Simon

Schizophrenia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Bipolar, Delirium, Psychotic Break: It seemed that they had tried to diagnose Y/n with everything under the sun after that day. Any disorder related to hallucinations or delusions, he had taken pills for it. At one point, his parents even put him in a mental institution. None of it worked, of course. Because he wasn't crazy. They had become the black sheep of high society; The pill-popping, hallucinating, anger issues child of an aristocratic family was bound to become an outcast, though they were an outcast before the incident.

None of it mattered to Y/n. Being the only child, they were going to inherit their parents' companies no matter what, and they owned many, ranging from fine jewelry to the mines the jewels were taken from, to timber to the factories where the wood was processed. Which meant, no matter how crazy society decided Y/n was, they were practically set for life. But George was a different story. An outcast in high society for being a scholarship kid who held on to his childhood teddy bear for maybe a little bit longer than what was considered normal. Y/n always thought George was lucky. His parents found his tales of the Hundred Acre Wood endearing. His imagination was encouraged, and he was a talented young man because of it.

And though the two of them couldn't be more different, it seemed the others around them treated them as if they were one and the same. As if they were just two crazy kids making things up for attention. One would expect that the two of them being treated the same would make them close friends, finding solace in someone so similar to themselves. But they weren't. At the end of the day, no matter how crazy people thought they were, Y/n was still a privileged rich kid with a privileged rich kid ego, and the person he hated most at Penbrooke Boarding School wasn't the people who bullied him but George Karim, the scholarship kid. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Y/n hated everyone at Penbrooke, he just held a special hatred of George. Though lucky for Y/n, George didn't seem to want anything to do with them either.

So, given the two's horrible luck, it was no surprise when after summer holiday Y/n's new boarding mate was none other than George Karim. Their eyes moved from the board displaying the dormitories and each room's pair of students over to George, who was standing off to the side talking to Anthony Lockwood in that stupid red sweater Y/n hated. They had half a thought to let Dinah off her leash and let her tear the thing to shreds. Being able to bring their cat to school was one benefit of being called crazy, they supposed. Sure, it took them "accidentally" stabbing their last roommate with a pen after Y/n fell asleep working on an English paper and they tried to be nice by waking them up, but they never liked that kid anyway. Lost in thought, Y/n couldn't help as their feet carried them closer to the pair, which he soon noticed had become a trio, a brunette girl having joined them.

"Who's Y/n?" He overheard the girl ask, furrowed brows directed at Lockwood. "That would be me." Y/n's voice carried over the droning of the crowd for this stranger to hear. The three turned to face them as their attention moved onto Anthony, the other posh boy out of the four of them. "Are you collecting scholarship students now, Lockwood? You should start a club." Their voice was sharp as they sarcastically commented, and George rolled his eyes. Y/n raised a brow as they turned their attention to the curly-haired boy, eyes raking him up and down like they were scrutinizing and memorizing every detail. Dinah meowed, and it was like the tense air that was growing around them was cut. Y/n leaned down to pick up his cat, looking over the three in front of him before landing back on George.

"One chance, Karim. You fuck up, I'm throwing your bed into the lake." It was a light threat, but one that all of them knew would be followed through. George supposed it was better than being stabbed with a pen. Lockwood let out a chuckle as Y/n grabbed his suitcase and began to walk away towards the dormitories. "Good luck with that, mate." He joked, clapping George on the back, who simply rolled his eyes. "We should put our stuff in our rooms before orientation." Karim dismissed, picking up his own luggage and following after his reluctant roommate. George always had an underlying curiosity about Y/n since he got his scholarship. He wondered if there was as much truth to their tale as there was to his.

The dorms weren't as luxurious as George thought they would be, considering the status of the school's attendants. Each room came stocked with two twin XLs fitted with cotton sheets, an expensive duvet cover, and a velvet quilt folded at the foot for the colder seasons, along with mini fridges below the small desks at the foot of each bed. Y/n hated the expensively fitted yet bare rooms. The rabbits embossed in the off white wallpaper seemed to mock him as he unpacked his bag. At least Dinah was already making herself comfortable on the velvet quilt, ignoring her owner's constant and obvious irritation. Y/n turned, leaning against the desk to stare at the identical other side of the room.

