"So I really want to try out for the part of Logainne for the musical this semester, but then some of the other kids in my theatre class said that I don't have a confident enough vocal range to sing in front of a group of people and I really hate them all. None of them like me that much but I don't know why, I've been nothing but nice to them ever since I joined the class."
Nelthilta was rambling, as per usual. As Fiver had been leaving his classroom, Nelthilta had caught up with him, books clutched to her chest and fringe loose and bouncing from the bobby pins holding it back. Fiver was rather surprised at first – she normally went to Pipkin to complain – but soon relaxed and simply agreed mindlessly, only half-listening.
Fiver's locker swung open and Nelthilta stayed patiently by his side while he put his books into the locker. The blonde girl tipped her head to the side and blinked owlishly. "So what do you think I should do? Should I audition for Logainne?"
"Sure," Fiver shrugged. "Do you want the part?"
Nelthilta scoffed and rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Of course I do! But I can't help but think that they might be right."
Fiver watched the girl closely. He had never have guessed that Nelthilta was one to show insecurity of her obvious talent (she sang at the last school assembly and had the voice an angel). He offered her a small smile that she returned with a nervous grin. "You never know until you try, right?"
Her nerves disappeared instantly and she curled her fingers into her books. "Thanks Fiver. I'm not very good at ignoring what people say about me," She admitted softly, but then returned to her peppy self in a flash. "How do you like your new house in our suburb?"
Fiver closed his locker and leaned against the cold metal. "It's different. The house is a lot smaller than our old house. My sister is rooming with one of my brothers and she's not happy about it at all. Mum's making friends, at least I think she is. she's not yelling at the neighbours anymore, and she's smiling a lot more."
The blonde girl beside him hummed and nodded. They watched as people walked the halls at school. Neither said a word, but stayed in the comfortable silence. Fiver took in the details of the people walking around. Sandwort and his arrogance lingered through hall like a bad smell, and Fiver watched as he eventually cornered Nyreem, the pretty girl in his grade who almost dropped her crutches in surprise when Sandwort approached. Flyairth and her posse exited the bathroom. The older girl pursed her wine redlips and her distrusting eyes flicked to Sandwort and Nyreem. She made no comment, but smirked and brushed close to Nyreem as she passed. Nyreem fell forward with a yelp, landing on her face.
The pecking order of the school was so blatantly obvious that Fiver wondered why no one tried to fix the hierarchy so it accommodated everyone. He heard Nelthilta wince at Nyreem. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. "Poor thing," She breathed, but made no move to help her. Fiver rolled his eyes. That's what was wrong with the school.
"Fiver!"
An excited voice dragged both Nelthilta and Fiver away from Nyreem – now getting helped shakily to her feet by Violet – and they both stared and then flushed at the approaching Vilthuril. The girl's long auburn hair was pulled into her signature messy bun and she waved happily. Her brown and green stained clothing and her red face told Fiver she had just finished her P.E lesson.
Vilthuril slowed to a jog as she approached. She found Fiver absolutely adorable with his flushed cheeks, curls bouncing with every stiff movement he made in his embarrassment. Behind him was Nelthilta, a talkative little thing who had struck conversation with her on the bus. She waved her fingers at the other girl, who turned bright red and fumbled with the edge of her shirt.
Vilthuril leaned on the locker beside Fiver and giggled airily. "I just wanted to warn you that my mama wants to throw a 'welcome to the neighbourhood' party for your family. She's the party type," She gave Fiver a bright, beaming smile. "But my matka on the other hand – she really just wants to send your family a cake or something."
Fiver laughed. Vilthuril's heart picked up at the sound of his sweet laughter. "Who won the argument?" Fiver asked, almost teasing.
"Oh, it wasn't much of an argument. Matka has a soft spot for Mama's puppy dog eyes. There's going to be a party."
Nelthilta tipped her head and peered around Fiver's shoulder to look at Vilthuril. "Is it a normal party with balloons and streamers and stuff?"
"Yup!" Vilthuril nodded and brushed some of her long hair out of her face. "Everyone's invited. Clover, Bluebell and Holly are coming for definite. Hyzenthlay said she might be late because she has to pick up her cousin from the airport. I'm not sure about Dandelion and Blackberry. Nildro-hain and Strawberry said they'd come as well."
Vilthuril smiled at Nelthilta. "You live a few streets over, but Matka said you can as well."
Nelthilta perked up and nodded decisively. "I'll be there!"
Hoisting her satchel onto her shoulder securely, Vilthuril nodded. "Mama's going to invite your family today some time, so act surprised if your parents are excited or anything." She bit her lower lip, cheeks lighting up, and waved shyly to Fiver. "See you tomorrow night."
