The Pseudo Semicolon

CHAPTER 1 || PART: 2

Devland mustered up his remaining energy and ran all the way to school [a fifteen minute endeavour, thank God] and walked up to the reception.

The kind lady there handed him his schedule and he took off for his first class right away.

Everyone knew who he was. The resemblance was almost uncanny. Every step he took left behind traces of a legacy cut short and he...he would reignite the flame and cast the shadow of his predecessor.

Devland squared his shoulders and turned a sharp right towards his required class, hoping the whispers and the stares would decrease.

He had predicted this and purposefully researched his school last night, figuring out where each class was situated so he could avoid even the slightest of human interactions. It felt taxing to him. Every time his mother forced him to interact with people, he would plaster on a fake smile and dissociate for the next three hours.

He had planned to do that. As he sat down for his first class, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and ignoring the eyes that were boring onto the back of his head. When the teacher called him up to the front to introduce himself, he bit back a groan.

The teacher was balding, with puffs of hair on the sides of his head. However, he had beady kind eyes that reminded him of a certain character from an animated movie he watched when he was younger, and a silver moustache. Devland felt a bit guilty for cursing the old dude out in his mind but seriously? Couldn't he just introduce himself while sitting?

"Good morning." He greeted in a placid tone, "My name's Devland Beckett. I transferred here from The Pines because of certain... family problems." He noticed the atmosphere took a tinge of sadness, "I will be staying here for a year probably, or maybe until I graduate. Uhh... right hobbies—I like to read books, draw and play sports."

Lies.

Devland didn't like sports, never liked them. His brother had though; he liked to read and draw and play. Meanwhile, Devland could barely remember the last time he ever caught a break to actually cultivate some hobbies.

The world was slightly blurry to him now, the walls were grey and everyone's faces were melting. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the blood surging through his body, the distant sound of pencil tapping against the desk. Devland forced a confident smile, stuffing his trembling hands in his pockets as a show of indifference.

"Thank you Mr. Beckett, you may now take your seat." Mr. Clinton's voice barely registered in his head before Devland moved to his seat, stuffing his emotions behind a strong glass wall and watching as they wailed in panic.

"Hey Beckett." A different voice spoke and Devland snapped his attention back to reality, immediately putting on a mask. It belonged to a dark skin boy, curly brown hair and hazel eyes. He grinned with his arm extended towards Devland, patiently waiting for the latter to shake it.

Devland mirrored the other boy's smile and took his hand. "Hey."

"The name's Charlie. Charlie Heatings."

"Oh? Like the appliance store?"

"Yeah, my dad's the CEO of it."

'Of course.' Devland thought, already recognising the type of clothes he was wearing as expensive. He carefully calculated on what to say next and quickly took the other boy in, noticing the jersey and the soccer shoes in his desk drawer. Devland also noticed some admiring and rather lustful looks from his surroundings, all aimed at Charlie.

Devland had a vague idea on what the other boy was like.

"Ah... the ads."

"Please do not remind me." Charlie groaned before turning his attention back to the black board. He leaned back on his chair so that Devland could hear the rest of what he was saying, "It was a rather traumatising period of my life."