"Why do you keep that thing?" Y/n asked as they watched George place that stupid bear plush on the head of his bed. George turned to him, "It reminds me of home." He answered like it were the most plain and obvious answer in the world. "You're parents really let you keep that thing?" Y/n rephrased his question, and George shrugged, "Yeah, why wouldn't they?" Y/n shook his head, "Because we're not little kids anymore." "Fondness isn't just for children. That's part of what makes people love one another, like our parents, for example." Y/n scoffed, and George furrowed his brows, "What?" "I don't think my parents ever loved each other, let alone felt fond of something."

"Is that why your mom sent your dad away?" Y/n furrowed his brows in anger, "Excuse me?" George shrugged, "I mean, everyone speaks about it as fact. That your father went mad, like how they say you're mad. That's why he was sent away to the asylum, isn't it? Your mother didn't love him enough to be able to handle his madness." Y/n stormed across the room, holding George by the collar of that stupid red sweater. "How dare you. What makes you think you have the right to speak about him or me like that!" Dinah let out a chortle at the sudden yelling. "People like them can talk all they want. But people like you? You'd be lucky if I let you lick my boot." George looked from their face to their hands fisted in his sweater. "You have an anger problem." "I have a you problem," Y/n growled out through his teeth as he pushed George away.

They paused in the middle of the room as George adjusted the collar of his sweater, eyes dancing over the room as they thought over what they had just done and said. Their gaze stopped on George, eyes darting over him several times before they moved to pick up Dinah. They turned back to him, mouth opening and closing before they spoke. "I'm going for a walk."

The next time the two saw each other was at lunch. Though classes hadn't officially started yet, the school still offered lunch as a way for the students to get reacquainted with the living accommodations. "I can't believe they blew up at you like that," Lucy said about his recounting of his first experience sharing a dorm with the school's terror. Lockwood scoffed in amusement, "I'm surprised he survived this long." George didn't move to defend himself. Instead, his eyes scanned the dining hall for the very terror he had just brought up. "They're not that bad, just..." He trailed off as his eyes landed on Y/n. Lockwood raised a brow as he waited for his friend to finish his sentence. The Y/n he saw was not the Y/n he was used to hearing about.

Their stance was ever-practiced perfectness, shoulders straight and head high, but peeking through every crack in their performance was an antsiness. Brows furrowed, not in anger but in sharp analysis, the nervous tick in their pinky finger as they tapped it against their tray. Lucy was the first to turn to see what George was so distracted by. He swallowed hard when she turned to spare him a glance before taking action, holding back a cringe as she stood and waved them over. Lockwood let out a groan as he rubbed his temples to wave away the inevitable headache that would approach alongside Y/n. "Come sit with us." Lucy accompanied the invitation with a warm smile.

George couldn't deny that Lucy had a smile that held the warmth of the sun, a warmth that may have melted the ice around Lockwood's heart, but he doubted it would do anything against the stone that shrouded Y/n's. And he was right. Y/n didn't say anything as they looked between the three, half a frown drawing onto his face as he sat next to Lockwood and across from George. The few people who had sat near them went into near instant silence as if anticipating an explosion. "So, how was your holiday, Y/n?" Lucy cut through the silence with sugary kindness. Their eyes moved from George over to the brunette girl seated next to him. "It was fine," They snapped back. The absence of their beloved cat was obvious with the newfound tenseness in Y/n's demeanor.

"Did you do anything fun?" Lucy pried, Anthony's cautious side-eye trying to mentally tell her not to cross the circle of salt that surrounded Y/n's composure. "No." They responded, voice deadpan as they picked up their fork to pick at the shepherd's pie on their plate. "Well, I took a fencing class over the summer. It's actually how I met Lockwood and George." Lucy went on until Y/n stabbed their fork into the pie so hard that the other utensils on the table shook from the force. Lucy shot up straight as Y/n let go of the fork and turned to Lockwood. "It seems I've lost my appetite. Enjoy your charity cases, Anthony." The room went near silent, and Y/n stood and left. Lucy let out a scoff of disbelief. "What's their problem?"