Both Fiver and Nelthilta waved after Vilthuril as she hurried to catch up with her friends. Fiver looked over his shoulder to the blonde girl and narrowed his eyes. "You like Vilthuril, don't you?"
She turned red, but snorted and lifted her chin. "Duh. She's really pretty and smart and everything. Why wouldn't you like her?" She closed her eyes and flashed him a broad grin, but then opened one eye to stare at him. "You like her too."
Fiver clenched his fists and nodded. Nelthilta patted his head. "Your secret is safe with me," She giggled and then poked his chest with her forefinger. "But I won't lose her to you."
…
Four trips to the university coffee store and more than $20 later, Hazel all but collapsed on the bus stop bench. Blackberry was on the opposite end of the bench, feet sitting in front of him, using his legs to balance his textbooks so they weren't sitting on the dirty bench. They were only borrowed, after all. His student debts were too high without the extra replacement fee.
Blackberry glanced up from his phone. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at Hazel's shaking hands, deep eyes questioning wordlessly. Hazel smiled sheepishly. "Too many coffees from my all-nighter at the campus library."
The other boy noticed the bags under Hazel's eyes as Hazel took his glasses off to wipe the lens. His glasses muted how dark it really was. Blackberry was beyond confused – marine biology didn't seem that difficult, especially compared to physics.
"Are you going home to sleep?"
Hazel gave a short, barking laugh and shook his head. "Of course not. It's only 11 am. There's no way I'm going to sleep at this time."
"Well I think it should be a consideration."
The bus rolled to a stop in front of the boys, and the driver waved sweetly as they stepped onto the vehicle. Blackberry gave a bright greeting, while Hazel waved in response and followed Blackberry as he bounced up the aisle. The bus was practically empty. Only a few people from the other route were present. Nobody they knew were seated anywhere. The midday run merged with line 305, so the commute was a little longer.
Blackberry collapsed onto the backseat where he always sat and Hazel sat next to him. Blackberry noticed, in amusement, how Hazel rested his forehead against the window and seemed to fall asleep in an instant. There was nothing stopping Blackberry from letting the poor guy sleep, but with a grin he decided that having someone to talk to was much more interesting than flicking through his Instagram feed. Just as soft, breathy snores were audible from Hazel's direction, Blackberry jabbed his finger in Hazel's side. The boy yelped and flinched – an untimely decision – as the bus slammed to a stop and Hazel fell forward and hit his nose against the seat in front of him.
"Ow," He whined, bringing a hand up and pressing it gingerly against his nose. He glared at Blackberry. "What was that for?"
"You can sleep when you get home – entertain me."
Blackberry shuffled over and laid himself across Hazel's lap, earning a scoff from the latter. "You shouldn't be sitting like that," He brought his hand away from his nose, pleased when he realised it wasn't bloody. Blackberry simply puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. Hazel laughed and began to toy with the thick curls that sat in every which direction.
Hazel's phone chimed a soft four-beat melody, and he pulled it from his pocket. A text message from his mother sat in front of his wallpaper – an image of himself and his siblings at the beach one hot summer. A rare moment where they were all at peace with each other captured on camera. He skimmed the message. "Huh. There's apparently some kind of welcoming party happening in our street?"
"Oh yeah," Blackberry nodded, moving to sit up, still half on Hazel's lap. "Me and Dand were invited to that. Dand has to work late."
"You know," Hazel began. "Dandelion hasn't told me what he actually does for a living. I know he writes, but what does he do to get money?"
Blackberry tapped his fingers against his thigh. "He works as a dental receptionist."
Hazel raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything against it. "Interesting. Do you want to go to the party?"
"Of course. We don't have to cook that way!"
The bus slowed and stopped, brakes hissing and door opening as another person stepped onto the bus. Blackberry looked confused. "The bus hardly stops at this place," He murmured, but Hazel's heart was beating too loud in his ears for him to hear.
This new person was big. Tall and built like a goddamned wall. His hair was dark, like Blackberry's, but lacked the curls and it instead fell over his forehead in wispy waves. There was the tiniest brush of stubble that traced his jawline, but Hazel could tell from the appearance that it was usually shaved. The part that seemed the most mesmerising to Hazel was his eyes. Deep brown, cold and icy, and glaring at everyone as he passed and walked up the aisle. Blackberry instinctively pressed closer to Hazel, gazing wide-eyed at the newcomer as he sat a seat away from them.
