Perfection [On hold - changing a lot of the story)

4║the way they coax

Ⅱ For aviary, who made the beautiful cover at the side Ⅱ

        It had only been a few days since Ophelia was whisked away to a life of paradise and already the feeling of solitude had aroused, taking away any sign of happiness as I walked across the corridor unaccompanied.

        The hall suddenly seemed to cave in, causing the corridor to present a feeling of meagreness, the only reason being there was no one left to fill the empty space that one special person had left behind. It was the effects of loneliness, of losing a friend to the process of apotheosis.

        Miss Lassuire appeared from her classroom, flashing a satisfied smile at me before continuing across the corridor to engage in her daily business. But I wasn't content; my optimism hadn't been strengthened. How could it when my friend was a mere few moments away from being stripped of her identity?

        My thoughts then fixed themselves somewhere else, reapplying images of the agitated faces of the reporters into the delicate sections of my mind, their harsh comments inflicting enduring scars into the frail layers of my confidence. Somehow, their insults affected me, degraded me - I didn't even know them.

        "Fleur?" a voice called and I turned around to face Esther Cadence - a familiar individual but not one I particularly wanted to speak with at this very moment in time.

        She was the girl everyone craved to be: rich, popular, beautiful. She was a part of a group, a class of individuals considered to be superior in our academy, without any genuine reason as to why.

        I mumbled a reply that held the intention of chasing her away but Esther falsely interpreted it as an invite as she stumbled next to me. I began walking away, hoping she would receive the message that I had no objective of sustaining a conversation with her.

        It wasn't that I was hostile, more that I really didn't associate with certain people throughout my time in this academy and Esther was clearly one of them. She spent years attempting to architect the school so that it fit her interpretation on life, converting it from an academy that loathed perfection to one that accommodated several people who covertly grasped an ardent desire to achieve perfection.

        After a few moments of her babbling on about the past and apologising about an event which I clearly couldn't care less about, she swiftly stepped in front of me. I stumbled, that lone act causing my equilibrium to lose its strength. I raised my eyebrows, questioning her motives but she waved me away, clutching my hand. She pressed a piece of paper tightly into my palm and clenched it shut, slipping away without pestering me any further.

        I frowned, turning around as people slowly filed out of their classrooms to leave the school. A wave of cacophony filled the corridor, causing even the smallest whisper to mix in with the largest of sounds. I moved towards a wall to avoid being stampeded on and opened the note swiftly, reading the contents before the chance was snatched away from me by the rush of students.

        Meet us at the demolished grounds.

        That's all the note requested, the scruffy handwriting giving an insight as to what I was prepared to see. But one question was constantly ringing throughout my mind, who was us? If Esther passed me the message, who else was going to be there? There had to be some great importance otherwise Esther Cadence wouldn't sacrifice a few minutes of her busy schedule just to socialise with a person who held no common superiority.

        I quickly stuffed the note into my pocket as echoing footsteps sounded throughout the hall, leaving behind a minute amount of students inhabiting the corners of the vast entrance. I turned around to find Lavinia Beaumont striding down the corridor with several people following close behind her and at either side of her. She paused for a moment at the end of the corridor before turning a corner.