POV - Neon

When Whitley offered to take us all out to dinner I was ecstatic, I had never been to any of the luxury restaurants in Atlas, or any really.

"Having trouble Neon," Whitley asked me.

But if I had been told just how sophisticated this restaurant was, I would have done some research first.

"There's just so many options, and those options have options," I answered. Gods I felt out of place, it didn't help that I could feel so many eyes on me.

'That's not what I'm talking about," Whitley said, "You seem bothered, what's wrong?"

'He really knows how to read people doesn't he'

"I can feel people staring at me," I said.

Ilia looked at me with a concerned but calm look on her face. I know she could feel it too, I know she was being stared at and well, "Not used to it," Ilia asked, seemingly unbothered by the uninvited looks.

That shocked me, did she not care, was she used to it, "No, no I'm really not," I answered.

Whitley looked around the room, scanning it even, he was looking for someone. Suddenly he stopped and motioned for someone to come over to us. As I looked at who he motioned for I noticed our waiter making his way over to the table.

"Is something wrong sir," the waiter asked politely.

Whitley stood up and whispered something in the man's ear. With all the noises around me I couldn't quite make out what he told him, but judging by the wide eyed response from the waiter it had to be something serious.

"Right away sir," the waiter said before rushing off.

"What was that about," I asked.

Whitley said nothing, but as I looked to Ilia to see if she heard anything I saw that she had a massive grin spread across her face.

"What did you say," I asked.

"Just wait," Whitley said.

"If I had to guess it has something to do with what I'm going to call Schnee Privilege," Flynt said.

I looked to the door that the waiter had rushed into and saw who I assumed was the manager or maybe the owner coming rushing out. He scanned the restaurant before his eyes landed on our table. He took a second to regain his composure and walked over to our table.

"Hello Mister Schnee, what can I do for you," he asked.

"No need to be so formal Ram, I didn't choose to come here to be treated like my father likes to be treated," Whitley said.

"What's the matter Whitley," Ram asked with a far calmer tone.

"Be subtle and look around the room," Whitley said.

He did what Whitley said and subtly looked around the room.

"What's the matter with what you see," Whitley asked.

"They seem to have a great deal of interest in your company," Ram said.

"Yes and it is making my company uncomfortable, is there anything that can be done about this," Whitley asked.

Ram said nothing in return, seemingly lost in thought.

"Yes, follow me please," Ram answered.

Whitley stood up and grabbed his jacket from the hanger before turning to look at the three of us, "Are you three waiting for an invitation," he said before following Ram.

I was the first out of the booth with Flynt and Ilia close behind, I practically ripped my coat off the hanger before taking a few quick steps to be next to Whitley. My nerves were getting the best of me.

"If they try anything I promise they will regret it," Whitley said, trying his best to reassure me.

"How, you can't just slug them in the jaw," I asked.

Whitley hooked my arm with his own and pulled me closer. My mind calmed quickly at his touch but my heart did the opposite. He leaned his head close, "Says who," he whispered into my ear.

I saw a few of those rich snobs sneer at his action, but Whitley paid them no mind.

I looked up at Whitley's face and saw that he was calm, seemingly used to being sneered at, "You know the owner," I asked, trying to take my mind off the looks.

"Yup, Ram is a great chef, and a great person which makes him all the better," he answered.

"Really now, what makes him such a great person," I asked.

"He knows how to treat people right," he answered with a smile.

"That's nice," I said.

We were led to the same doors the Ram came out of which brought us into the kitchen. He walked us over to a nice booth in the corner before sitting us down.

"Seriously Whitley," Flynt commented.

"What," Whitley asked.

"You got us a table in the kitchen," Flynt said as he slid into the booth.

"Hey, I didn't ask him to put us back here, this was Ram's idea," Whitley said.

"Don't complain too much, this is nice," Ilia said as she took her seat next to Flynt, "When was the last time you got to watch your food being cooked like this?"

"Alright alright, this just feels extra is all," Flynt said.

We were given another set of menus to look at by Ram. Whitley closed his and put it down before looking at me, "Would you like some help," he asked.

I sighed in defeat before turning to him and nodding my head in shame. Whitley scooted closer to me, "Here, let's look at what you think sounds good," he said. I looked over the menu one more time with the same result.