Blackberry slowly shuffled off Hazel's lap. Hazel rolled his eyes. "Are you scared of him or something?" He whispered in Blackberry's ear.
"Yes! He looks like he could mug me with both hands tied behind his back!" Blackberry responded just as softly.
Hazel looked upset at that comment. "You don't think that I could mug you?"
Blackberry laughed at that comment, causing Hot-stuff to look back with a mix of annoyance and confusion. Neither boy was paying attention. "Not with your noodle arms you couldn't," Blackberry snorted. Hazel frowned dejectedly. "You're no better off than me, you know."
"Hey," Hot-stuff snapped. Both boys flinched. "Can you two keep it down? I have a headache that I'd rather you not agitate."
Blackberry's eyes went wide and he nodded quickly, while Hazel just leaned forward a bit. "I have aspirin in my bag. Do you need some?" He asked, eager to converse. Hot-stuff contemplated this – likely wondering if he should take the medication from the stranger, but then remembered the 'noodle arm' comment (he looked to Hazel's arms with a tiny smile), agreed with it, and held out his hand. Hazel dug around in his bookbag and pulled out his box of aspirin, took two out, and dropped them into Hot-stuff's hand. The male muttered his thanks and swallowed them.
Blackberry now relaxed in his presence. "What's your name sir? What do you do? Do you go to university or anything? Where do you live?"
Hot-stuff blinked and looked to Hazel for help, who put his hand on Blackberry's shoulder and gently pushed him back to the seat. "Christ Blackberry, calm down."
Hot-stuff shifted in his seat. "The name's Thlayli. I work in a call centre."
As Hazel's eyes rounded and he excitedly asked "a call centre?!",Blackberry interjected with his own comment. "Thlayli? That's a strange name."
Thlayli tipped his head to the side and scowled. "Yeah? What's yours?"
"Blackberry!" He responded with bright enthusiasm. He pointed his thumb to his companion. "And this is Hazel."
Thlayli studied Hazel closely, and the boy made a quiet whining noise and hurriedly wiped his glasses to busy himself. Hopefully Thlayli would politely ignore his flushed cheeks. "Nice to meet you Hazel."
"Thlayli," Blackberry repeated, resting his chin in his palms. "Is that French?"
Thlayli shrugged. "Not sure. My mum's family is from Costa Rica, but I know for a fact it's not a Costa Rican name. The rest of my family come from practically everywhere, so nobody knows exactly where it's from. Even my abuela, who suggested my name, wasn't sure where it was from.
Hazel nodded. "That's interesting. Were you born in Costa Rica?"
"Yep. Moved here when I was four."
Blackberry pointed a finger at Thlayli. "Your name is cool man, but I'm going to give you a nickname!" He lifted his chin proudly. Hazel pouted. "How come I never got a nickname?" He complained. Blackberry waved him off. "Your name is too short."
Thlayli smirked at Hazel dejected frown. "So what's my nickname?"
Blackberry put a finger to his chin and hummed in thought, until his eyes lit up. "Bigwig!"
Thlayli – now apparently Bigwig – flushed at the name. "Bigwig?!" He spluttered. Hazel couldn't help but smile at the burst of colour in his face. "Why Bigwig?!"
"Your hair fluffs up at the front. It suits you!"
…
At promptly 4.30, Hazel and his family were ready to go visit their neighbours. His mother fussed over all their clothes. Fiver didn't make any move in disagreement as she straightened the jacket he had on, whereas Fern huffed and looked away, batting her hands from his hair. His mother pursed her lips, but moved onto Poppy. Her only daughter smiled at the affection and then promptly bristling when her mother rubbed at the makeup line that followed along with the curve of her jaw. She looked up to Hazel, lips pressed into a thin line. "Where's your brother?" She asked, tilting her head. Hazel shrugged. "Don't know. Can we leave soon?"
He met Fiver's gaze, smiling. Fiver nervously returned his smile as their mother began to play with the edge of Hazel's jacket. "I wish he'd hurry. We can't be late and let the neighbours think we don't want to be there."
Hazel gently took her hands in his. "I'll text him and tell him to hurry. I'll even give him the address. Go get dad and your coat and we'll leave."
His mother nodded, still wringing her hands together, and headed to her room to usher her husband out. Hazel turned to his siblings and clapped his hands together. "You guys have to be on your best behaviour tonight. Mum really wants to make a good impression."
Poppy rolled her eyes and tapped her fingernails (incredibly long fake ones, might he add) against her phone. She quickly began texting someone. "Tell that to Fern. He needs to stop arguing with everyone over every little thing he doesn't like."
