《T.S.D.A Above》

Ashley grimaced, looking at the map in her years old phone. Seriously, she thought, how big is this school?

She had decided to spend her Saturday venturing out in the school's compound, not realizing exactly what she was getting herself into. There was no one on the path she was currently on, but the buildings didn't seem to be deserted.

Were these still dormitories, or the staff quarters? She wondered. If it was the latter, then she was definitely in the wrong place. She looked down at the map and narrowed her eyes.

T.S.D.A.

She frowned. What was that even supposed to mean, she wondered, looking around. She noticed the word written beside it in big bold letters.

PROHIBITED ACCESS TO STUDENTS

Suddenly, a head poked out from the balcony she had been looking at and her heart jumped up to her throat. She quickly snapped her gaze away.

"Yo. Looks like they've brought in another one." The man said, his voice coming off as scruffy and deep.

Ashley contemplated turning back, but when more heads poked out their balconies, her eyes became completely rooted to the paved ground.

"She's cute. Aye, sweetheart, Why don't you come over for a sec." Another male voice said.

"She looks weak. I don't think she belongs here." A feminine voice said.

Every single one of them had a rough feature that screamed badass. Be it a massive scar on their face, a huge, seriously scary tattoo on their body, ripped, bulky arm, towering height or a scary scowl that sent shivers down a person's spine.

The girl who said that met Ashley's stare head on before she cocked her head to one side. Her hair was shaved off at one side and had streaks of purple dye, her arms where full of tats and she was rocking a lip and belly piercing. She honestly looked fire. Dressed in a black crop top and jeans, she put her foot that was clad in black sneakers on the edge of the rail, lifted herself up and jumped right off the second floor.

Ashley took a step back, struck in awe as she took her time walking towards her; a smirk on her face.

"Easy, Minsook." A new voice said, sounding more amused than threatening.

Minsook flipped him off without even looking back and closed the distance between her and a terrified Ashley.

"You're the freshie, right?" She asked, her face too close for Ashley's liking; but she didn't dare tell her off.

She nodded instead and nibbled on her lower lip out of habit. Minsook grinned and wrapped her arms around Ashley,

"How is he?"

She frowned.

"How's—who?"

Minsook snickered, "Eros, of course. I heard you're screwing him. Bold move. Mariana will give you hell for that."

She frowned.

"Listen," Ashley begun, feeling the weight of her arm draped around her shoulders, "I don't want any trouble. I was just passing through."

Minsook snickered, "Some luck you got. This place reeks trouble." She said and tightened her grip on Ashley, "—so, what will it be? Mushrooms? Weed? We don't care if you're a freshie as long as you pay."

Ashley blinked.

"Wha—what?"

Minsook held her gaze for a few moments before her brown eyes hardened, "Or do you want us to get rid of someone for you?" She asked and pulled her arm away, seizing Ashley up, before she smirked,

"—already got enemies so soon?" She continued, and the rest laughed with her.

Ashley looked between Minsook and the others, "What kind of—?" She trailed off, looking at them with confusion.

One of the guys smirked, a cloud of smoke escaping from his lips as he did, "This is the T.S.D.A. No one ever told you about it during your transfer?" He asked, his gaze pitiful when Ashley shook her head.

"Troubled Student Detainment Area. The name explains it. Instead of getting expelled, you get sent here for the rest of the year. School's reputation and what not." Another guy explained. Out of everyone else, he was the only one without a single tattoo and had the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

Ashley pursed her lips, "You guys don't seem that bad though."

They let out a series of chuckles, "Wait till you hear about what we did." A new feminine voice said, her red hair flowing with the wind and hitting the blue eyed guys right on his face.

Minsook walked ahead of Ashley with a wave of her hand, "Anyway, if you're not here for something, then do fuck off. This is our tuff."

Ashley nodded and pursed her lips. Spinning on her heels, she walked ahead. She made a note to ask Casey more about the T.S.D.A when she saw her.

As she was walking, a thought crossed her mind. What did Minsook mean when she said get rid of someone? It couldn't possibly be what she was assuming, could it?

🔱🔱🔱

She cocked her head to the side and stepped through the metal door. The air up there felt cleaner and the occasional soft breeze was cold, but calming. She was on the rooftop of an empty two story building that was a bit further away from the T.S.D.A. The space was incredibly dusty, contradicting the fresh air around her. 

