The Forbidden Spare

Regulus stood there, stock still, for what felt like an eternity, but in reality probably only lasted a few seconds. Two sets of eyes were glued to him, clearly waiting for his imput.

He cleared his throat. «I think you’re both forgetting that you haven’t actually explained anything to me yet…» He let the sentence trail off, waiting for one of the adults to explain why they basically summoned him away from a very important exam, that he would most likely have to make up for at a later date.

‘Ugh’ Regulus groaned internally at the realization, but didn’t let it show.

The look of realization passed over Mr. Locke’s features. «Oh, but of course!! You see, Mr. Beaumont, Miss Black is a highly respected representative sent from one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the Scottish Highlands!!!» And there they were, the jazz hands…

He was really desperate to lighten the mood, huh?

Regulus gave a little nod, turning his attention to Miss Black, while plastering on a well practiced smile, similar to one’s seen exchanged between collegues, before speaking. “ I see. I have defifnetely heard some pretty impressive things about the schools in that area. My english litterature teacher has certainly sung their praise on several occasions.  It’s a pleasure to make your aquaintence, Miss Black. I do wonder, what was so urgent that they had to send someone all the way to Llanwrtyd Wells? I’m sure I haven’t received any E-mails or prior notice. I must say I’m  a bit surprised» His smile turned bashful as he scratched the back of his head, looking a bit caught offguard.

He wasn’t.

The message was clear enough.

Why are you here? Why wasn’t I given prior notice? I feel cornered and annoyed.

Miss Black’s long, black nails dug into her palms, as she fisted her hand in her dress, facial expression never wavering.

She tilted her head to the side, with a contemplative look overtaking her features. “ Let’s just say ‘e-mail’ is not our… preferred method of correspondence…”

Now that was just strange. Most schools use e-mails like their own personal info dumps. Even the smallest and most unnecessary details where mixed inn with the inportant shite for no other reason than to induce stress and burning hatred, within the depths of each students soul, for the school system. Regulus’s own inbox was filled to the brim almost daily with notifications ranging from the next day’s lunch menu to the nearing deadline of their upcoming assignment (that was worth a quarter of their final grade that term, mind you). Their clear dependancy of it was honestly a bit redundant, so the the fact that their ‘prestigious and supirior’ private boarding school was so behind on the technological side of things was a bit concerning.

He gave Miss Black a polite aknowledging nod, before directing his attention back to the principal, who looked like he was about thirty seconds away from visibly sweating through his outer suit jacket.

Principal Locke let out a long breath. “I’m glad you seem to have a good amount of knowledge about their school and have a reather good impression on their character, my boy. Since they’ve definetely developed an interest in you.” He looked like he was trying to get Regulus to take the hint.

He did.

But he figured since his entire day and schedule had been thrown off it’s fucking rocker and he was in a particularly crappy mood, might as well not make this entire thing too easy.

“Ahhh, right” Regulus noded in understanding. The principal leaned back on his seat with a slow smile spreading across his face, while Miss Black looked at him approvingly, both seeming satisfied with his reaction.

Regulus turned his full attention to Miss Black. “You must be here to speak with me regarding my most recent english lit paper. Did you come all the way here, to ask for my permission personally, to post it in your school’s news letter? You guys really are thorough. I’m impressed.” He gave her a charming smile, or tried to at least. Her eyebrows drew together, creating a noticable crease between them, her eyes showing a hint of confusion, while the rest of her face stayed stoic.

Mr. Locke, on the other hand, almost toppled out of his chair. Both him and the visitor turned their full attention towards the principal. His eyes were wide as as saucers and his eyebrows were raised so high they almost reached his hairline

“Wh-what?” He spluttered.

“Well, some my research- and, most frequently, english lit papers have been featured in several news letters form different schools in Britain. They usually just send me an e-mail asking for my consent, but I guess you guys have a very different way of doing things. Unless this is a special case, in which case, I feel very honored.” Regulus put a hand on on the left side of his chest, over his heart and gave a slight bow.

Was he having a bit too much fun with this? Maybe.

Mr. Locke wiped his brow. “I have no doubt that your papers are anything less that excellent, but that’s not what we had in mind to discuss with you when we called you in here, Mr.Beaumont.” His eyes seemed to drift in all different directions around the office until they eventually landed on Miss. Black.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Black actually travelled all the way here to offer you a scholarship! They’ve been on the lookout for some talent and think you would fit in perfectly!!!”