"I know it's hard to choose without knowing what they look like, but just pick by the name, if that doesn't work just read what meat is in each meal " Whitley said.

I rescanned the menu and saw some meals that sounded good and incorporated meats that I liked. I pointed to them and asked him to tell me more about the foods which he did without taking a breath. The way he described the foods was so much easier to understand then just reading the menu, with how well he described the foods I could practically see the dishes in front of me. He told me about a dish called seared tails.

"That sounds good," I said.

"Good to know, now we wait," Whitley said.

I watched as Ram and some other cooks worked like bees cooking up not just our food, but the food for all those assholes out there. I watched as Ram suddenly started to look around his station trying to find something. I watched his face turn red as a vein on his forehead popped out.

"Where's the lamb sauce," Ram yelled across the kitchen.

"Here chef," a female cook said as she handed him what I assumed was the lamb sauce.

"Bunch of fuking donkeys," Ram yelled, "Do better!"

I laughed into my hand at his choice of words. "So who is this guy," I asked Whitley, curious to learn more about Ram.

"That would be Ram Gord, one of the best chefs on the face of Remnant," Whitley answered.

"Wait, you brought us to one of Chef Gord's restaurants," Ilia asked.

"What does it look like," Ram asked as he placed down a plate of shrimp and assorted dips.

"It looks like Whitley's idea of treating us to dinner was way more expensive than any of us were expecting," Ilia answered.

"He's a Schnee, his paps shit money can pay for anything," Ram said looking at Whitley, "But Whitley's and good kid, and his mom's a friend."

"So that's why you brought us back here," I said.

"Yes," Ram said before he returned to cooking.

[Yes I'm using Gordon Ramsey because it's funny]

(Time Skip to next morning brought to you in part by Flynt's Instruments, find all the best instruments at Flynt's Instruments)

Last night was amazing, but as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. I awoke the next morning to somebody pulling the sheets off my body. I cracked my eyes open to try and glare at the person responsible, but instead of a sorry I was treated to the kind smile of Whitley, "Morning Neon, I figured you'd like to have the shower before the other two wake up," he whispered.

"Thanks," I said before slowly pushing myself out of bed.

Whitley walked over to our closet and opened the door. He leaned in and pulled out our team's shared laundry basket, "I'm gonna take care of this, when I get back would you like to grab breakfast," he asked.

"Sounds good, and thanks for taking care of that," I answered.

He picked up the basket and walked out of the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.

'Why are you so normal Whitley? What happened to rich boys being snobs and shit like that'

I pulled myself out of bed and scuttled over to the bathroom. I shut the door before flicking on the lights. I glanced into the mirror and saw the same sight that had greeted me yesterday morning, mad bed head. 'This shit is going to be the death of me I swear'. I pulled the sliding glass door of the bathtub open before turning the water on. I had long been accustomed to cold showers but decided to treat myself to a nice warm shower, sure I was going to be a little more tired till class but that was fine.

I pulled off my pajamas and slid into the shower a little too soon. My back was assaulted by cold water that made me go ridged immediately. "Fuck," I squeaked trying my best to stay quiet. I was wide awake now and decided that I would just deal with it. Turning around I turned the knob to cold and began letting the assaulting water cascade down my face and chest. 'Muscle memory I guess'. I turned once more and let the cold water wet my hair. I grabbed a lock of my hair and gave it a good look, 'You are really bright aren't you'.

I pulled the rest of my hair over my shoulder before grabbing my shampoo and putting a good amount into my head.

[I'm really writing this… yup need to get a longer chapter out anyway]

I ran my fingers through my hair pulling out more knots then I'd like to admit trying to get it done as fast as possible. I let my head fall back and let the water hit the front of my head before slowly lifting my head back up to keep any suds from getting in my eyes. 'Why did I ever decide these were a good thing for me to do'. I hated every part of cold showers but I couldn't deny the benefits that taking them had. I finished my hair in a timely fashion before getting to work on the rest of my body which was far easier. I was finished and out of the shower in less than twenty minutes and had a towel wrapped around my shivering form and cold damp hair. I snatched my hair dryer out from my designated drawer and plug the machine in. If there was anything I hated about myself it had to be my hair, this shit was a nightmare and a half, but if I wanted to look good I would just have to suffer.

