IGNORANTIA (Dark Academia!Wesper AU)

veertien

A/N: Due to burnout and some online harassment, this fic has been shortened from 35 chapters to 25. I sincerely apologize for how rushed the story gets from here, but I felt like I owed it to y'all to finish the fic. Yes, I know how bad the pacing is, and yes I know there's a lot of misspellings and clichés used. This was just the best I could do with how my mental health has been. 
Also, as of May 14th chapter thirteen (AKA the last chapter) has been rewritten. If you read it before this date, all you need to know is that four months have passed since Bo's death rather than three weeks. Thank you for being patient with me as I work out all of these kinks. Much love x.

B natural, Db, Eb, Db, Eb. Two half notes, quarter rest, four quarter notes and two eighth notes. It's just like a science experiment; change the notes and something drastic may happen. Keep to the formula and everything will turn out alright.

Dorian's dinner reception is tomorrow, and I can't shake off the buzz of nervous energy running through my body. I try to channel it through my music, but to no avail. It's impossible to focus when everyone I've been ignoring will be in the same room as me at that dinner. How am I supposed to act normal around Kuwei or the Council when I've killed a man in cold blood?

Not that anyone knows about that yet. Jesper had been very confident in our confidentiality as we dragged Bo Yul-Bar's body to the riverbanks. If Bo's body had been discovered, surely I would have heard about it by now.

We should have dismembered it and spread the pieces around. We should have talked to Jesper's boss and worked a plea deal with him. I could have lied and said Bo told me everything about jurda parem before he died and that it had been me who killed him or something. Jesper wouldn't have sold me out; he's smart enough to shut his mouth when he needs to.

Oh Ghezen, what have I become?

B natural, Db, Eb, Db, Eb. Two half notes, quarter rest, four quarter notes and two eighth notes. I play the pattern over and over again until they drown out the voices in my head. My temple pounds from the stress and the noise.

What the hell, there's no use continuing if I'm already so worked up. Maybe I can suit up and go for a jog around the campus. I've seen a couple young athletes do that, there's arms pumping in tandem as the wind turns their noses a cherry red. If that doesn't lower my adrenaline levels, I don't know what will.

I place my flute back in its case and head towards the storage closet in the wings. It would be a spacious room if it isn't for the massive instruments inside. I shove the wooden wedge in the door so I won't get locked out, and delve deep into the closet's throat where the rest of the flutes are. The instruments of alumni long gone hang above my head on silver fishing wire, and I'm just waiting for the day they come crashing down on me. I grab a stool and open my instrument locker on the top shelf where it's surely protected from ruffians and what have you, but makes for a big pain in my ass when I need to lock my instrument up.

As I go to place the lock back on the door, a shadow appears on the wall. "I'll be out of the way in just a sec," I say to the student as I step down from the stool.

"No worries," they say. "I just wanted to talk."

Jesper. I turn around, hoping it was just my own hysteria. Just as my luck would have it, it was indeed him.

"I told you I didn't want to talk," I say. I try to step past him, but he simply blocks my way.

"Please, Wylan," he begs, "it'll be quick, I swear."

He tries to move forward, but as he does so he knocks the wooden wedge out from underneath the doorway. I try to warn him — to get him to move out of the way or something — but it's too late. The moment he enters the closet, the door snaps shut behind him, encompassing us both in complete darkness.