Sinful Symphonies [MxM]

1. The Boy Who Crossed the Sea

The first thing Faereez Haynne noticed about London was the sky.It wasn't blue.It wasn't gold.

The cab carried him away from Heathrow, its window revealing an endless stretch of grey. Thick, soft clouds layered like wool swallowed the sun whole.  From there, the world looked colder than anything he'd known in Malaysia.  The skeletal trees and the fogged glass when he leaned too close made it feel even colder.

He pressed his fingers lightly against the violin case resting on his lap.

Sponsorship student.
Blackthorne University.
Department of Classical Music.

It still felt unreal.

Born in Kuala Lumpur to a Malay mother and an English father, Faereez embodied a blend of cultures.  His strong Malay bone structure was softened by pale skin that flushed easily in the cold.  Strawberry-blonde hair brushed neatly over his forehead caught the light, while his long-lashed and gentle hazelnut brown eyes exuded a deceptively serene quality.

He looked delicate.Too delicate.But there was nothing fragile about the way he played.

The cab turned past wrought-iron gates taller than any building he'd lived in back home. Blackthorne University rose beyond them like something torn from history,stone towers, arched windows, ivy crawling across ancient brick. Yet between those gothic structures stood sleek glass corridors and modern wings, blending past and present like a deliberate composition.

Prestigious in Arts.
Dominant in Athletics.
Feared in competitions across Southern London.

The car stopped before the main quad.The air was colder here. Chilled. Damp. The kind of cold that slipped under layers and lingered.

In the center of the quad stood a towering statue,Ronan Blackthorne himself. Cloaked in bronze, chin lifted, one hand resting over a cane, the other gripping what looked like a manuscript.

Founder. Visionary. Patron of discipline and excellence.

Faereez swallowed.He had crossed oceans for this.

"Mr. Haynne."

The voice was deep, aged but commanding. Faereez turned with slight haste,chilled by those voice.

Sir Albert Lockhart stood on the steps of the administrative hall, coat buttoned to his throat, silver hair combed back neatly. His eyes, that paired with round lenses and thin, copper-framed spectacles, were sharp in a way that suggested he missed nothing.

"Welcome to Blackthorne University."

Faereez straightened instinctively. "Thank you, Sir."

Sir Albert's eyes assessed him—not unkindly, but thoroughly. "Your portfolio was... impressive. The scholarship board does not make impulsive decisions."

"I won't disappoint the board," Faereez replied, voice calm despite the cold biting his ears.

A faint smile tugged at the principal's lips. "See that you don't. Excellence is expected here. Especially from those who travel far to stand among us."

A figure appeared beside him.Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark curls falling loosely over his forehead.

"This is Elijah B. Lexington," Sir Albert said. "Your assigned roommate."

Elijah extended a hand immediately, grin easy and bright. "Welcome to the castle, mate."

Faereez blinked at the warmth in his tone before shaking his hand. Elijah's grip was firm,calloused palms, a musician's strength.