Fern grumbled something and tugged his hand out of his hoodie pocket to swing his hand towards his sister. She stepped out of his range and poked her tongue out at him. Hazel rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Leave him alone Poppy."
Poppy shrugged and went back to texting. Fiver inched towards Hazel as Fern crossed his arms against his chest and stared venomously at Fiver. Hazel put a protective arm around his youngest brother, about to say something when his father hurried back into the main room. "Okay gang, time to head out!"
"Dad, gang got old by the time Fiver was eight," Hazel deadpanned. His father laughed. "I think it's sweet," His mother piped up, snuggling into her husband's side as they began to walk down the street towards the big white house with the lovely pink roses in the front yard. His father walked to the front door and knocked. A woman answered, with curly blonde hair and sparkly pink lips. "Hello there, you must be our new neighbours," Her voice was lifted with a lilting accent. She opened the door wide. "Come in, come in. Everybody is out on the back patio."
Hazel and Fiver took the lead, Hazel curiously raising an eyebrow as Fiver took in a deep breath. Fiver bit his lip and flushed deeply. "I thought Vilthuril's smell was a perfume, but it's just what her house smells like," He muttered, earning a laugh from his brother. They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Music was blasting from the backyard, fairy lights tinted the backyard in a yellowish hue. Fiver found Nelthilta and Pipkin conversing in a corner, followed by Vilthuril who approached them and joined in on their conversation. Fiver felt someone ruffle his hair, and looked up to see Hazel. "Go talk to your friends," He pushed his little brother in their direction.
Nelthilta was the first one to see Fiver approach, bouncing on her heels and waving exuberantly. "Hi Fiver!" She squealed. He joined the group with a shy greeting. Pipkin and Vilthuril both gave their hellos before it fell silent again. "You have a nice house," Fiver eventually said for the sake of conversation, glancing up to Vilthuril, who's lips were pursed and cheeks dusted with pink. Fiver caught Nelthilta's jealous stare.
Hazel, however, was enjoying meeting the other people in the street. Strawberry, the quiet, timid young man and his equally as soft-spoken fiancée Nildro-hain were the first that he met. The woman was tall and thin, with murky brown eyes and tight lips, in comparison to Strawberry's short and chubby build with a mess of orange hair and mossy green eyes.
"So," Hazel asked, glassing pushed up his nose and eyes darting between the couple. "What do you two do?"
Nildro-hain, surprisingly, was the first to answer. "Strawberry works at the Farm Fresh Market. I'm a poet."
Hazel almost wished she continued to talk – her voice was high and airy, melodic, and knew he could fall asleep to the sound of her voice. Strawberry, fiddling with his fingers, looked to his fiancée. "Nildro-hain is also an artist," He offered sweetly. His voice contrasted Nildro-hain's; scratchy, like someone after losing their voice. But somehow they were perfect for each other.
"An artist?" He glanced to the woman and tilted his head. "Really?"
She shuffled her feet uncomfortably, but nodded. "We've been using my commission money to buy our food. We don't have a lot of money."
What she failed to tell him was that their groceries were bought from the money she made selling paintings of dogs doing mundane human tasks, like driving to work or mowing the lawn. It looked better if people thought she was more of a Van Gogh artist.
Clover, Bluebell and Holly came soon after that small conversation Hazel sat through with Strawberry and Nildro-hain. The peppy woman from the bus bustled up to him, all smiles and laughter, and shook his hand rapidly. "Hazel! So good to see you!" Clover beamed at him. Hazel smiled in response and looked around her to the two men. One had his arms across his chest, and the aura he held could scare anyone away. The other gave off a more cheerful vibe. "And who is this?" Hazel raised a quizzical eyebrow. Clover grabbed one of their hands in each of hers.
"My husbands Holly and Bluebell!" She giggled. Holly cracked a small smile at her exuberance, while Bluebell, who had been smiling already, grew more chipper at her words. Hazel laughed and held out a hand to the men. "As you could already guess, I'm Hazel. My family just moved in."
"Clover told us about you, didn't you dear?" Bluebell shook Hazel's hand and then pulled Clover into his chest in a side-hug. She laughed sheepishly. "I got a little bit excited," She admitted. Holly shook Hazel's hand as well, with no words spoken. Hazel winced, but didn't pressure him.
They all returned home at 9.30.
…
a/n: sorry for the late chapter. a lot of stuff has been going on, from shoddy mental health to my laptop breaking to the fact that hey im in year 12 now! one more year of school! anyway, sorry again. the main story will start next chapter – this was another introduction. all i have to introduce properly now is hyz, campion and Blackavar :D