That's when I noticed a very worrying thing, I had forgot my clothes. "Shit," I mumbled, "Hey Whitley, you out there?"

"Something wrong Neon," he asked.

"Yeah, I forgot to grab my clothes," I answered.

"Where are they," he asked.

"There on my bedside table," I answered.

I heard some shuffling through the door before I heard the doorknob giggle. I reached over and unlocked the door. The door was slowly cracked open before I saw my uniform being pushed through the opening and put on the counter. "Thanks Whitley," I said.

"It was nothing," he said before closing the door.

I finished my hair and got to work putting it into my usual style. I slipped into my uniform before turning off the lights and opening the door.

"Thanks again," I told him again.

"You're welcome," he said from his bed. I looked over at him and saw his face and hands illuminated by the soft glow of his scroll, he was reading something that I couldn't quite make out.

He jumped out of bed and pocketed his scroll. "Whatcha reading," I asked.

"Just some unread messages to waste time," he answered. He stepped out into the dimly lit hall and held the door for me. I stepped out before he closed the door behind me.

"Who from," I asked not really bothering to wish per but still keeping my voice down.

"Felix asking me about my first day," he answered.

"And," I asked.

"I told him that it was good, and that I had to tell you more about my time in the mountains at some point," he answered.

We walked in comfortable silence for some time before I got a little bored. "Do you think all the Academy's have there halls dim in the morning," I asked.

"Probably; with all these spoiled kids, I have no doubt. I don't mind it though, reminds me of the soft glow the mountains would get in the early hours do to the setting moon and rising sun," he answered seemingly lost in his memory of what most would want to forget.

"You really miss the mountains," I commented.

"Somehow it was better than all of this," he told me, "One day I'm gonna leave all of this behind and go back to that little town and just stay there. I'll be the next hunter to settle down when she passes."

"What was her name," I asked wondering who this clearly talented huntress was.

"Blanc," he answered.

"I've never heard of her," I said. It didn't make sense though, from what I could tell not all of those scars that riddled his body were from Grimm, some were clearly from blades and guns which worried me a little. What had that woman put Whitley through for him to be so scarred? "What was she like?"

"Kind but strict, and not the bad kind of strict either. She was the kind of strict that made me into the fighter I am today," he answered. He wasn't all there when he answered, seemingly lost in thought trying to come up with an answer.

"But you also said she was kind as well," I said, trying to understand this woman more.

"Of course, she taught me many things that weren't related to fighting like cooking and how to iron a shirt, when the hell am I ever going to need to iron my own clothes, I'm a Schnee for Oum sake," he said.

I giggled, he was right after all, he was never going to have to iron his own shirt. We had arrived at the cafeteria and entered, I immediately noticed the few kids sitting sporadically throughout the large cafeteria. The cafeteria was brighter than the hall, but not by much.

"Let's get our food and find a seat, I have a feeling Flynt and Ilia wont be too far behind us, at least 45 minutes behind," he said before he started to make his way toward the kitchen. Breakfast here surprisingly wasn't the worst, better than the shit they gave me at the last place, granted this stuff is high class compared to the prison food I used to get. 'That's Atlas for ya I guess'.

"Good morning," he said, trying to be pleasant.

"Good morning to you as well, what would you like to eat," the sweet old lunch lady asked me.

"Can I get some toast, scrabbled eggs, and Valean bacon along with a cup of milk please," he asked politely.

"Oh absolutely that's very easy," the lunch lady said.

"I like my breakfast simple, nothing too heavy that might make me feel sluggish like the greasy stuff that makes my gut do flips in the morning," he said making small talk as the lunch lady put his breakfast together.

"Some of these kids only want grease, it amazes me," the lunch lady said. It took barely a minute for her to whip Whitley's quant little breakfast together for him. She put it on a plate and handed put it in the stainless steel counter before turning on her heels and opening a small fridge with an assortment of breakfast drinks in it. She pulled out the milk and poured it into a medium metal cup which she placed next to his plate. "There you go young man, have a good day."

"Thanks you too," Whitley said before gabbing his breakfast and stepping to the side.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning, what will you be having his morning," she asked me.

"Uh… can I just have what he got please," I asked.

"Sure thing," she said.

