Chapter 1: The Library Was Best Fit For Someone Who Wanted Peace.

  For some reason, I've never had much interest in "trying". Many people treat life like a ladder, but I see it as a minefield waiting to be detonated. Knowing that I'll have to walk around each landmine to avoid one explosion isn't worth the effort. The world has a persistent habit of trying to reach out to me, but the beige headphones I wear on the daily counters that perfectly.

  Apathy is like a safety net, it prevents any bad that comes my way. Some people don't like the way I think, but if you think about it... I'll never do anything terrible, no one has to worry about me and I don't have to worry about anyone. See? It's not so bad, that's the gray life that makes smooth sailing worth it.

  I navigated the maroon hallways, looking at club posters and motivational phrases on the walls as I adjusted my beige headphones to fit around my head better. it was the ultimate way to stay inside a world of my own.

  The sheer volume of students seem to be a lot higher in this hallway, with some looking through lockers and others conversing. It's almost like we really aren't in some high-funded dome with a dormitory, and these social interactions were actual illusions to convince everyone that we're all normal. As horrible as it was, this was how high-school life was for me.

  Aethelgard International Academy.

  That's the school I attend, at the moment. There's not much to do here other than head out to the on-campus outlet mall, take walks in nature, and have fun working on studies. The first one is only if you have friends though.

  I continued down the hallway, looking outside at the courtyard. A bird was resting at the top of the fountain, and it made me wish that I could just become a bird myself.

  The walk was relatively calm. I was heading to the cafeteria early today, so I should be there before the bell rings. until I heard a few screams cutting through my headphones to the left. I turned to the source to see bodies colliding, papers flying, and people walking around the mess altogether.

  "I'm so sorry!"

  "It's alright, let me help you."

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. While everyone is focused on the scene, I'm a lot more focused on the people who refuse to help.

  ...

  Heh, I happen to fit that category of people. I'm going to ignore those guys.

  Cliques form and social circles gather daily. With my headphones, it makes those activities impossible for me to achieve. The world work harder to reach me, ensuring my average persona was fully engaged. The greatest way to avoid plot is to become one with the background.

  I mentioned dormitories on campus earlier, it's honestly sad that I have to mention it this early. It's mandatory all students may occupy at least one. No real excuse for going home, because Aethelgard is our new home.

  If you're also wondering about the potential downsides to the outlet mall I had also mentioned, we also have an on-campus outdoor mall, which practically functions as all the basic necessities required for basic living. I often wonder how much this school is funded, it's almost flawed in a way.

  Enough talking, I'm still 80% of the way to the cafeteria, mostly because I am facing obstacles such as slow walkers and static friend groups. This would be a lot easier if there were a second cafeteria, but it doesn't really matter. The cafeteria in itself is already gargantuan.

  Just before I could reach the food court, the bell rang. The sound waves piercing through my headphones as the intercom follows up with it's traditional pre-recorded; '7:30, head to Breakfast for your first meal of the day'.

  I guess you could compare this moment to how you might wake up a minute or two before your alarm goes off.

  As I weaved through a final batch of students, I finally got through the crowd unscathed. My schoolbag was still intact, so it's a victory.

  I entered the cafeteria as the aroma of hot food overwhelmed my nostrils, I could smell a mix of all sorts of foods.

  Grease is the strongest smell of the bunch, that's for sure.

  You'd think it would smell bad, but it's the opposite. Actually it isn't really the opposite, either. It's a strange smell.

  Tons of students were flowing through lines—actually, flowing isn't a good word. Those lines will probably take the entirety of breakfast period.

  The once perfectly aligned tables seemed to become less perfect as the students either occasionally bumped into the tables, moved the table itself as they sat down or even combined tables. Eating outside of the cafeteria seems like the most easy option.

  This amount of people seemed to be enough to drown out the music I'm listening to. What a pain.

  There really shouldn't be this much students around here, is everyone just on this side of the campus or something? I'm sure many people skip breakfast, so overall I'd give the breakfast to student ratio a 1:10.

  I walked further into the chaos, until I caught myself looking at a taller student. He seems to be navigating the mess along with me. It's almost like he's stepping over every little human being.

  "Hey! Come sit over here, Ajax!" says a male student.

