feel alive

Nicolas continued to play, eyes closed, wanting to block out all of his senses that wouldn’t help him experience the music fully. Swaying to the tune he was pulling from the violin, keeping it in time with the song flowing from his headphones. His parents had wanted him to take lessons, but it had never taken off like they had hoped. He played the full nine minute song, letting the music animate his body; his elbow jabbing back and forth rapidly for a while as he dragged the bow along the strings, before taking shorter movements for the quieter part of the concerto. He finished with a big sigh, dropping both hands to his sides, holding the neck of the violin in his left, and the bow lazily with his right. He opened his eyes and turned to see a girl on the floor working on something. “Oh!” he pulled an earbud out of his ear and let it dangle down his chest, the other playing Spring. “Hi,” Nico laughed, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. 

“Exactly,” Blake shook his head, slightly amused by the fact that they were stuck with the assignment anyway. It’d give him a reason to hang out with Eloise though; not that Hook was bad at worming his way into peoples’ lives. “The one the school’s putting on? Yeah, thought it might be fun. You?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, exactly! Must be a scare tactic for the younger kids. Doing it in our class is just stupid; some people our age are married with real babies already.” He could see how it might scare fifteen year olds into holding off, but not with twenty year olds. Blake finished his cig and toed it into the path as they walked along, and veered off towards Golden Hall.

Blake shrugged; he didn’t need to get into it more than that his father was the one that named the ship and not himself. He would’ve gone with something a little darker perhaps, not including the word ‘jolly’ in its fearsome name. “It can sleep on the bed in my room, I don’t use it.” He commented, not minding keeping it in his dorm, at least for one of the nights. “It’s just a doll, how much could it possibly need?” Blake wondered aloud, taking another drag and steering them towards his dorm.

Blake flicked the lighter and lit up, taking in the first drag like he’d been without it for a whole week, when in reality it’d only been about an hour. “I didn’t name the bloody thing, my dad did. The Jolly Roger. You know, like the flag,” he explained, flicking his ash away from them. He gave a short breathed laugh at her last comment before taking another drag. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He replied curtly, not wanting to get into every sordid detail, and every bit of agony his dad had put him through. 

“You should get one,” Blake chuckled; he didn’t know much about party boats like a yacht, but the ocean was always a good idea. “Paris? There’s much more in Paris than there is on the Roger,” he commented. “You can walk the whole ship in thirty minutes; Paris, I assume, takes a bit longer, and has more culture than a brood of pirates,” he added, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a lighter and cigarette. “You mind?” he asked, swiveling slightly to hand the doll to her, it’s head pressed between his chest and elbow. 

Blake chuckled when she said she wasn’t sure why she’d asked. The school ranged from fourteen year old kids to mid twenties; it was nice to know people your own age he supposed. “Erm, Ireland I guess? My mum was at least. I grew up at sea,” he replied. He’d found saying he was from Neverland caused people to either roll their eyes thinking he was taking the piss, or to ask him questions about Peter, both things that caused his blood to boil. “You?” He asked, though he was pretty sure that was a soft, French lilt on her tongue.

Blake cracked a crooked grin and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Eh,” he uttered, not quite sure how to answer. To say some huge number didn’t seem like the best course of action, and either way, he’d been around so long that he couldn’t even remember his actual age. “Twenty two,” he decided on, as that was the age he’d told the school when they got him situated with an ID. Should’ve said older; then maybe they wouldn’t have made him stay. “What about you?” 

Blake groaned and threw his hands up. “Ooh, you caught me,” he started to say, and nearly dropped the doll. He cursed and flailed slightly, trying to catch it mid air. He bounced it off his hands twice before catching it by the feet. “I’m really not the parent type,” he chuckled, sitting it up right. “But I wouldn’t do that to ya,” he added to dissuade any fears. 

Blake sighed. He was used to life on the open sea, with no one (save his father) to tell him what to do; it was a life he’d gotten used to, and one he hadn’t wanted to leave behind quite yet. Sure, he’d like to one day have a ship of his own away from his father’s tyranny, but school? That was not something in his five year plan. “I’ve got some rum stashed in my dorm. You like rum?” Blake asked, cocking a brow. 

Blake chuckled at her adlib, and walked through the classroom door. He grinned down at the blonde as she caught up. “Yeah well, getting a little stuffy in that classroom if you ask me,” he commented. They’d told him he had to go to his classes; never told him he had to stay for the whole thing. “You drink?” He asked, heading down the long hall, freedom drawing closer as they neared the glass doors to the outside.

Blake shrugged, tapping his fingers on the desk. “My sister’s probably around. Worst case scenario, we just take the little monster with us. Like this,” Hook stood up, chair grating across the linoleum, picked up the doll and tucked it under his arm haphazardly. Their teacher looked up, a frown of confusion on their face, as Blake patted Eloise’s arm in a ‘follow me’ manner. “We’ve got to go get this thing baptized,” he explained, heading for the door.

Blake laughed as she did and leaned back in his seat a bit, their initial meeting fading into the background. Forgetting for a moment that they were in class, he tapped his pencil on the desk top and glanced at it and then back to her. “Want to get out of here? We could hire a sitter for the night,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows at her. 

Veronica scanned the room, eyes not focusing properly as she did so. Across the room, and through the noise and lights, she spotted a curly haired guy leaning against the back wall. Extending her arm and pointing quite conspicuously at him, Ronnie nodded to Eloise. “Him! He looks like fun,” she giggled, dropping her arm to her waist. It was just then that the guy shoved another guy and started a fist fight that was broken up by a security guard. “Quick, let’s follow!” She said quick and loud, grabbing Ellie by the arm and starting to pull her through the throng of partiers to follow the guard leading the boys out.

“I wonder if he’d come meet us,” Ronnie thought aloud, pulling out her phone and shakily trying to text him. It came out ‘comb club xx x’ and, not even sending it, she pocketed it and grinned sneakily, like he’d know what that meant and would show up immediately. “Let’s find you someone,” she murmured, looking around the club intently, her vision doubling in the flashing lights.

It took Blake a second to realize what she was doing, and his frown turned into an amused smirk for a moment before taking up the game. “Jesus, one’ve us has got to make a living! You’re at home all day, can’t you rest when he sleeps?” He asked, purposely sounding off as the ignorant husband. “Think I’m not exhausted when I get home too? Six days a week I’m in that office, and what do I get when I come home? Nag, nag, nag,” he rolled his eyes and huffed, before laughing and pulling the doll closer by the leg. “Are we even sure he’s mine?” He asked, propping up the very dark skinned bot.