Like clockwork in a minute I was looking at my breakfast. "Thank you," I said before stepping next to Whitley.

"Have a good day you two," the lunch lady said.

"We will," Whitley said.

"She's nice," I said, hoping that I'd see her often.

"Agreed," he said as he took us to an empty table. He set his food down before taking a seat. I sat down next to him and began to eat my food. It was simple but tasty even though it didn't have much flavor.

"If you're gonna eat the same thing as me you should do it properly," Whitley said before he used his fork to put the six slices of Valean bacon on one of the pieces of toast. He then put the eggs on top of the slices followed by the last piece of toast. "And tada it's a breakfast sandwich."

"That's… actually pretty smart," I commented before following along and creating my own breakfast sandwich. It tasted a little less bland with the Valean bacon adding the flavor to the unseasoned eggs. "I'll have to ask with they have pepper for the eggs next time."

"I don't really like pepper on my eggs," he said, "But to each their own."

We eat quietly and quickly trying to get back to our dorm before more people showed up. Whitley finished his sandwich and milk long before me but patiently waited for me to finish instead of just going back to the dorm. I finally finished my breakfast as I noticed the hall lights brighten. Whitley grabbed my plate and cup and walked our dishes to the kitchen to be cleaned. We walked out of the halls when I reached into my pocket and checked my scroll for the first time that morning and noticed that I had a message from my mom.

Hey kitten, I hope everything is as good over there as you hoped. Who's on your team, did you and Flynt manage to get on the same team? Are they treating you right? I love you and miss you already, call me soon.

"Something wrong," Whitley asked.

"Nope, just my mom checking on me," I answered.

"I should check on my mom," he said before he fished his scroll out of his pocket.

"How is Mrs. Schnee," I asked.

"Clawing her way out of alcoholism," he answered.

"Good for her," I said.

"Yeah," he said as he started writing what I could only assume was a text to his mom. I tried shoulder hustling him but failed miserably. He finished his messaged and slipped his scroll back into his pocket.

"Gods I'm not excited for this first class," I said trying to fill in the silence.

"Why not, I mean after awhile it might feel a little lackluster but this first day can't be that bad," he said.

"But still team bonding isn't exactly something that should be forced in my opinion. A team should naturally over time come together into a sort of family," I said defending my statement.

"I didn't say it was necessary, I'm gonna guess it's mostlikly a class where we talk to each other a whole lot," he said as we turned the hall leading us to our dorm.

"But like why not just have a more productive class instead," I asked.

"I don't know," he answered before he unlocked our dorm with his scroll and pulled it open for me.

"Thanks," I said as I strolled into our dorm. I tried to be as quiet as possible but failed as I bumped into the desk next to our door. "Shit," I squeaked. I looked over and saw Flynt look up.

"You ok," Flynt asked.

"Yeah, didn't really feel food though," I answered. Whitley walked in behind me before activating his semblance and floating up into his bed.

"Where were you two," he asked as he pulled himself out of bed.

"We were getting breakfast," I answered.

"Nice, what was there," Flynt asked.

"It's a continental breakfast every day except for friday," Whitley answered for me.

"Wait really," I asked surprised that we were actually going to have some decent options almost everyday.

"Yup," Whitley said.

"That's not bad at all," Flynt said as he walked over to the closet to grab his uniform.

"Can you three quiet down," Ilia mumbled from under her blanket mound. How does she sleep like that, it's probably an oven under there.

"Sure but you should be waking up here soon anyway," Flynt said before he walked into the bathroom.

"Heh water closet," Whitley said from his bed.

"What about a water closet," I asked, confused as to why he suddenly said that.

"When you translate old Atlasian to new Atlasian, the word for a bathroom would be water closet, well not water closet but that's the translation," he clarified.

"Oh," I said.

"A restroom and a bathroom were two completely different things back then, we just combined the two," he added.

"Neat," I said before I flicked on the table lamp.

"Mmmmmm," Ilia complained from under her blankets.

"You heard what he said Ilia," I said.

"Doesn't mean I want to deal with lights," she said before emerging from under her blankets.

"How the hell do you sleep like that," I asked.

"Menagerie is a very hot place, Atlas is not," she answered.

"That makes sense," I said before I started working on the essay for dust study. I hadn't started it yet and figured it would be best to get it started.