  As I was still focused on this particularly tall student. He just so happened to be the person that male student is calling out to.

  "Huh? Oh, sure.." responds the guy named Ajax, reluctantly.

  I glanced over. Ajax and his circle occupied a central table. "The Perfect Ten" as they all say. Those ten were the suns of this social solar system, and everyone else was just orbiting them.

  I felt the weight of effort just looking at them. I couldn't imagine the agonizing cost of being that popular.

  I was going to turn around, but then I caught myself almost bumping into a few students walking past me. The steam coming from their food slapped me in the face as they followed each other like a train.

  That was close... I'm gonna have to get some food, but I don't even care what I eat. I just need to pick the shortest line.

  As I looked to my left, I watched a few students jumble up in the line for eggs and bacon. I looked around to check every other line and count every single person.

  I averted my eyes back at the eggs line, which turned out to be the least packed out of every single food stand. I drowned out the talking noises and began my pursuit to this "short line".

  This will take a little bit, but it's the bit that's worth it. Does that make sense? No.

  Some more students gathered up behind me, one of them stepped on the back of my shoe as we walked forward awaiting our turn. A student in front of me decided to bail, and I filled that spot as if he never existed.

  The wait for this line is actually bearable compared to the other food lines. There are only about five people in front of me compared to the monstrous twenties on almost every other line. That's like four times the people for each one.

  Two minutes passed, and I was finally in front of the food stand. The lunch lady scooped the eggs, used the tongs to grab the bacon, plopped it onto my plate, and then placed the full plate on the food tray.

  I grabbed the tray and looked at the lunch lady. She didn't say "Thank you" or make eye contact with me. She just immediately began the next scooping routine like it was her top priority. Not saying it isn't, though.

  You're working fast out here, lunch lady. If only you were handling the other food stands.

  I chose a corner table, staring at my eggs to avoid eye contact. In this school, making eye contact is more devastating than a heartbreak.

  I finished up in about six minutes, because I'm not trying to stay here any longer. That would just eventually lead to overstimulation.

  I got up from my table, placed the food tray on the rack and then navigated through the tight spaces. It was slightly less crowded than before. I checked the clock on the wall which read "7:50", so I guess time seems to be a factor.

  I heard a few clatters of trays bundling up behind me, so I looked back to see students already take the corner table I had once eaten on. Life seems to move the same way, always filling in the gaps of people who used to exist.

  I exited the cafeteria with relative ease, my surroundings were now filled with students heading to class. I'm not ready to head to class, but if I were to head to the library right now I'd be late.

  I headed for the library anyway, it seemed like it was the one place that was inevitably waiting for me. It was like the library normalized silence, making small talk look like an awkward suggestion. I wouldn't mind a few exchanges — but it was all so tiring to me. If my social battery was real, I'd be at zero percent.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  As I walked through the same boring marroon hallways, I blended in with the crowd. There was a lot of things going on, and if you could easily infer that I was going to class as well.

  The traffic seemed to slow, so I'm not even sure if I could make it to the library at this point. I'm going to be stripped away from all of the opportunities for morning naps.

  The library is a lost cause with the amount of time I've lost. I'll just head to my first class, that's annoying.

  My class is still roughly within this direction, luckily before I knew it the student crowd died down a little as people entered their homerooms.

  I neared the classroom as it awaited my presence, almost telling me not to be tardy. As I got closer, a nearby poster seemed to be hanging slightly crooked. Without thought, I reached out to the poster to level it, but I caught myself in the act and shoved my hands into my pockets.

  I'll just let it be someone else's problem.

  I entered the classroom, there were a few students talking with each other outside of their assigned seats, and a few were sitting alone. The room was filled with the warm sunlight beaming through the windows. The fluorescent lights in this class were almost never on, because my professor preferred the natural light. That's the only thing I liked about this class.

  The class layout was a bit strange, it's like the stairs correlated with the desk elevation. It's like a lecture hall but smaller, another feature that tried copying the world of college. This is supposed to be a prestigious high-school, though. I shouldn't be that surprised.

  As I approached my seat, I placed my schoolbag on the floor and sat down in my chair. I looked out at the view from the window, it seemed to be like a separation between me and happiness. Though, a description like that is a bit of an exaggeration. I turned back to my desk, before resting my head against the polished wood.