Yeah, no, not gonna happen

It’s not like he was ungrateful for the opurtuinity, if anything,he was rather flattered. There was just something about Miss. Black that didn’t sit completely right with him. She had that look in her eyes. The « I know something you don’t know, which automatically makes me feel supirior to you in every way humanly possible and I’m going rub it in your face every chance I get» look. This enire situation was peculiar…

Regulus had no plans on enrolling in some posh boarding school in the middle of nowhere. He actually liked his hometown, and sure, maybe his school wasn’t the best and didn’t challenge him academicly, but it was the closest to his house and was a short walk from his part-time job.

So, there was no way in hell he was just gonna drop everything just for some school he knew nothing about.

Regulus looked up, not having realized his gaze had turned downcast. “Can I have some time to consider my answer. I’m still a minor, so I will need to discuss this thoroughly with my guardian.” He was going to decline, but not here and not now. Miss Black didn’t look like the type to take no for an answer and Regulus was not in the mood to get into a debate with her.

Mr. Locke’s face positively lit up, probably taking his vague arse answer as a yes. “Well, of course, Mr. Beaumont!! We understand that this is a very important descision that can’t be made on a whim. Miss Black will be staying in town for three weeks, so you have plenty of time to consider your options.” He looked so excited, he was almost vibrating. Guess the school was more famous than Regulus had originally thought.

“I look forward to hearing your response, Mr. Bl-…Beaumont.” Miss Black said, looking like she had just smelled something absolutely revolting. Regulus had honstly forgotten she was even there. Well, he would have, if it weren’t for her unnerving presence that seemed to demand attention. Pretty much impossible to ignore, she stood out too much, not fitting the image of a ‘highly respected representative form a prestigious boarding school’. Not by a mile. Her black dress was so long, If it weren’t for her heels, it would have touched the floor. The style was a bit gothic, but still somehow elegant. Looking a bit like she came straight out of the 1800’s.

“I’ll keep in touch.” Regulus turned around, heading towanrds the door. As he was about to turn the doorhandle, he felt a hand hastily grab his shoulder, turning his body around in haste. “Take these, my boy and take the rest of the day off, we’ve held you here long enough haven’t we?” Mr. Locke said with a chuckle, his eyes bright, but oddly not the same brown they had always been. Now they seemed to be tinted green near the border of his pupils. It was almost unoticable and seemed to disapear almost instantly, but Regulus caught it.

“Have a good rest of your day!” Mr. Locke shoved a boquet of what looked like daisies into his hands and then proceeded to spin him back around. Regulus stepped out the door, not looking back in fear of seeing daisies spontaiously sprout out of his principal’s ears or something equally strange. He spent a few moments outside the office processing what had just happened before realizing he was done wasting his time and started walking towards the school’s front exit.

He also didn’t want to stay standing there, in case Miss Black decided to cut her visis short. Meeting her again outside the office was just about the last thing he wanted.

After spotting his bike in the nearby distance, Regulus started walking towards it, trying to figure out a way to carry the flowers that would hopefully result in them staying completely in tact during the journey. He wasn’t a plant person by any means, but his mum had given him enough lectures about the importance of plant life for him to, almost instinctivly, try to think of ways to elongate their lifespan.

Regulus decided to head straight to the record store. His shift wouldn't normally start until later, but it wouldn't hurt to just get a head start on his tasks for the day. Now, with a plan in mind, he got on his bike and rode towards an all too familiar direction.

As soon as he walked through the entrance, Eli came rushing towards him. “Aww, Reg. You shouldn’t have.” He cooed, making a grab for the bouquet. He took a long sniff, then releaesed a satisfied exhale.

“Actually, I didn’t” Regulus muttered, closing the door behind him and readjusting some cd’s that had clearly fallen victim to the tornado of energy that was his boss.

“Too sweet for words.” Eli replied, without sparing him a glance, as he walked towards the front desk and started rummaging trough some of the junk he had laying around. Regulus had given up on trying to convince him to tidy the place up a bit more.

“Reggieeeee, it adds character! It’s punk! I’m not a damn accountant! Not everything needs to be categorized and color coded and shit.” Was the reply he always got and if it was anywhere near morning, Eli would also flipp him off for good measure.

His boss, Eli, was an old friend of his mum’s, who had basically been like an uncle to Regulus growing up. He was usually very laid back, but when it came to his music, he became a stubborn arsed lunatic (he made Regulus study all his favourite bands and then quizzed him on them for about two hours before allowing him to work at the record store). Apparantly, his Kurt cobain knowledge was downright laughable, but he decided to take pity on his sorta-nephew.

The dick

Now he knows more about the “late 60s to early 80s punk/ rock genre” than he ever wanted to, but the pay was good, he got a lot of work experience and the music wasn’t half bad. Eli had been teaching him how to play the bass since he was a toddler, so sometimes when things where quiet at the store (which was pretty much always) he would just sit and strum Eli’s vintage bass, that apparantley used to belong to his bandmate and secret lover back in the day.

