WHILE THE OTHER TWO OF THE THREE REMAINED, Lucien decided to outright skip sports class, ensuring he wouldn't cross paths with Neil for the rest of the day.
Julien figured that Lucien preferred not to linger in the dressing rooms afterward, surrounded by sweaty boys and the steam from the showers. Julien and Emile returned to an empty dorm, where Julien noticed the missing copy of "The Stranger" by Albert Camus. Assuming Lucien was out reading it, perhaps with a cigarette in hand, Julien reflected that Lucien had stopped making annotations, a habit he had once associated closely with him.
Julien couldn't shake the memory of when Lucien's abrupt departures from the dressing rooms began. It seemed out of character, a departure from their usual camaraderie. Emile, ever the perceptive one, sensed a shift in Lucien's demeanor, though he chose to mask his intuition behind his jovial facade. Perhaps Julien would unravel the mystery in due time, and Emile would leave it to him to broach the subject.
Was it Lucien's yearning for a certain individual that prompted his retreat, or was it the inclination towards solitude? The answer remained elusive, lingering on the periphery of their understanding, waiting to be unearthed. For now, they could only speculate, caught in the enigmatic orbit of Lucien's enigma.
Since Lucien's childhood friend tragically took his own life at the tender age of thirteen, Lucien had abandoned the practice of annotating books. He used to share his annotated copies with Michael, but after the loss, Lucien found himself unable to find purpose in the practice anymore.
Julien let out a weary sigh as he settled into his chair, promptly immersing himself in his homework assignments. Across the room, Emile flung himself onto the bed, retrieving a questionable magazine from beneath his mattress. Despite the predictable antics of his friend, Julien couldn't help but crack a wry smile and shake his head at Emile's antics.
Over the years, Lucien had come to realize that not a single day passed without thoughts of Michael crossing his mind. He had navigated through the stages of grief, from the initial denial to eventual acceptance, yet the pain lingered. Each day presented reminders of his lost friend, woven into the fabric of everyday life. As time trickled by, the vivid image of the thirteen-year-old Michael began to blur at the edges, blending with other memories until the once-clear picture of his friend became obscured.
Lucien harbored one deep-seated fear above all others: the fear of forgetting. Forgetting Michael, and forgetting the memories they shared, was a prospect that haunted him, casting a shadow over his every moment.
Lucien found himself disoriented as he made his way back from the newfound cave nestled in the heart of the woods, clutching his copy of The Stranger in his left hand. He refrained from discarding his cigarette on the forest floor, harboring a secret fear of accidentally igniting a blaze amidst the trees. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he caught sight of the treetops that crowned the Welton castle, guiding his steps in their direction.
Thoughts swirled in his mind as he traversed the familiar path. Memories of his friend Michael surfaced, intertwined with the weight of his own escalating depression. The impending loss of sleep loomed over him, a specter haunting his every waking moment. Amidst these thoughts, the image of Neil Perry also found its place, occupying a corner of his consciousness.
What was it about Neil Perry, Lucien pondered, that was so... captivating yet infuriating? The word danced on the tip of his tongue—intriguing, fascinating, and maddening all at once. Oh, how Neil could infuriate him with his flawless grades, his disarming smile, his meticulously styled haircut that seemed to mock the unruliness of Lucien's own locks. And then there was his demeanor, the subtle arrogance that seemed to permeate every interaction, as if he believed himself to be inherently superior.
But beneath the surface lay a boy ensnared by the expectations of his father, a man whose authority loomed over Neil's every decision. Lucien couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at the thought. Why couldn't Neil's father loosen the reins, allow him the freedom to explore, to indulge in extracurricular pursuits that might bring him joy? After all, Lucien reasoned, Neil was destined for success regardless—destined to follow in the footsteps of a doctor. Surely a few diversions wouldn't derail that predetermined path.
Lucien understood the dynamic of tough love all too well, having grown up under the weight of it himself. His parents, particularly his mother, wielded their disappointment like a weapon, a constant reminder of how his existence had derailed her dreams. She had sacrificed her aspirations to raise him, resenting him for every missed opportunity, every shattered ambition.
His father's hand was cruel but his mother's disdain was palpable. A relentless presence that hung heavy in the air, poisoning even the simplest of interactions. Lucien bore the brunt of her bitterness, absorbing her contempt like a sponge, internalizing the notion that he was somehow to blame for her unhappiness.
