I awoke this morning well-ridden with anxiety. Camila, Aarav and Dorian were coming over today. The food in my mouth right now might as well have been sandpaper with each bite.

   But that could also be because this cereal was a little too close to its expiry date.

   Why couldn't I just wake up from this nightmare already?

"I know I've been coming in later than usual," Mum said from her seat in our kitchen. "Final year in Med School has just been really hectic and the hospital cannot seem to find a stable substitute for me yet."

"Yeah, you have." Like I'm one to talk. "But I get it, don't worry."

"So how are you? Is everything good in sch—Oh my God! Are you okay?" she had to yell over the coughing fit from me that interrupted her and rushed to pat my back.

"I'm okay." I swallowed another emerging cough down my battered chest.

   At least my almost fatal choking on my breakfast had diverted her attention from her first question. Not that I orchestrated this near death experience or anything, but now I wasn't going to feel sick to my stomach for lying yet again.

"I'll be at the hospital." She stepped away to place her cup in the sink. "The study group's meeting again so I'll be home late. I filled up the pantry and you can heat up dinner in the fridge when you come from school."

"Okay." I smiled. "Bye, Mum."

"Bye!"

   After she walked out the door, I took a few minutes to survey my environment. I sighed, deserting the bowl of food before me and rising from my seat.

   It was time to get to work.

***

"I mean, it looks fine... right?"

   Great, now my anxiety has driven me to pose paranoid questions to absolutely no one. This was after the same emotion had driven me to clean every part of my home. Except the terrifying attic, of course. I was not going in there.

   But I had cleaned the garage/laundry room. Sort of, anyway.

   My arms were letting me have it for working them so hard. I collapsed out of breath on my couch, probably looking as ridiculous as I felt.

   Eventually going up to the bathroom for the second time today, the echoing droplets from the shower nozzle was not enough to drown out the snarky voice roasting me for being such a people pleaser.

   In my defence, I was not that type of person. Not usually, anyway. But it was not like I was wrong for thinking about, or rather predicting, the comments I was going to be subtly attacked with for having a different lifestyle.

   I returned to my room after finishing with my shower to find that my phone had lit up from a text from Dorian.

   They were here.

***

"Hey." I approached Dorian after spotting his familiar sweater and jeans clad figure from afar.

   His texts read that he was standing near one of the bus stops in a usually busy street in Ridgeton. I found him waiting in front of a large, brick-walled music store, one of the famous landmarks in the district. And the oldest.

   My brows furrowed when I realised he was there alone, without Rav and Camila.

"Hi." Dorian gave me a curt response, his stare never breaking away from the store facing us.

   I looked around for the remaining two just to be sure, before asking, "Are we going to wait a while for the rest?"

"No. They're still at the bunker."

"Fewer judgy eyes, good." It took me a few seconds to register that I'd just mumbled that thought out loud.

"What?" His eyes moved to glance at me this time.

"Nothing! I meant to say then we should probably get going."

   He gave a stiff nod and followed suit beside me as I began walking. The store was about a fifteen minute walk to my home and I had no idea what was going to fill the awkward silence that was bound to arise. The only thing my mind was preoccupied with and torturing me to bring up was his Virtual Dance lie and the reason why he wasn't mind controlled like every other Zavlonian.

"That music store looked ancient," he said.

   Huh. Guess I didn't have to worry after all.

"Yeah," I replied, swirling backwards to look at the building again. "My mum said it's been there since the 1960s I think."

"I don't think I've seen that many instruments in a single place. There was everything I could possibly think of. All instruments, old and new, had the same refined quality to them. It was almost as if they were begging to be played. It was... heavenly."

   I peered at Dorian's face to confirm whether excitement was what was really laced with his statement. Sure enough, the signature deadpan expression was substituted for a not really giddy yet pleasantly relaxed look.

   I'll take it.

"I suppose it was," I dared to continue. "I'm assuming you play an instrument?"

"Instruments." He nodded. "The piano and sax. But only a little for the latter."

   My brows rose at that. "I've always found the sax pretty cool. The piano too. When did you start learning?"

"About three years. My parents had the piano way before I was born."

"And you're sixteen now so... Damn! Were you one of those online child prodigies people used to obsess over or something?"

"Or something." The light humour intertwined with his tone fueled my astonishment. "And seventeen now, actually."

"Right," I said.

   I kept forgetting he was a year ahead. I wondered how he'd react if asked what made him hang with Rav instead of his mates but I wasn't ready to ask. I didn't ruin whatever this miracle of Dorian speaking so freely was.

"So what kind of piano do you use?" I asked.

   My knowledge of music related stuff was pretty shallow and I didn't personally know anyone musically inclined. I was aware though, that there was the grand piano, organ, keyboard and baby piano or something.

"It's a 3d print of a '65 with predominantly glass coated wood," he answered.

   What kind of piano is that?!

"Sounds like a classic." Was the only response I could breathe out.

"Yeah, I think so too."

   Of course he did. What happened to normal wood? 

   Without waiting for the standard four seconds for the silence that settled to become uncomfortable, I shifted my thoughts to his backpack.

"Did you remember to bring all the materials?"

"Yep." In the course of patting the bag hanging off his shoulder as he replied, Dorian's gaze lifted to the buildings on our left. "Is that a school?"

   The enjoined structures on a vast cemented land were similar in shape, height and colour. The dullness in each building matched the quiet environment they wielded. They lacked an interesting appeal to them. It was the perfect embodiment of a school. A school I knew all too well.

"Yes, Ridgeton High. Where I was—" I froze as he suddenly walked past me, heading toward my former school. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?! Unlike us, literally every existing school is session. We can't just crash their classes!"

"I don't plan on going in, just observing." His quick pace had already led him to the sidewalk leading to the school. "So this is a public high school."

   I visibly cringed at the comment. I knew what was coming next. I should've known it was a mistake to let my guard down for even a second. Why did I think Dorian coming alone was going to change anything? One person was still enough to instil tragic judgement. I braced myself for the similar taunts and insults directed toward me about Ridgeton while I walked through Zavlon's hallways for the first few weeks.

   He should just make this quick. .

"It's a public high school." He quipped again, his green eyes seemed to glow a few shades brighter as he gazed up at the grey-coloured, poorly maintained cluster of buildings that made up Ridgeton High School.

   I wasn't sure if I had heard the emotion behind his words right. It had an eerie similarity to the one he had when talking about musical instruments. At the risk of sounding wrong about my previous thoughts of contempt, Dorian was excited.

   It had an eerie similarity to the one when he talked about the piano. At the risk of sounding wrong about my previous thoughts of contempt, Dorian was excited.

"Yeah." I was really confused.

"This was where you were before Zavlon Academia?"

"Yes. It's nothing fancy or anything." I made sure to add before he could. "Definitely nowhere close to Zavlon."

"No, it's not," he agreed. Dorian's wistful gaze on the silent walls of Ridgeton High, however, never faltered. "It's normal."

A/N: WE HIT FOUR HUNDRED READS GUYSSS!!! I really appreciate you all.

Today's dedication is to every silent reader out there. Thank you for loving 'Free Minds' from afar!

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Published: 7th October, 2021 .