  As I closed my eyes, waiting for the world to fade away. I began to involuntarily eavesdrop. In this case, the girls who are discussing are basically the focal point of all sounds in this class.

  "Hey, don't you have a crush on that one tall white-haired guy? I think his name was... Carter?"

  "Isn't he like in the eleventh grade or something?"

  "We're still freshman! Why are you hitting on someone so old?"

  The laughter arose which began flooding my mind as if it were a genuine pipe leak. It was like the emotions were filling up the container until it overflowed.

  Those laughters were soon replaced by the sound of an intense writing session from a student behind me. It's almost like I'm going through the five stages of grief but in the form of my environment.

  There's nothing that causes people to write so loudly.

  I hear the footsteps of more students entering the classroom, the sudden abundance of people created a shift in the air pressure. The breeze hit me, and I began to shiver for a second. The sound of bags being laid down and chairs moving against the floor became the apex predator of all noises in the class. I opened my eyes to see a female student standing in front of me.

  "Excuse me?" the female student asks, in a quiet manner.

  Without looking straight at her face, I scooted forward. The only downside to scooting forward was that I was giving up rest time. It's still kind of annoying that I didn't get the window seat. A wish common among any teenager whether they'd be my age or older.

  As the students began to settle in, the talking just became a lot louder than before. Even the girl next to me had friends of her own that were near her seat.

  I heard the door close, a few footsteps, and then the bell rang. Our professor had started his speech of the day, and I couldn't care less about any of the force-fed stories that were being told. At some point, I couldn't differentiate between any of my classes.

  The classes in the midst of the day were incredible. Incredible at distorting my sense of time. I don't even remember if I even attended those classes.

  In a blur, I just happened to appear in my last class for today.

  I'm currently sitting in the infamous History class, and it may not seem so bad at first until you realize how trivial it is.

  Mathematics is at least predictable with the formulas; History is just a mess of dates and names which have no value to me, as most of the work is pure memorization.

  ?I started pen-spinning, a habit I’d perfected to keep my hands busy while my brain was in rest mode. Around me, the room felt heavy with the boredom of forty other teenagers. I almost felt bad for the professor—he was teaching with genuine passion, and I was treating his lecture like white noise.

  At the front of the room, the door swung open. A female student rushes in, panting, a tardy pass in hand.

  "Professor! Sorry, I'm late!" says the female student.

  "Late? You might as well have never shown up!" the professor said, as he looked up from the notes. "You could've gotten away with not having to hear my lecture!"

  The girl—the one that sits to my right—scrambled to her seat. I watched her from the corner of my eye as I just sat there, glad I didn't have to scoot my seat in like earlier.

  Clack!

  My pencil hit the floor mid-spin, rolling toward the shoe of the only person that fit the job of returning it—the girl who sat next to me.

  This is absolutely embarrassing. Why did I stop focusing on my pencil?

  This is the moment where I should be mocking the gods of writing—telling them to stop forcing me into a situation where I have to talk to someone.

  She's walking over here...

  "Here you go!" the female student exclaims, a polite smile that could kill, handing me my pencil that had fallen on the floor.

  "O-oh... thanks.." I muttered, avoiding eye contact altogether.

  I snatched the pencil at unnatural speeds, making the interaction even more messy. I would think that being faster was better, but nothing could save me the embarrassment now.

  She acknowledged my awkward behavior and softly giggled. If I were truly delusional I would've guessed that I won her heart over.

  The girl plopped her stuff down and pulled her seat out. Sitting in it as if she were never late in the first place. It was incredibly seamless.

  I turned to face my notes, staring at it as my professor went on and on about something that happened 2000 years ago. That's the rough summary I made using the power of two braincells that refused to work.

  The professor had kept going with the notes despite the last bell. I could hear everyone around me getting up from their chairs. I'm not even surprised that he lost track of time, because he does it almost every single day.

  The intercom interrupted the bell to announce the talent show was going to be underway at around 5-6 pm tonight.

  For most, the talent show was a ticket to freedom. For me, it was the best opportunity to have the library all to myself.

  Students were buzzing all for the talent show, with some asking if their friends would show up and others talking about how they were going to perform. It was almost like the relevancy of the talent show skyrocketed even more since the day it was announced.