Beside her was what looked to have been a greenhouse, but was now a mass of withered flowers and plants cakes in dust. In front of the little green house on her left stood a barbecue space that clearly hadn't been used for a while. Directly in front of her was a little lounge area with a fine mahogany table hugged by dust and what seemed to have been a black couch set, facing away from her.

To her exact right, and across the greenhouse, stood a lonely, dusty black grand piano that was waiting; that has been waiting, to be played; it seemed to be a little less dustier than everything else and had what looked like fresh prints on the surface. The place was designed in an very elegant, feminine manner. She could tell as much. The floor was porcelain tiled in a windmill pattern, and the edges were designed with black and gold alternating bricks, running along the path.

The greenhouse too had tiles outside of it that stretched from the path, as well the section with the piano and the lodge. They were however, too dusty for Ashley to determine their colour. The lounge area also seemed to have what looked like a fuzzy, long carpet laying perfectly in the middle.

With just a bit of cleaning up, it would look mesmerizing. Dabbing it as her new favourite spot, Ashley went to her room, promising herself that she would make it her mission to revive that place whenever she had the time.

Too bad I can't play piano.

🔱🔱🔱

"The what?" Casey asked, a confused look on her face.

"T.S.D.A, you know, troubled students detainment area? You don't know about it?"

Casey was quiet for a few beats, her gaze hard on Ashley with an indescribable look in her green eyes, "How did you know about that? Are you freaking doing drugs?" She asked, her eyes hardening.

Ashley raised her palms, "No, I swear. I just found myself in their tuff."

Casey held her icy gaze on Ashley, a knowing look behind them before she softened up, "I hope that's all there is to it." She said, more to herself, "—the T.S.D.A is where the major delinquents are. People who threaten the school's rep. It's kinda dumb, but yeah. Those guys are bad news, Ash. Don't go back there." She finished.

"Well, I already know that much, and that they deal drugs, but what else do they do? How exactly do they get rid of people." Ashley asked, noticing Casey stiffen all of a sudden.

"Promise me you won't go back there." Casey said, avoiding Ashley's question.

Ashley held her gaze as her best friend tied her golden hair into a ponytail, "I promise, but what do they do to people."

Casey pursed her lips, knowing that she wouldn't let it go. She sighed, "They're freshie crushers. If Mariana doesn't get the job done, they do it, if she asks them to. See, you're a threat to her, Ash. Because Eros, you know?" Casey explained, meeting her brown gaze through the mirror in front of her, "—and since you're stubborn and strong enough not to let her get her way," she paused and turned around to face, "—she'll most likely try to use them."

Ashley raised an eyebrow at the revelation, her jaw clenched. So, in short, she thought, I'm done for.

"But how come they listen to her?"

Casey cocked her head to the side, "Who do you think is their supplier?"

Ashley's eyes widened.

No way.

"Better believe it. That's why she has such a strong influence in this dump. Her parents are drug lords, my dude." Casey said, patting Ashley on her shoulder and grinning.

"But lucky for you, you have people with a greater influence than her on your side. A million Marianas combined still wouldn't be enough to compare."

Ashley frowned, wondering what she meant. On seeing the questioning look in her eyes, Casey clarified,

"Why Blake, Jason, Brock, Ally, Seb and Eros, of course." She said, "—not forgetting yours truly. She can't touch you,  so don't worry."

She pursed her lips, wondering what kind of influence each of the had, knowing that Casey's mother had a large, famous fashion brand that blew up not to long ago. That was about it. She didn't know about the others, but she was bound to find out now. It was time to do some digging.

"Though, I think Eros will be enough. More than enough, actually." Casey said, snickering to herself as she shook her head, "I would say I feel bad for her, but she's ruined so many lives, it's hard to."

"What's his influence?" Ashley asked, desperately curious to know.

"You already know he owns the Zilch, right?"

Ashley nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

"That, my clueless bestie, is but a crystal of salt to a whole sea."

🔱🔱🔱

Ashley practically skipped to her next class. It was Art, which to her, wasn't even a class, but a place where she could go and brush up on her drawing and painting. She felt like doing the latter today, so she took a seat on the far back, where the canvases where neatly arranged and waiting to be used.

In front of the row of canvasses, were comfortable looking chairs with wheels and tables designed for graphic tablets placement. The tablets themselves were on and ready to be used. The class was half full but Ashley decided to get started before everyone else got there. They were free painting today.