Regulus had been around eleven years old when he first found a picture of his uncle with an unnamed mystery-man. Eli, who had been walking by, stopped and inched a bit closer to see what the kid was doing. “Hey, kid! Whatcha got the-…” He glanced at the picture, then back at Regulus, a sly grin spreading across his face. “What can I say? I swing both ways.” He gave a little wink before continuing his walk.

As Regulus continued to stack the cd’s back to their rightful places, Eli seemed to have found something to hold the flowers, judging by the satisfied hum that could be heard coming from his direction. As Regulus turned back around, he was greeted by the most atrocius vase he had ever layed his eyes on. It was black and purple with writing that said “Don’t like my music? Suck my fat cock” In what looked like graffitti style writing.

Regulus groaned, loud enough for his boss to hear from across the room, where he had moved to at some point while Regulus had his back turned. “What?”. He had a huge grin plastered across his face with one eyebrow raised high. “It’s one of my most prized posessions.” He turned and looked at the vase fondly, making a gesture with his hand like he wanted to reach out and stroke it.

Regulus rolled his eyes so hard, he thought they might get stuck at the back of his scull.

“Come on, mini me! Have a sense of humor.” Eli exclaimed, looking all too pleased with himself. He had started calling Regulus that after being mistaken for his dad on several occasions by tourists and newcomers that had just recently moved into town. Regulus, as much as he wanted to, couldn’t deny their obvious resemblence.

Eli had long, dark curly hair, sharp jawline and cheekbones with a a goatee that should have looked ridiculous, but he was handsome enough to pull it off. Whereas Regulus was deathly pale, Eli was a bit more tan. His mum was colombian and his dad was welsh. All of his tattoos were from a Thai tattoo artist he had met on tour in his 20s, called Pichai, who was the only guy Eli ever trusted enough to ink him. Regulus could understand why. The tattoos were very intricate and beautifully done, each one taking several sessions  and many hours.

Eli was getting off the latter and heading towards the front dest, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, walked slowly backwards toward where he had passed Regulus on his way, looked him up and down before raing a singular eyebrow.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school right about now, kid?” He made a move to check his wrist, before realizing he never wears a wrist watch. When he looked up, there was an almost proud look forming in his expression.

“No, I did not skip school. I got permission from the principal- well, more like he pushed me out of his office and gave me the rest of the day off.” Regulus had started making his way towards the front dest, retreiving his name-tag from one of the drawers. They where filled, practically to the brim, with keys and random trinckets.

Eli grinned. “Guess they got tired of your nerdy, know-it-all arse.” He shrugged his shoulders in false sympathy.

Regulus scoffed, with humor. “Yeah, guess that’s why they’re so eager to pimp me out to another school.” He said, absentmindedly, as he sat down and began sorting the guitar picks.

Eli looked at him intently. “… Yeah, listen. I’m gonna need more info than that, kid, if you want my stellar advice for whatever teenage bullcrap you’re obviously going through.”

Regulus sighed. He was tired and honstly just wanted this day to be over. “It’s nothing too serious.” He set the picks aside, then grabbed an old stack of records and started sorting them with practiced ease. “ I’ll have a chat with mum about it when I get home.”

“Whatever you say, kid. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Hey, now that you’re here, mind holding the place down for a bit?” Eli said, as he swiftly put on his old leather jacket and heading back to the storage room muttering about needing to grab something.

He was back within about a minute with his hair tied in a messy manbun and stuffing a pack of cigarettes into his jeans pocket. Regulus looked up, having finished sorting the records, in time to see his boss speeding past him. “I haven’t even answered yet, you prick.” The door slammed shut, but he could hear Eli’s yell from outside. “That’s my employee of the month!!” Regulus could hear the grin in his tone.

The dick

The rest of his shift went by smoothly, if not a bit slowly. There weren’t many customers, besides the occasional curious onlooker or teen rushing in, shoving their new electric guitar in his face, babbling, looking as if they were about to burst into tears, about how it was ruined. Regulus had waited for them to calm down, before informing them that one of the strings broke, but it was fixable.

Regulus had just said his farewell to a customer, he had helped pick out an album for her boyfriend, when he checked the clock and realized it was closing time. Eli hadn’t come back, but Regulus, who was used to his spontaneous attidude, just sett everything in place and packed his things.

As he glanced out the display window, Regulus noticed that it had started pouring. Realizing he hadn’t brought an umbrella with him, he went to check the storage. Unfortunately, there was not a single umbrella in sight. He leth out an annoyed huff and mentally prepared himself for the ride home, knowing he would most likely drown under the heavy spray.

Fucking great

Regulus stood there with his school bag in hand, staring at his helmet, before reluctantly putting it on and walking out the door.