KING OF SPADES CHAPTER 1

All that could be heard in the exam hall was the sound of pen scraping, paper shuffling, the airconditioner, and footsteps as teachers walked up and down the aisles between the seats. Well, to everyone else, that was. August, on the other hand, could hear much more, such as electricity humming, clothes rustling, and the mild, barely detectable breeze outside the closed window. Even from the back row, he could pick up on the sounds of people fidgeting with their hair. It was annoying, sure, but he was afraid of people staring if he went up and asked for noise cancelling headphones or earplugs.

August West feared a lot of things. Some more normal things, such as scorpions, sudden darkness, and some horror movies. Then there were the maybe not-so-ordinary things, like having personal conversations with his mother, interacting with his classmates further than little nods and greetings, and conversation with his sister. Thoughts of his Astra sent him down another thought spiral. She had been acting much more distant than usual, closeting herself away in her room, keeping herself locked in solitary confinement. The sudden change concerned him, causing him to overthink. Had he done something to offend her? Or was she possibly going through depression, or-

“Five minute call! Five minutes until the test time is over!”

Panic drove its vicious claws into August’s chest. He had spent far too much time pondering on matters that weren’t even important to the current moment, which was his last GCSE maths exam. Hastily turning his attention back to his paper, he picked up his pen from where he had dropped it. There were twelve questions left, luckily fairly simple ones. Gears in his brain turning as fast as they could, he powered through all twelve, leaving just enough time to read through all his answers again. Barely finishing his final checkthrough before the bell rang, he let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Mr. West!” a teacher snapped, “Stay silent until all the papers have been collected!” He glared at August, causing all heads to turn in his direction. Mortified, the brunette stuttered out an apology which was choked with a half-sob. Everyone was staring at him, he could feel their eyes boring into his skull like several laser beams in sci-fi movies, burning through the bone and into his brain, causing heat to rise up to his face, tinting it red. The moment the teachers gave the students permission to leave, he took off running down the hall to the bathroom. Tears welling up in his eyes, he slammed the door shut, leaning against the closed door, face buried in his hands.

“Why am I so sensitive?” he muttered to himself, walking over to the sink and splashing some water on his face. Making sure not to cry again, he wiped off the water with his sleeve and smoothed back his hair again. Head held high, but not too high to avoid looking pretentious, August strode out of the bathroom on the way to the cafeteria. He could worry about his feelings all he wanted back at home in his room, but at school, his image mattered. The very thought of his peers mocking him sent waves of terror crashing violently into his system. That was absolutely unacceptable. He had been maintaining a relatively decent reputation in his school for years, and he absolutely could not let all that go tumbling down because of something a teacher he didn’t even know the name of said.

Upon arriving in the large hall, he quickly navigated his way through the bustling room to get to his usual corner seat by the window exposing the view of the school’s courtyard, a wide, circular area encased in stone veneer walls with several doors leading into it. It was at the heart of the school, all the school buildings surrounding it. Complete with a decorative fountain in the middle of the grass, strips of stone path reaching out from it like rays of light, the Central Circle, although its name lacked creativity, gave a classy, green feel to the campus. It was, however, usually crowded, students taking up every square inch of the edge of the fountain as well as the benches, sadly preventing August from sitting outside in the Circle for lunch. Sure, he wouldn’t mind sitting on the grass, but he was afraid of being reprimanded for dirtying his uniform trousers, which were a light beige that stained quite easily.

August’s thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of laughter coming from a table not too far from him. Accidentally making eye contact with one of the girls briefly, he looked away, only to hear his name being muttered from that table accompanied by a few words, then a round of snickering. Holding back tears for the second time that day, he went back to his lunch, head hung low. He brought his own lunch, mostly because his family wasn’t in the best financial situation, most of their money going to his tuition fees. Unlike his sister, he went to a private school, one that was specifically dedicated to gifted students. Astra hadn’t made the cut.

He preferred packing his own lunch, so he was fine with it, it allowed him to spend less time waiting and more time eating, as well as have more control over what he ate each day. Thoughts wandering to the day’s calorie and nutrition count, August poked at his salad, scooping up a small crouton from a batch of many he had made a week prior with some old bread. He had eaten a single bagel with cream cheese. The bagel itself had about two hundred calories, but as for the cream cheese, he couldn’t be sure as he had no means to exactly measure out how much he was adding, although he didn’t put on too much, if his memory served correctly. Or was that yesterday? Anxiously, he fiddled with his fork, hesitantly placing the crouton in his mouth, chewing, and swallowing. Poking around the salad halfheartedly, he decided to just leave the fork in the container and shut it, stowing it away in his bag. He had lost much of his appetite through exam nerves.