She picked the materials she would need, put on a blue apron that were provided for and usually hanged beside each canvas, then finally took a seat on for station; which was at the very back of the room and in front of the table with the materials. She sighed and decided to do a sketch, before she started painting; needing it to turn out as perfect and as accurate as possible.

Maybe then, I could remember his eyes.

She turned and took a pencil from the supplies table that stretched out horizontally and all the way to the other side of the row. She then begun her sketch. She started with a few action lines that would guide her to bring the piece to life, the construction of the boy, what he would be wearing, the flow of his hair and all the while she kept the perspective in mind. She remembered his height, how tall he had been then, how he looked from her point of view, the details of his face; like the scar that had been on it. She wondered if he still had it, since scars heal.

Ashley then started to sketch what she remembered about his face,  keeping in mind how young he was. She sketched his eyebrows, raising them exactly as she had remembered, putting the memory of the turmoil that had been on his face on the paper, capturing everything she could.

Everything except for his eyes—his damn eyes. 

She couldn't remember their colour. She didn't have a chance to, because he was falling when she saw him, she made him jerk back in shock and lose his bearing on the balcony top. She had ran after that, thinking that she should get help first, instead of checking on him and making sure he was okay. She had been naïve, she had assumed he was dead and had ran to get someone to call an ambulance. When she finally did, they told her that she should go home, and that it wasn't something a child should see.

She assumed the worst, and left, trusting that the adults would take care of it. She grew up believing he was dead, that she killed him by spooking him. She never told the police, or anyone else. Kept it a secret, and it haunted her for nights on end.

She forgot about it for a while, and wouldn't have bothered to remember. That day, however, when a man was shot dead in front of her—well, in front of her roommate; the memory resurfaced and hit her like a truck. It brought everything back. Everything, except for his eyes. She gritted her teeth and put her pencil down, having finished the sketch.

She didn't know if they were wide, narrow, almond shaped, or doe like. She didn't know if they were bright or dark, she didn't know their colour, she didn't know anything about him. She had only caught a glimpse of him before he started falling off the balcony.

She just had to get into that building, she just had to yell at him for trying to feed her dog, hadn't she? She scolded herself, as the other students tricked into the room.

This particular course was a joined one between the Elite and Pioneer, since there aren't a lot of people doing arts in Grudgeford. It was typical really, that the most popular courses taken were business related ones.

Brock walked in and saw her slacking at the back of the room, her right arm holding a palette and a pencil in her other hand. He was thrown off by how uncharacteristic she looked and immediately knew something was bothering her. She looked frozen in place, as if she had been putting the pencil down below the canvas when a spell was cast on her still body.

He frowned and approached her, sneaking a peek at what she had been drawing. His frown deepened when he saw the rough sketch. He clenched his jaw when he noticed the slightest sketch of a scar on her character's left eye, just below it, that ran down to almost the corner of his mouth.

He sighed and turned back to her. Brock placed a hand on her shoulder, grabbing her attention back from the dark thoughts that were without a doubt flowing through her head. She looked up at him and he smiled.

"Hey, you." He greeted, squeezing her shoulder subtly before letting go.

Ashley sobered up immediately and sat up straighter, grinning back at him.

There she is.

"Hi. What's up?"

Brock took a seat diagonally to hers, where he could crane his neck back and see her canvas, and she could look over her shoulder to see his tablet and screen.

"Nothing much. A lot could happen if you'd just say yes to me at least once, you know?" He said, adding a wink for effect.

Ashley frowned and tilted her head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Can I draw a nude painting of you?" He asked, no hesitation or humor in his voice.

Ashley smirked and shook her head, "Only if I can do the same to you." She replied.

Brock whirled around faster than she could blink, his eyes glimmering with hope,

"Really?"

Ashley smiled, "No, Brock. You are one dirty dude."

Brock's shoulders sagged and he turned back around, lazily grabbing his stylus pen and scribbling on his tablet. Ashley felt bad and leaned over, she poked him on his back and whispered,

"You know who would love to though?" She asked.

"You?" He asked, hopefully again, but Ashley ignored him and nodded her head at a girl who had been crushing on Brock since she got to the school, maybe even longer; it was so obvious she liked him.

"Raven? No. She's cool, but no." He said, shaking his head.

He looked at her again, before he shook his head and sat up straighter, erasing his scribbling and starting a fresh. Ashley, seeing that he wanted to get serious, let him be and focused back to her own drawing.

