He could feel the tangible oil slick of gazes on his skin. The palpable vibration of the space around him as he walked through the Red Sea of people, parting at his approach. He had to hold back from curling into himself and force his shoulders straight, his gait even and confident. He should be used to this by now, but that doesn't make it any less disgusting.
He styled himself carefully today. No tight clothes, no loose strings to be discreetly yanked by passers by, showing barely any skin. He would have worn a baggy sweater if he could, but this September morning was going to cook him alive in it. So he opted for a baggy white linen shirt with a V-line and plain black trousers. Branded and well made, of course. He was dressing down, but he wasn't a savage.
For all intents and purposes, his monochromatic garb should have blended into the sea of students. But he might as well have come in naked, if the attention he garnered was anything to judge by. Deep down, he knew that no matter what he wore, if he cut his hair in a military buzz cut, or wore a full face mask, it would change nothing. The issue lay in his very presence.
One day it got so bad that he begged Nastya to come with him to a doctor and spend an ungodly amount of money trying to see if it was something biological. A scent, like pheromones released by other animals. They found nothing. And the doctor recommended he get into show business, to at least make money off of it. Nikolai wanted to scream.
If he couldn't do anything about it, he might as well look the way he wanted to. He enjoyed the feel of long hair brushing his neck, the freedom of movement in flowy clothes, and, if he was honest, the way they looked on him. The days when he and his sister would go on an online shopping spree and do a makeshift fashion show at home felt liberating. He could almost forget and immerse himself in the lines, contours and texture around himself, like living art. It would, of course, be ruined immediately if he wore those clothes outside, because now that freedom and joy would be tainted.
Nothing he could do about it. Stand tall and keep walking, he told himself as they stood in line for the orientation registration. Nastya was deep in thought. Always so retrospective, his twin. She was also getting appreciative stares from all around them, but it seemed not to register with her. She always carried herself with such innate confidence and pride that Nikolai was frustrated with his own inability to let things go.
He shouldn't have expected her to stay and keep him company for the orientation. She always played by her own rules, and taking direction or orders from other people was unfathomable. She did seem off that day, and until she had her hit of nicotine, she would be impossible to be around. He slowly moved towards the 'Boy Scout', his sister called out earlier, standing on a crate of all things, gesturing to the gathered group to come closer before he began.
"Hello, everyone! Welcome to Brunswick High! I am Dylan Ward, and I will be your illustrious guide for the next…" he checked his watch "... twenty minutes or so, before you are whisked away and chained back to your desks."
Some people chuckled, some groaned. This, however, did not deter him from doing a quick roll call before hopping off the crate, picking it up and gesturing to the group to follow him. He was an odd fellow. Not especially breathtaking, but not ordinary either when it came to looks. He had a presence to him, though, a command of the room that one could only obtain through mastering the stage. And those unique eyes. Heterochromia was not a common condition, especially when one eye was the colour of amber, flecks of light reflecting through its depths in shards of gold and the other pale grey, like the mist on a lake.
Nikolai was so mesmerised by his guide that he only noticed his sister slip away with a wink long before he could pull her back into the crowd. He sighed and let it go. Their group was guided through the school building, showing the layout of the classrooms and other points of interest. They didn't venture outside, but Dylan, being ever so resourceful, managed to get them access to the roof, and they got to see the school grounds from a bird's eye view. Nikolai kept in mind the football field, a small park and a bunch of smaller buildings peppered through the area, their purpose quickly listed by their omniscient guide. The tour continued into the rooms used by the various clubs and societies at Brunswick High. He noticed that the group had lost a few stragglers through the tour and had shrunk to only about a dozen.
"While I am desperately disappointed that we lost the majority of the crowd, I am also elated that the remaining individuals are ones with refined tastes and brimming with curiosity!" Dylan exclaimed in an exaggerated tone as he turned towards them before their final destination.
"I welcome you to the best place on the entire campus", he said as he pushed the double doors behind him open, letting them all into a magnificent theatre. The stage was lit and the red curtains drawn back as students were frantically painting various wooden sets and assembling furniture on stage. The spanning rows of seats went up into a beautiful auditorium, indicating that the school did invest a lot of its funds into the arts program; an uncommon situation across the country.
"Magnificent, isn't she?" Dylan asked, breaking everyone out of their impressed silence. "I am lucky enough to be the custodian of this fine establishment, so if any of you wish to join the theatre club, you only have to sign here."