  A few of my classmates were still hanging around in the classroom, talking with each other about the one thing everyone's hyped about. I saw it as my cue to leave, there's no point on straining if the water is gone.

  I picked up my schoolbag and wrapped it over my shoulder. I looked around at the scattered chairs, which caused me to impulsively push my chair into the table.

  I need to be the outlier here in this class.

  I walked to the exit of the classroom, looking around the hallway. To my surprise the amount of students were relatively low, so I was able to enter traffic easily and make my way to the library.

  As I walked, I wanted to savor this moment. Walking through the hallways without a worry in the world, well—at least without a worry of bumping into anyone, that is.

  I got closer to my destination, seeing that a few people had the same idea as me. I didn't really care, just as long as no one bothered me.

  I stepped into the library, the environment consumed me as I felt the atmosphere go from chaotic to peaceful in mere seconds. The smell of old books began to fill my nose as I walked toward the table of the dim corner.

  While I took my seat—I began to observe the people around me—just so that I could get a better look at my surroundings. There was only one guy compared to the three girls.

  One girl was studying intensely, her brow furrowed, while she lost herself in the writing.

  She just so happens to be someone I know of, her name is Alizee. She's on the student council and she has quite the reputation of being the "short devil".

  The peace was being systematically dismantled by a guy three tables over who was snoring louder than your average joe. He was a walking red flag—white hair, piercings, the "Delinquent" archetype.

  With every passing second, I saw Alizee grip her pencil even harder. It was almost like his snores were fuel to the beast. Mind you, this beast is nearly impossible to tame or contain.

  Snap!

  I hear the sound of the pencil breaking in half as it hits the wooden table.

  The girl's temple began to throb, veins popping out as she kept glancing at the delinquent. It looks like she isn't really in the mood anymore, so she finally snaps.

  "Hey!" yells a female student, getting up aggressively. "Wake up right now and snore somewhere else!"

  She pushed her table forward—causing the brittle legs to wobble—and began to walk toward the delinquent with her infamous earth shattering steps. Her short stature is nothing to overlook.

  The delinquent stirred, blinking lazily as he smacked his lips. "Hmm..? Oh, it's you. Don't you think you should be an annoying nuisance somewhere else?"

  While he stretched in his chair as he put it back on all fours, he looked at her as they're both on the same eye-level despite being the one sitting down.

  That's how short Alizee is, huh. Or is the guy just really tall?

  My thoughts were instantly pulverized as Alizee stomped on the ground, beginning the speak once more.

  "My job is to let people know when they're being a nuisance, not yours!"

  "Well, then I’ll make up a job, too," he replied, stretching. "Mine is letting people know when they're being annoying. You’re hired."

  The girl’s face became redder than ever, and a second later, the crack of a slap echoed throughout the whole school. That's an exaggeration.

  The silence that followed after the slap was... eerie, to say the very least. It killed every other sound in the room.

  I sighed, turning the volume on my headphones to max. I just wanted my nap.

  ?I didn't get it.

  ?A tap on my shoulder broke the illusion of dreaming. I pulled my headphones down, expecting the librarian to tell me "We're closing up" or something. I'm not even sure if the library even truly closes anyway. Instead, I found Ophelia Clawthorn—the Student Council President—staring at me with an expectant, "perfect" grin.

  ?"Hey, Zeke?"

  ?"Yeah... what?"

  ?"Perfect! You’re on the Council, right?" She gestured to the girl standing behind her—a foreign exchange student who looked like she’d die of shyness. "I’m performing in the talent show, so I need you to give her the campus tour. You know the layout better than anyone, anyway!"

  ?She didn't wait for an answer. She just handed me the "responsibility" like a hot potato and vanished.

  Cat's out of the bag. I'm a student council member.

  It seems like stark contrast to my behavior, but if you know of my family. They wanted the best for me especially after middle school. I've just been rejecting all of those recommendations to "build character". I didn't have a choice in the matter, so this was the only way I could ever do anything important.

  ?I stared at the exchange student. I wanted to complain, to argue that my "slothful philosophy" was being violated, but that would require words. And words required energy.

  ?The safety net was gone. All roads led back to the one thing I hated most: being relevant.