She squeezed the paint she had selected onto the palette and begun painting the face first, knowing it would give her trouble if she finished with it.

She spent a couple of hours on that particular part, before she moved on the boy's neck, shoulders, arms, abdomen and finally the legs. She struggled greatly on the limbs, because of the action pose she was working with. His left arm was supposed to be up, while his right arm was meant to be reaching out towards her, hoping that she would grab it and pull him in, preventing his inevitable fall. His left leg was supposed to be dangling off the edge of the corner of the balcony she would later draw, and his right foot was supposed to be sliding off the edge. He had been standing on the balcony top, but facing the door where Ashley remembered coming in from.

He had been holding out grapes to her dog with his right hand, while his left held the pillar beside him, but then she had yelled at him, not to give him grapes. Ashley shook her head, stopping herself from going back there and painted the balcony, trying to replicate the pattern as best as she could. She drew the grape tree that was just beside the pillar, and the top of her dog's—Glaze's—head; not missing his fuzzy, brown ears, that were raised in alert.

She drew the clouds behind him, that were so still, and unaware of what was happening below them; unaware that a life would be lost soon. She used a cold shade of blue for them, wanting whoever would see the piece to feel how cold she had felt in that moment, she painted his clothes darker than they had actually been, to amplify that said mood. He had been dressed in a plain, blue shirt, and black jeans. On his feet, as she remembered, were white Nike shoes, that were destined to be stained with something other than dirt that day.

She hinted what it was exactly, and dabbed a little bit of crimson red on them, subtle, but it was there.

The piece took longer than she had expected, and when she looked up, she saw that half the class had left already. The teacher however, was still there and was busy walking around, examining what each of her students had or were doing.

Ashley then looked at Brock, and caught his stare at her piece. He had a frown on his face, but what struck her the most, was that there was no confusion in them. It was like he could answer the questions most people were likely have about her piece. Questions like, why she left the eyes unpainted, or blank even. Ashley had tried to make it seem like she left them out on purpose, because she had a thick, plain, vertical line that ran across her character's face, where his eyes should have been. She however, painted his hair, the scar, his nose, mouth, cheeks, ears and the rest of his body and background.

Brock finally turned to her, not changing his expression, "Who's that?"

Ashley smiled, "You." She joked.

"Ha, ha, funny." He said, raising his right arm and pointing at his bare, forearm; bringing his smooth honey skin to her attention.

Ashley scoffed and shook her head at him, but it didn't seem like he would let it go. His face darkened; indicating that he wanted an answer.

"A boy I kind of meet a long time ago. When I was eleven, I think." She answered, looking back at the painting.

"It looks good." He said, looking back at it, specifically at the scar.

"Is he okay?"

Ashley pursed her lips and shrugged, a lump forming on her throat, "I never got a chance to tell."

Brock turned to her again, his frown deepening, though she couldn't see it. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it once the teacher reached Ashley's station and blocked his view of her.

Her name was Mrs. Denice, one of the few lecturers that did not have a nickname given to them by the students. She was lucky, unlike Mr. Heine and Mr. Worysom.

She stopped at Ashley's station and frowned, pursing her lips. She had red, fiery hair that flowed down her back, and was a little bit chubby. Her brown eyes scanned Ashley's piece. She examined it and interpreted it silently and in the best way she could, before she turned her attention to her student.

"Interesting work, Crowther." Was all she said, before she moved on to Brock's station.

Ashley let out a sign of relief, glad that she didn't ask any further questions, despite there being many. It was one of the reasons why this was her favourite class; loving to draw and paint, being the first, of course.

She carried on and added creases to his clothes where she saw fit, a few more details, shadows and finishing touches to her painting. As she did this, she couldn't help but overhear her critic Brock's work.

"Ah yes, Mr. Harred. I expected you to use this style as always."

Ashley smiled, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Brock loved to cartoonize his drawings. It was like a cross between anime and reality. He had an interesting style of mixing the two into one piece.

She craned her neck and her smile widened at what she saw. Brock had drawn Casey, Jason, Ally, Seb, Blake, himself, her and Eros; in that order. Behind them stood what looked like a modern castle, with people walking towards it, surrounding them from each side. The castle itself and the people walking towards it was realistic.

Behind them was what looked like the way into the entrance, which explained why people had to walk beside them to get to the castle. Ashley pursed her lips and wondered how he managed to capture everyone's personality as accurately as he did. What caught her attention even more, was the colours that he choose to use. He only used brown, blue, forest green and grey for the drawing. Ashley looked carefully, and realized that those were the colours of everyone's eyes.