Sure, his mother despised him, her resentment fueled by the fact that he had effectively derailed her career. She had been on the brink of success, poised to graduate as a prima ballerina from Julliard, but his unexpected arrival had shattered those dreams. Now, she made it her mission to remind him of his role in her downfall at every opportunity, her reproach a constant echo in the halls of their home.
But despite the onslaught of her disapproval, Lucien had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their relationship, forging a steely resolve in the face of her animosity. He refused to let her bitterness define him, recognizing that her resentment was not a reflection of his worth, but rather a projection of her own unresolved disappointments.
Lucien's father played the role of a dutiful husband to perfection, constantly bending to his wife's will to avoid her wrath. He prioritized her happiness above all else, even if it meant disregarding his children's desires, particularly Lucien's. His sister, Victoria, found herself relegated to the sidelines, her actions often overlooked or excused under the guise of her unfortunate association with her "problematic" brother.
Despite the familial discord, Lucien harbored a secret affinity for his sister. They shared a bond forged in the crucible of parental neglect, finding solace and understanding in each other's company. Victoria's presence provided a reprieve from the hostility that permeated their household, offering a glimpse of companionship in an otherwise tumultuous environment. Though Lucien would never openly admit it, he treasured their relationship, finding in his sister a rare ally amidst the chaos of their family dynamic.
Lucien harbored grand ambitions for his future, envisioning himself as a celebrated writer whose words would resonate through the ages. Yet, despite his unwavering determination to pursue his literary aspirations, he grappled with the daunting prospect of sharing his work with the world. Even Julien, his trusted confidant, remained unaware of the depth of his creative endeavors, a testament to Lucien's guarded nature and the fear of exposing his vulnerabilities.
Amidst the backdrop of familial discord and parental expectations, Lucien's journey towards literary greatness faced yet another obstacle: the looming specter of his parents' disapproval. Their judgment and scorn served as formidable barriers, challenging his resolve and testing his courage at every turn. Despite these adversities, Lucien remained steadfast in his pursuit of artistic expression, determined to carve out a path for himself on his own terms.
The locker room felt strangely empty without Lucien's presence. Before returning to his room, instead of diving into his homework like Todd, Neil found himself lost in thought, gazing at the pictures of past students adorning the walls. Did they experience the same tumultuous emotions he had been wrestling with for some time now? Was it typical, or was it merely a byproduct of being confined within the walls of Welton with a group of hormonal boys?
Neil pondered these questions, wondering if his feelings were wrong or simply a product of his upbringing. He inherited his mother's gentle nature, while his father pushed for a rigid, militaristic upbringing, shaping his conflicting desires. Neil yearned for understanding, wishing desperately to share his inner turmoil, but feared being cast out for his true thoughts and feelings.
With each drag of his cigarette, Lucien felt the familiar haze of smoke enveloping his thoughts, momentarily shrouding the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. As he walked towards the entrance, the ember glowed brighter, casting fleeting shadows against the imposing wooden doors that loomed ahead.
His mind was a battleground, a clash of judgment and uncertainty warring for dominance. Lucien grappled with the disorienting sensation of being adrift in a sea of shifting perceptions. Was it him changing, or the world around him? The weight of past traumas lingered, an indelible imprint shaping his very being.
Lucien yearned for perpetual transformation, a relentless pursuit of evolution. Yet, paradoxically, he recoiled from the inevitability of change, clinging to the familiarity of the past. He feared the encroaching specter of forgetting, a haunting reminder of mortality's relentless march.
As he flicked the spent cigarette to the ground, a silent vow echoed within him—to navigate the tumultuous currents of existence, steadfast in his resolve to confront the unknown, yet anchored by the memories that tethered him to his truth.
With each step along the marble stairs, Lucien's mind wandered, filtering out the chatter around him. Knox and Charlie's discussion about the Danburrys barely registered as he trudged past them, knowing he would catch up on the gossip later in the dorm. Charlie's voice called out, inviting him to join their trigonometry study session, but Lucien remained silent, lost in his own thoughts.
As he approached his dorm, his gaze involuntarily flickered towards Neil's and Todd's door, closed and inscrutable. Curiosity tugged at him, wondering what transpired behind its wooden facade, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. Entering his own room, Lucien shut the door behind him, enveloped once again in the solitude of his own space.
As Lucien entered the dorm, he found himself greeted by the familiar presence of Julien and Emile. Emile's restless energy was evident as he bounced a ball off the wall and deftly caught it, while Julien quietly went about unpacking his belongings.
Lucien tossed his book onto his desk and joined in the camaraderie, engaging in light conversation with his friends as he absentmindedly threw the ball back and forth with Emile. Despite the weight of the day's thoughts lingering in his mind, the easy companionship of his dorm mates provided a welcome distraction.