Before their little group managed to protest, a haggard-looking student appeared next to them with a clipboard, pen and a sign-up sheet provided. Nikolai was quietly impressed by the ingenuity of this trap and, with great surprise to himself, reached out to sign his name first.
"Ah, a volunteer already!" That piercing gaze zeroed in on him, causing him to flinch. "I was expecting to have to resort to dirtier means of persuasion, but I am glad fellow thespians are not shy to engage with the program. Which you can use instead of the standard drama classes to get your grade for the whole year."
The last phrase did have an expected effect as a few more students lined up behind Nikolai to volunteer as well. Looking at the rest of the hesitating crowd, mostly girls at this point, Dylan sealed the deal with a smirk. "Oh, and how could I forget to mention! Our very own Brunswick Railroaders volunteer with production after their practice, and many stay on to help on the opening night. Isn't our school spirit just great!"
The girls took the bait, hook, line and sinker, pushing forward to the glee of their mischievous conductor. Dylan Ward was now looking straight at Nikolai, a perplexing mix of curiosity and assessment behind his eyes. Nikolai had no idea what possessed him to draw attention to himself. He loathed the usual gazes directed at him, but Dylan's was different. It was as if he was not simply mesmerised by his appearance, but trying to peer behind the shell to what is inside. And Nikolai was desperately starved for that kind of attention. Moreso than he himself realised.
He closed in with this strange youth, noting that he was only a little taller than his sister, and extended his hand. Dylan looked up at him, beaming, and shook it.
"I am very pleased to welcome you into the club! Your name…"
"Nikolai Vokhvov", he replied, looking straight into Dylan's eyes. This interaction felt odd, in the sense that by this point, if it were anyone else on the other side of that handshake, they would be rendered mute and their pupils would be dilated as if after a rave. Nikolai's new world post puberty did not have physical touch or eye contact for the benefit of all involved, only calculated distance. He felt emotional all of a sudden, the feeling of a warm palm that was not his sister's in his hand and a simple, friendly gaze directed not at the magnificence of his presence, but at him.
But why was it so? Suddenly, Nikolai felt the need to probe this abnormality, distinctly getting the feeling that he was poking the proverbial bear.
"And it is a true pleasure to meet you." He felt the vibrations around his voice resonate through their handshake and heard the telltale intakes of breath from around the room. He hasn't done this since that catastrophic homecoming a few months ago, and the tiny self-preservation voice in his head was screaming at him to turn and flee. One could hear a pin drop in the room, all attention glued to him in an instant. The calm before the storm. He had a few seconds before they would rush him, wanting to be near, to touch, to grab. Nikolai used his time wisely to study the boy before him.
No response. Dylan was looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, looking confused at the inflexion in his voice, but still smiling widely. He let go of Nikolai's hand and nodded.
"Erm… well, likewise! I'd love to chat more, but I have to take you guys back to the meeting point, as we are running out of time. We should talk on the way."
He turned away from Nikolai. Actually turned away of his own volition, looking at the room. The freshmen, transfer students, and the theatre club members were frozen in place, eyes hungrily staring towards Nikolai. He felt a bead of sweat drop down his back and was about to bolt when Dylan clapped his hands loudly and pronounced.
"Alright, everyone. Enough dawdling. You lot, back to the setpieces. You guys, follow me back to the corridor."
And just like that, his "spell" was broken. Everyone reluctantly returned to what they were doing, and a few seconds later, the low hum of voices and activity returned to the room. Dylan gestured out of the door, and flabbergasted, Nikolai followed the crowd back to where they started.
"So, if I may pry." Dylan began, "What's your poison? Ballet, opera, plays…"
" I… erm…" Nikolai was honestly so shocked by the last few minutes that the question took him by surprise. He answered whatever came to mind first.
"Musicals, I guess."
"Really!?" Dylan seemed ecstatic. "I am actually putting on a student musical this year. It's based on the Odyssey and is written by this amazing Puerto Rican, I guess I could call him a tiktoker, but he is so much more than that!"
"Are you talking about Epic: the musical?"
"Oh, my God, YES! Do you know it!?"
Nikolai looked at this miracle that dropped into his life after long years of suffering and smiled from the bottom of his heart.
"It's one of my favourites."