Her grin widened impossibly, loving his piece more than hers. He blended the colours perfectly together, using blue and grey for the sky and clouds, and green and brown for the vegetation and the castle. He left everyone's arms, clothes and face uncoloured, except for their eyes, making them stand on against the black and white hue of their physiques. He left the crowd trying to get to the castle in colour from head to toe as they all had their back turned away from them.

The more Ashley stared at it, the clearer she could see how much work, effort and love he had put into it.

"You have the potential to draw realistic pieces." Mrs. Denice commented, "—but if this is the style you have chosen, so be it. It looks lovely as well." She finished, patting him on the back once, before she moved on to the next student.

Well, Ashley thought, I guess he's the favorite.

Brock cleared his throat and turned, meeting Ashley's expression. He raised a brow and she shook her head, "I never knew you felt that way about us."

He immediately frowned at her and tilted his head to one side, "What? You guys are family."

Ashley couldn't help it, "Awwww, Brock." She said, suddenly feeling like giving him a hug.

"Do Not. Move." He warned, almost reading her mind.

Ashley clicked her tongue and her shoulders sagged, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

"You know what would make it even better?"

"Here we go again."

"If you let me paint you nude."

Ashley sighed and flipped him off. Brock chuckled and got back to his piece, adding whatever it was he needed.

Ashley leaned back, content with her work. She hadn't planned for it to fill the whole canvas, just it did the painting justice regardless.

"Hey, Brock?"

"Hmm?" He answered, without looking up from his tablet.

"What do your parents do?"

"My parents?" He asked, though his composure didn't waver as he went on drawing.

"Yeah. I've never really asked about them, or about you."

Brock snickered, "You can always google, you know."

Ashley nodded, "It did cross my mind. But you can't always believe what you read online, right?"

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about where to start.

"Well, they're retired lawyers, I guess. They own a law firm each. Harred and Co, is what they called them," he paused with a sigh, "—but yeah, they hire lawyers to take cases from clients. I don't really know much about it really, it's just not for me. More of my kid brother's interest." He finished, his jaw working.

"And what is?"

He smiled, "Motorcycle racing. It's what I do to earn a few extra cash."

Ashley gasped, "Deadass? Isn't that dangerous?"

He nodded, "Very, very dangerous."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I love it, Ash. I'm obsessed with bikes and that feeling I get when I race. I'm always careful though, and only compete in official matches, not street racing. I might go too far and hurt someone."

"Yeah right, more like you'll get hurt."

He laughed and shook his head, "Probably. I have a deal with Mercedes too, I advertise their latest bikes and products related to that, model for them from time to time, and in exchange I get paid." He finished, sounding proud and happy with himself.

"Wow, that's —," Ashley paused, "—you're already on your way to becoming a pro."

"That's the dream, Ash, that's the dream." He said, biting his lip.

What he told her was true, but he didn't tell her about one important thing. A fact that would change the way she looked at him, and would determine whether she would want to be his friend just the same.

He looked at her and smiled, wanting to tell her, because he knew that if he did, she wouldn't change how she treats him. She knows he carries a gun and actively uses it for god's sake, so why would she ditch him for something like that?

Having made up his mind, he parted his lips, "I'm also—," he begun, but Ashley's phone buzzed in her pockets and she immediately scrambled for it.

She read the text and looked up at him. Brock knew what she wanted to say even before she said it.

"You have to go?" He asked, in case he was wrong.

Ashley nodded and got up, taking the apron off and putting her pallet on the table. Usually, she would put her things away herself, but Casey was coming to her room to pick her up for some party she got invited to and she was barely ready.

Brock saved his drawing in his account and got up too. He waited for her as she hurriedly washed the paint off her hands. He looked at the ground and cursed himself for almost slipping up. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone, at least, not until he was done with his studies, only then would his father gave him the go ahead. Only Eros and Seb knew, but only because they too, were in the same predicament.

Ashley's sneakers came into his view, stopping in front of him and he looked up at her, a smile appearing on his face as he did.

"You were saying something?" She asked, as they begin to make their way out of class.

Brock shook his head, his eyes searching hers before he sighed and looked at the path leading down the ever empty elite hallway and towards the exit.

"Yeah, I was going to say that I'm also in love with you."

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