As Julien observed the interaction between the two dark-haired boys, he couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Lucien's demeanor. Gone was the weight of sadness that seemed to envelop him upon entering the room. Instead, there was a sense of lightness, a facade carefully constructed to shield his inner turmoil. Julien couldn't help but wonder how long Lucien could maintain this facade before it crumbled under the weight of his suppressed emotions.
Meanwhile, Emile reveled in the opportunity to engage in lighthearted banter with his closest friend. The memory of Michael's passing lingered like a shadow between them, a barrier that prevented them from delving into deeper conversations. Emile grappled with the knowledge that he could be a better source of support for Lucien, yet he struggled to find the right words or gestures to offer solace.
As they made their way to the study room with the rest of the group, Lucien couldn't shake the weight of his thoughts. While some delved into mathematics and science, others, like Emile and Charlie, engaged in lighthearted banter.
Meanwhile, Lucien retreated to a corner by the window, finding solace in the act of writing. The words flowed from his pen, a reflection of his inner turmoil and aspirations. He harbored a deep fear of sharing his creations with the world, uncertain if anyone would truly understand them. Yet, he held onto the hope that someday he might gather the courage to publish his work, dedicating it to someone significant in his life, whether it be his sister, Michael, or no one at all.
Lost in contemplation, Lucien was unaware of a pair of eyes discreetly watching him. When he finally noticed Neil's gaze fixed upon him, a surge of curiosity and anticipation coursed through him. Their eyes met briefly before Neil redirected his attention to Meeks, who was explaining a mathematical concept. Despite the diversion, Lucien couldn't shake the feeling of being observed, his mind buzzing with newfound intrigue.
The door creaked open, and Knox entered, his weary demeanor immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Curious eyes followed him, hungry for any news from beyond the walls of Welton. Even Julien and Lucien, deeply engrossed in their own pursuits, glanced up from their journals and textbooks.
"How was dinner?" Charlie's inquiry cut through the anticipation, prompting Knox to pause and gather his thoughts.
"Huh?" Knox's response was fragmented, eliciting laughter and confusion from Emile.
"How was dinner?" Charlie repeated, patiently awaiting a coherent answer.
"Terrible. Awful," Knox complained, his discontent evident. Lucien's eyebrows furrowed, a subtle indication of his unexpected interest, while Neil couldn't help but wonder at Lucien's sudden change in demeanor. Was he genuinely engaged, or simply seeking diversion from boredom?
"What happened?" Charlie pressed, eager for details. Julien, Emile, and Lucien moved closer, leaning in to listen intently. Lucien stood behind Neil, his hands buried in his pockets, an enigmatic figure in the group. As Neil sensed Lucien's presence behind him, a fleeting desire flickered within him, yearning for a comforting touch on his shoulders. But he knew better than to entertain such a wishful thought.
"Tonight I met the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life," Knox sighed, his tone heavy with longing.
"Keep it in your pants, Overstreet," Lucien's chuckle broke the tension, surprising his classmates with its depth. Neil raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Lucien's sudden shift in attitude.
"Yeah, gonna charge you for indecent exposure!" Emile added, his laughter echoing through the room.
"Are you crazy? What's wrong with that?" Neil interjected, curious about Knox's dilemma.
"She's practically engaged. To Chet Danburry," Knox lamented, his disappointment palpable. Lucien smirked at the mention of Chet's name, while Neil exchanged a knowing look with Julien and Emile.
"The guy could eat a football," Charlie remarked, expressing his distaste for Chet. Neil often shuddered at the memory of Lucien, bloodied and bruised, haunting the academy halls alongside Charlie and Emile after their altercation with the townies, including Chet.
"Too bad," Pitts chimed in, attempting to offer consolation.
"Too bad? It's worse than too bad, Pitts. It's a tragedy. A girl this beautiful in love with such a jerk?" Knox protested, his frustration evident.
"All the good ones go for jerks, you know that," Pitts remarked sagely, his words resonating with the group.
"Yeah, forget her. Open your trig book and try and figure out problem five," Cameron suggested, either attempting to distract Knox or simply disinterested in the drama. Julien laughed, offering a supportive pat on Cameron's back.
"I can't just forget her, Cameron. And I certainly can't think about trig!" Knox protested, his mind clearly elsewhere. Emile snorted loudly in agreement, shaking his head in disbelief.
"We got it!" Pitts exclaimed as his radio caught a signal, emitting loud noises that filled the room.