August West was also fragile. Easy to make cry, to break. Like a solitary raindrop crashing through the air, free-falling with the potential to hit something and shatter into thousands of pieces at any given moment. But there were things completely unlike a raindrop in his character. No one ever bothers with individual drops of rain except the very first and last, but he stuck out far too much for his liking. The smart kid, the “prodigy”, the “gifted” kid, the “genius…” It was nice to have a good reputation, yes, but the pressure to uphold it, and the troubles that came with it were an expensive price to pay. August had a crown, one he was slowly having more and more trouble bearing the weight of. Especially in a school like his, a student’s reputation and living up to it meant everything. It was a fairly prestigious establishment, rather high up in the rankings, and classified as one of the best schools for learning with the IB curriculum. The student body predominantly made up of smart, talented youth, it almost amazed August that he was among the best in his year group, but also made him anxious about maintaining that title.

BING BONG BING

The musical sound of the school bell snapped him from his thoughts. Scooping up his backpack, he got to his feet, letting his feet guide him to the debate extracurricular classroom. It was a half-day, meaning classes had finished just before lunch, but he, among quite a few others, stayed at school for afterschool clubs or activities. He loved debating with a passion, and he had since the first after-school session. After being told he had a natural aptitude for it, August grew to enjoy it even more, taking pride in each debate he won, but on the flip side, being nearly devastated upon losing one. Debate, in a way, resembled his process each day of hiding his insecurities, fears, and weak points to the best of his ability. The point, and he, was a wall. One riddled with holes, cracks, creeping vegetation threatening to crumble the structure, mouse holes, and more. Some arguments had less, the same way some people were less insecure than others. The presentation of his points, his outward behaviour and words, were like a curtain of sorts, to cover up the flaws in the wall. The curtain can wear down over time, or be opened with enough force, but if it was left alone, the illusion would hold for as long as he wanted to.

August West thought a lot. Too much, some people may say. Sometimes he would overthink so much that he habitually did things that made him sick. Chewing on his nails and the skin around them, for example. Or taking big gulps of air and swallowing it. They were all subconscious actions, and he rarely realised what he was doing until someone pointed it out or he caught himself doing it when he tuned back into the real, at the moment world around him. He made a conscious effort to control it when his mind wasn’t on other things, but when they were… Oh dear, he was doing it again. Puffing up his cheeks then swallowing the air, over and over.

Despite his efforts to stop, he ended up taking smaller, less frequent gulps instead. Upon arriving at the classroom where after school debate was held, August took his usual seat at the back of the class, sliding his bag off his fatigued shoulders and onto the ground with as little noise as possible as to not draw attention to himself. While no one was watching, he turned his head to the window showing the view of the corridor, discreetly checking the concealer under his eyes in the reflection. He was too insecure to not cover up his dark circles and other blemishes, no matter how mild, but at the same time, far too self-conscious to make it obvious he wore makeup. Fearing people would mock him, call him effeminate, or not take him seriously for it, August hid the fact from everyone except his sister.

Just as he turned away from the window, something caught his eye. Two people in a hallway of almost none, speed-walking as they spoke animatedly. One of them wearing the uniform, but the other wearing what appeared to be a recreation of it that he just managed to notice the slightly off details of. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the pair. He was familiar with the one in uniform, Octavia Demant, a quiet student who kept to herself who he had heard speak maybe six words since they first met. She had joined just this year. Having been in charge of showing her around the school on her first day, August had experienced firsthand how awkward it got in her company, how loud the silence felt, so it was a shock to see her speaking so much.

Blinking, he realised they had stopped walking. The unfamiliar one, a snow blond haired boy about his age with deathly pale skin and brilliant red eyes, placed his hands firmly on Octavia’s shoulders and slowly spoke a few words that August managed to lip-read. You can’t hide here forever. Curious, he slipped his bag back on, creeping outside the classroom to hear what was going on, but by the time he stepped out the door, they were gone, running down a flight of stairs that led to the building exit. Soundlessly, he followed them down, staying just out of sight. It was none of his business, sure, but he wanted to know why there was someone posing as a student practically dragging someone off campus.

They went off campus, just to circle around the outside, walking into the woods behind it. Frowning, August followed them more hesitantly, recalling rumours that were popular with the whole town that the forest was haunted. Many people had seen figures that seemed almost monstrous or ghostly among those dark, towering trees. Even his father, a down-to-earth man who had rarely made jokes during his life, had claimed to have seen one. Stupid August, he thought to himself, shaking his head slightly, Dad had hallucinations. He was probably influenced by those rumours… Hurrying to catch up, he wove between the vegetation, careful not to make too much noise. A musty, woodsy smell filled his nostrils, a sense of calm washing over him. But he didn’t let it distract him for long, continuing to shadow the pair.

Eventually, they came to a cave-like natural structure constructed by boulders. The mystery boy tapped the rock twice, then once, then three more times. Abruptly, with a blinding flash, the gaping entryway to the tunnel was replaced by a curtain of… was that light? He and Octavia stepped through, leaving August staring, dumbfounded. What would dad do? he thought to himself, slowly walking up to the pile of rocks until he was right in front of the light. It didn’t hurt his eyes, simply shimmering before him. What would he do?

Inhaling deeply, he ran forwards.