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Why should he come here? He’d been convinced it was a school for people like him. Maybe you’ll finally meet someone? his father’s words swirled in his head. He nodded in thought at the memory of the phrase with which he had bid him farewell before Grégorie boarded the train “toward a new future.” It did not abound in gold and lavish raptures of triumph. The destiny into whose maw he was now heading was more like a deep ditch filled to the brim with sticky substance.
He now felt as if he had just waded through it as he slalomed his way past a pack of students engrossed in engaging debates. Grégorie was carrying in his weary hand all his equipment: a large suitcase that was bulging dangerously due to the amount of stuff packed into it. This made it difficult for him to get to his room. If it wasn’t bad enough, it was on the second floor. After a few collisions with some students and mumbled apologies, he managed to squeeze into the marble staircase. It was intimidating in its grandeur and reflective splendor - polished to the core. Which was astonishing, considering how many pairs of dirty shoes had had to skip down it each day. Grégorie wiped droplets of sweat from his forehead and reluctantly began to climb the steps.
“Room 168, room 168? Where the h*ll is it?” Grégorie paced ferally through the hallway in search of his dormitory. The hall, like the entire establishment, sparkled with Renaissance marble. It gave the impression of a rich, prestigious place, albeit with a hint of homely warmth. Grégorie, in a more relaxed state, would probably have marveled at the chic aesthetics of the building. He would have compared the architecture to that which he had seen in his books. Or look at it based on his experiences from his Italian travels when he strolled the narrow streets of Rome. Now, his vision was obscured by sleep and fatigue. His eyes were getting heavy, and all that rang in his brain were those three numbers: 168. Sometimes, he had to look at one number plate several times as if to make sure he hadn’t definitely missed that sought-after, coveted door. His mind played tricks on him and made him forget what numbers he had seen. Finally, after running around for what seemed like an eternity, he found the door. With relief, he turned the key in the golden lock.
The room was small, but it did not induce an attack of claustrophobia. One could say it was just right, and those were the words Grégorie had used when he saw the apartment for the first time. He looked around the interior, simple and neat. Two beds caught his eye. One was bedded like in a hotel; the other was made too, but much less skillfully. Grégorie squirmed. He realized that his roommate had already managed to settle in here. The boy would have preferred to live alone for at least the first month. To get used to the new place, get acquainted, set the rules. All those privileges fell on his roommate now… it will be Grégorie who will have to follow HIS laws, because in high school, just like in the jungle - first come, first served.
He was looking for positives in this arrangement. Perhaps he was wrong. There was a circumstance in which his roommate will not turn out to be a ruthless despot. There was a possibility that he had already found his company, and it was with his friends that he will spend most of his free time. Grégorie will become an almost invisible character to him, appearing only during the day and night, sometimes in the hallway. Who knows… maybe they won’t even see each other in class? Grégorie taxied the room looking for a piece of paper that resembled a schedule… unfortunately, he found nothing of the sort. Fortunately, he seems to be reasonably neat…, he thought involuntarily.
He realized that it would probably be his roommate who would take the honor of giving him a tour of the Academy. Grégorie was not at all eager to do so.
He glanced at his watch on his phone, bitterly realizing that the lesson had long since begun. Because the d*mn train was delayed, he missed it. He knew that arriving here would be fraught with a series of unfortunate events. He could indeed show up late. But given his disastrous appearance, he would not make a desirable first impression on the students or the teacher in particular. He will simply go to the principal’s office after lunch. His absence will unquestionably be understood.
For now, he needed to unpack and take a hot shower.
There are people like you there.
His father’s words wailed in his ears as he glided slowly towards the cafeteria. Some people had already taken care of all sorts of dishes while chatting thunderously. He had a palette of various characters before him - colorful, enchanted, intriguing. He recognized some of them. From their faces, they resembled their parents, about whom he had heard legends and stories. Each had a different history, past, abilities - a reputation to uphold. Him? His father didn’t even have a shred of dignity, let alone a reputation. He felt he didn’t belong here - in this group of people like him.
His moccasins tapped rhythmically on the floor as he moved in line, closer and closer to the counter where the food was ordered. He was hungry as a wolf and would have loved to order everything on the menu, but he knew that would have been greedy stupidity. He decided on pasta with tomato sauce. Nutritious and cheap at the same time. Grégorie didn’t want to spend, God knows how much. He wasn’t short of money, but he preferred to save it for a better occasion.
He didn’t miss the booth where students gathered in a frenzy to buy tickets for the annual welcome party. Grégorie snorted. He had no intention of attending, not that it would matter. He had already planned for himself to catch up with his lessons that day - the school year had already started, he had just arrived a few days later. The dormitories would be deserted, so no one would bother him.
With a plate in his hand, he looked around for an empty seat. One that wasn’t occupied by his ‘colleagues’. At the back, at the very end of the room, stood a solitary table. It did not look inviting, which was why it was being avoided. Grégorie shrugged his shoulders, and it was there that he sat down. He put his headphones into his ears, played jazz music, and quietly began to eat the hearty pasta garnished with Parmesan cheese.
He didn’t think anyone would join him. At least, he hoped so in spirit.
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and I had to go out. So if I need to edit this or you got ideas, lemme know. I shwill return.
I loved that 