The entrance of Mr. Haber signaled the end of the discussion, prompting the students to gather their belongings and prepare for their next class. Lucien chatted with Julien as they exited, seemingly leaving a paper behind. Neil, curious, approached the forgotten item, wondering about its significance.
"Did you see her naked?" Charlie's laughter filled the room as he and Emile packed up their things.
"Very funny, Dalton," Knox sighed, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of the elusive beauty he had encountered.
As Neil smoothed out the crumpled paper left behind by Lucien, his eyes traced over the words with growing astonishment. It was clear that Lucien hadn't intended for anyone to stumble upon this intimate piece of writing. Yet, as Neil read on, he couldn't deny the raw talent and depth of emotion woven into the prose. Lucien's words were like a mirror reflecting the inner turmoil of someone grappling with complex feelings. It dawned on Neil that Lucien was not just a fellow student, but a remarkably gifted writer whose innermost thoughts were laid bare on the page before him.
With Todd momentarily absent, Neil seized the opportunity to absorb the words fully, leaning against the window of his bedroom window as he delved into the depths of Lucien's musings.
❝ In the quiet hours of the night, I pour my emotions onto paper, expressing both my deep affection and simmering anger towards them. In their eyes, I see a world of complexity, a mixture of love and turmoil. As I write, I grapple with the contradictions of my feelings, torn between tender longing and the weight of resentment. Despite my affection for them, there is a simmering wrath within me, a storm waiting to be unleashed. It's a somber reflection of the complexities of love, where light and darkness intertwine, leaving me in a state of silent turmoil. ❞
WRATH / Lucien Leclerc
Neil found himself at a loss, grappling with a flurry of questions and uncertainties swirling in his mind. Was Lucien's writing about him, or someone else entirely? Who were they, and did Lucien harbor resentment towards Neil? The weight of these unanswered questions left Neil feeling utterly bewildered.
The dilemma of returning the paper to Lucien weighed heavily on Neil's conscience. He couldn't shake the fear of being perceived as a snooper or thief if he were to simply slide it under the door. Yet, the thought of waiting until tomorrow to return it in person seemed equally daunting. What if tensions between them flared up again, overshadowing any chance of a peaceful exchange?
In the end, Neil resolved to seize the opportunity at dawn, when Lucien would likely emerge from his dorm in search of a moment's respite. It was then that Neil would approach him, paper in hand, and broach the delicate subject with care and understanding. Until then, he could only hope for a night of restful slumber to clear his mind and prepare him for the task ahead.
Lucien drifted into a peaceful slumber, unburdened by the weight of his worries for the first time since arriving at Welton. With his mind finally at ease, he sank into a restful sleep. Similarly, Julien found himself sleeping better, relieved to be free from the sounds of his friend's restless tossing and turning.
Emile, ever the picture of undisturbed sleep, continued his routine of dozing like a baby, unaffected by the turmoil of his friends' thoughts. Even Todd, usually plagued by nerves, found solace in sleep, his anxieties momentarily quieted as he drifted into dreams.
But for Neil, the night was far from restful. His mind raced with thoughts and uncertainties, keeping him awake long into the night. While the others found peace in slumber, Neil remained awake, grappling with the weight of his decisions and the unknown future they held.
Neil couldn't shake the feeling of intrigue as he gazed at the words spilled onto the ink-stained sheet. Was Lucien truly hurting, or was this simply his default demeanor? Was the somber tone a reflection of his true self, or was it a facade crafted for the eyes of his pen and ink alone? Was Lucien's pain a serious problem that could escalate into a tragedy if left unaddressed?
These questions swirled in Neil's mind, forming a tangled web of uncertainty and concern. He couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Lucien than met the eye, if beneath the aloof exterior lay a world of hidden emotions and untold stories. As he pondered these thoughts, Neil realized that perhaps the key to understanding Lucien lay not in deciphering his words, but in unraveling the complexities of his heart.
Neil found himself torn between different courses of action regarding the letter. Should he hold onto it, biding his time until he felt he had earned Lucien's trust enough to broach the subject? Or should he seize the opportunity and present it to him immediately, hoping it could serve as a catalyst for a deeper connection between them?
As he lay in bed, Neil weighed the pros and cons of each option. Keeping the letter could allow him to build rapport with Lucien over time, fostering a sense of trust and understanding before delving into potentially sensitive topics. On the other hand, sharing it right away might demonstrate his openness and sincerity, laying the foundation for a meaningful conversation and potentially forging a stronger bond between them.
For Neil, however, the dilemma persisted, unresolved until the morning light.