grin back at her, and she rolled her eyes as she took her desk diagonally in front of him.

"Okay class!" The stubby woman who sat in her desk chair called out, Mrs. Harding. "The blue tray up front is for your projects. I assume you all completed the paper, as this was 30% of your grade. I will not accept late work, as you know, so please turn it in." Louis huffed and fished through his backpack until he tugged out a small blue binder which held the forensics paper. He tugged it out and stood to walk to the front.

"Lou! Could you turn mine in too?" Aasim was holding his paper towards Louis.

"Sure." Louis snatched the paper and walked to the front, placing both neatly into the tray.

After the bell rang that signaled the end of the first period, Louis walked into the hall before slumping against the entrance. Aasim walked by him, and Louis waved him off. It was a minute longer before Violet emerged. She looked almost surprised he had waited.

"Violet! My queen!" He proclaimed.

"What, Lou?" Her voice was low. They started walking towards their second period, English, together.

"Woah! No need for skepticism, Vi. I just wanted to talk."
"What about?"

"The next party." Violet visibly shrugged away from Louis.

"God Louis." She rubbed her forehead. "You just had one. Maybe take a weekend off?"

"Violet! Do you not remember last year? We were animals!"

"I remember."

"We need to get back to that. I really miss having you around," he spread his arms. Violet stared at the floor. Louis looked back to her, and saw her discomfort. "Oh, shit. Hey." He stopped in the middle of the hallway and dropped his voice so the few people milling around wouldn't pick up on their conversation. She stopped and turned to him. "Hey, I'm sorry. If you don't wanna come, I get it."

"No! No, Louis. I… God, I just… I'm really stressed about this whole college thing. I still don't have a clear idea on where I want to go, ya know. Or what I want to do." She looked back at him.

Louis pondered for a moment, then smiled. "What are you doing Wednesday night?"

"What?" She sounded a little shocked.

"Wednesday. You know, the day after Tuesday."

"I know!" She snapped. A pause. "Nothing… I think."

"Good!" They started walking again, realizing they could be late to class.

"Why?"

"Well… I'm doing nothing too. So you're coming to my place and we're gonna figure out your problems and have some heart to heart." He approached the door to their classroom. "What do you say?"

Violet hesitated for a moment. Then, she looked up at him, a slight smile on her face. "Yeah. I'd like that Louis."

He beamed. "Great! After you, madam." He swayed his body so he was directing her in the classroom, like a true gentleman.

"Idiot." She walked past him, and he entered after her, just as the bell rang.

"Did you guys hear?" Mitch asked loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear. Louis had just gotten his slop from the cafeteria lunch line, and was the last to take a seat. He sat across from Violet at the end, with Aasim to his left, Ruby next to him, and Willy on the end. Mitch sat across from Willy, and Omar and Tenn in between Mitch and Violet. Despite Louis, Violet, Aasim and Mitch and Omar being seniors, Ruby being a junior, and Tenn and Willy only being freshmen, they had all formed a… a squad in a sense. This was their usual group to hang out with if the need ever arose. They had a group chat, which was more so for Louis to send memes and Mitch to threaten people. Marlon and Brody occasionally attached themselves at the end, next to Louis and Violet, but that was on rare occasions. Usually they snuck off and made out in the bathrooms during lunch, which they seemed to have done today. Can't keep their hands off each other, Louis shrugged.

"Heard about what?" Ruby's voice smacked him back into reality. "I ain't heard nothing.

"Apparently Mrs. Hunt is quitting."
"What!" The table went into a general disbelief.

"Yeah. We're getting a new American history teacher."

"That sucks! I liked Mrs. Hunt!" Aasim proclaimed.

"Cause you kissed her ass." Louis joked.

"Shut up man!"

"Aasim is kinda right." Violet pointed out. "She was a good teacher, and I didn't fall asleep every day in her class."

"It's history." Louis deadpanned.

"So?" Violet shrugged as she absentmindedly stuck at the leaves on her plate.

"That sure does stink." Ruby acknowledged. Louis shrugged.

"Do we know who's replacing her?" Omar asked.

"Apparently some big time professor from UGA," Mitch answered.

"Shit. He's gonna be such a hardass, I can already feel it." Louis shook his head.

"Why would he leave a professor job to teach some high schoolers?" Aasim asked. "I would think colleges pay pretty well."

"Maybe he was looking for a change of scenery?" Violet curled her lip.

Louis planted his face in his hand. "Yeah, a sight of sleeping students, like me."

"I don't know much more than that," Mitch continued, ignoring Louis, "but that's what I overheard from Mrs. Hunt talking to the Vice Principal." Everyone collectively shook their heads in a slight, glum manor. Omar clicked his tongue.

"God, I hate this food." He shrugged. The table snickered, and they went back on talking.

The next day, Mrs. Hunt went on a twenty minute discussion on how she would be leaving and the big professor named Mr. Everett would be taking her place, tomorrow apparently. A new student would be joining them as well. Louis barely paid any attention; he knew most of this already. Instead, he drummed his fingers against the desk in the rhythm of his song.

Right after school on that day, he darted to a music room. He finished three bars of the allegro and felt pride surge through his chest. It was the last good feeling he would have that day, as he knew when he left, it would be back to his house, where his mom and dad wouldn't be waiting.