Quietly confident

True reality

Sarah makes her way through the elegant street. Each bit seems scrubed to every inch of its life. Anywhere else, sweat would be required. Not here.
She has dirty blonde hair just below shoulder height and pail skin like a vampires. Though everyone's skin is. Sarah puts it down to 'those damn injections.'

She observes both directions. Lights off, curtains closed and people asleep. Few though are trapped inside with immersion written throughout their body

I see some are still playing it.

The street is dead quiet with only the noise generating from the stadium to be heard. Its size dwarfs the other buildings. Its surface, like that of a squashed disco ball, gleaming with pride. Sarah arrives outside the stadium. The noise turns to roars; each individual with a different demand. She goes to pull out her pass finding the gate man's hand on her arm.
'There is no need' said the gate man softly.
Sarah nods and goes through the gate.

The inside keeps up the stadiums eminent appearance. Each tile shinning from the lights above. Blinding it is not for her eyes. Even so they are on the other side above a flight of stairs.

They must be at least close to that stage.

She places one foot on the bottom step.
'It seems the queen has returned!' called the gate man.
Sarah suddenly stops. She let's out a braying laugh. A couple of seconds pass. Her face becomes serious. She gracefully turns around and replays in a loud, deep voice 'Indeed.'
''And still hasn't changed!' called the gate man.
Sarah turns her back to the gate man.

She walks through to the main area. Her eyes quickly adjust to the new lighting. Her ears ring with peoples names.

They're at that stage.

The atomata of people and grass fills the air. Non existent is the aroma of food. The centre resembles a perfectly flat medow. Sat down in the dead centre are two individuals with just a hovering simulation of Earth between them. Each has some cards in their hands. To the right of both sits a separate deck of cards. Sarah sits down reaching in front of her. She stops and smiles. She pulls out her phone.
'Emma has had her turn! It is now Issabella's!' Shouted the referee. This only makes the crowd grow louder. Sarah starts scrolling through her phone concentrating on each picture or video. She suddenly stops. A gust of wind picks up moving Sarah's hair slightly. In that instance Issabella picks out Sarah. They know they are both thinking the same thing.

It's an obscurely sunny day in England. Summer is young yet the sun looms large. Cirencester college itself is small though dispearced as if the planners had a giggle at the expense of the new finding their way. Newly built buildings behind the old doesnt help their cause. Each building is given a letter and each room a number. In the lower stories are the classrooms. Staff have the luxury of the highest floors being home to their offices. The biggest and most inviting building is reception. Students would normally wait for their friends there going into town for their free periods.

Most students are casually making their way to their next lesson. Couple are, how you say, eager. Tiho cant help harshly laughing, through his nose, at the couple. Tiho's skin is smooth never really having a spot problem. He's short yet broad. His hair style is short around the edges and long on top. When a teacher saw it she said 'meet me at McDonalds.'
He's done for the day; no urge to go home. The noise quietons the deathaning loneliness. The sun's Ray's too appealingly to resist. His perfect weather to hunch over a bench one hand on his book, the girl on the train by Paula Hawkins, the other on his rain coat inside his bag. Slightly smileing at the last sentence, he shut the book. His hand drifts from his coat to his head acknowledging it is a silly thought. Despite what people say, it is England not the Amazon rainforest. A thought crossed his mind to people watch. Behind him lies a field with sport inflicted scars but vast and smooth none the less. There is a group of people playing football; jeering whenever a mate takes a poor shot. Others sat down having a conversation about the wild parties they've been to or the exams they're nervous about. Tiho can't relate. Never cared much for drinking. Knocked out his, second year, syllabuses in a solid two and a half months especially mathematics, his ex favourite subject. The thought to people watch was fleeting. Action would turn dull.