Chapter Text
When the towering pillars finally came into view, Por was beside himself with joy. He had been looking forward to this moment since that elaborate letter of acceptance showed up at his door two months ago. It had been last minute, his application but he was glad he applied and got admission.
His dance master had pulled him aside after class and told him that Skyfall Valley College had opened its doors for the first time ever to the general public, offering a full ride scholarship. But each faculty only offered one spot so the competition was tight.
For context, Skyfall Valley College is a university that had flown under the radar until recently when it become a victim of public scrutiny. Skyfall, as it has come to be known, is a school built sorely for the elite. Ever wondered where celebrity’s children go for university? President’s children? Even child stars? Royalty? That is where the top 1%’s spawn all go.
Of course a place like this thrives on confidentiality. But when an incident at the school went viral, it got everyone curious. A high-profile politician’s child had committed suicide at the school grounds and that led to a very public dispute between him and the school because according to him, the school is protecting the jerk who led his child to suicide. Now the school found itself in high waters and so to calm the public outrage and keep investors from pulling out, they are offering scholarships. That seemed to work like a charm because everyone went from bashing the school to treating it like god’s gift to mankind overnight. Every student in the world is scrambling for one of those 12 spots like their lives depend on it. Everyone wants the seat at the table.
Personally Por didn’t understand why everyone was so adamant to be a student there. That is clearly a school full of those “do you know who my father is?” kids. As if being constantly reminded by social media just how poor you are, you have to go and experience it first hand with every waking moment? At least that’s what he thought until his teacher told him they had an extensive Ballet regime and that was enough to get Por to apply. Of course he had no hope of actually getting in, it was an open secret that a lot of nouveau riche families were using connections and bribes to get their kids admission into the school, so you can imagine his surprise when he came back from school in his old patched up converse sneakers and a white hoodie that has seen better days to find a black box placed neatly on the ground. He had thought he was dreaming. His family is so dirt poor, he has to work two part-time jobs just to barely cover the cost of his tuition. His mom works herself to death just to meet him half-way. His sister is also in school. Fortunately she got a scholarship but even she has to work part-time. His life story is every successful man’s coming up story’s dream.
But beneath all the doubt and nerves and fear, he really was excited to finally get the taste studying without having to worry where his next meal will come from, without having to ration his money so he has enough for school. When he had looked through how much his allowance from the scholarship would be, he had nearly collapsed. He had never seen that many zeroes in his life. He can finally take care of his family and buy himself a smartphone. He felt so giddy and warm.
When they got to the big iron gates, wide enough to let in 10 cars simultaneously, he was awe struck. There was a security scanner that seemed to sense his student card from inside the car because the next moment the light ahead turned from red to green and his mom followed the signs and drove them to where he will be rooming. Along the route, he couldn’t help rolling down the window to properly admire the school grounds.
Long towering structures scattered in every direction. White stone meeting beautifully groomed greenery. It felt like stepping into a fantasy world and leaving the modern era behind. Every nook and cranny of this place whispered wealth right into your ear. He still can’t believe he will be a student here, is a student here. It feels surreal, like any moment his sister will shake him awake and tell him he’s running late for his morning shift. He pretended not to see the curious gazes they got as his mom drove past. She drove an old Toyota Corolla that has seen better days and made a rackety sound every time it drove through a speed bump. Wait till they heard her start the engine. Their neighborhood didn’t need an alarm, just their mom starting the car in the morning to go to work was enough. It’s that loud.
“Por, I think we’re here, this is it right? The accommodation?”
“Hmm?”, Por was pulled out of his daze by his mom’s voice. “Yeah, I think so”. He said looking at the structure that pooled in front of them, white like the rest of the school, with many windows littered around it.
“Are you ready?” His mom asked, a small smile dotting her features. “I still can’t believe you made it in, my little Por, doing so well for himself”.
“I’m ready”, Por said, his voice vibrating a little.
“I wonder if the President’s kids go here, they probably do right? Can you get his number for me?”, his sister chimed in from the front seat, head turned to him with a big grin.
“Do you think the president’s son will even spare me the time of day? Forget his number, I’ll be even lucky to make eye contact with him”, Por rolled his eyes at his sister’s antics but he also knew she was joking with him to calm him down, she had always done that when he felt anxious.
“Come on, don’t sell yourself short, even the young prince of England would be lucky to be friends with you. You made it into this lavish school with no connections, no money, no bribes, just pure talent, how impressive is that?” His mom chimed in, squeezing his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. Let’s unload everything or else I’ll be late for uniform fitting and orientation”.
***
Por isn’t much of a crybaby, he is but he swears he’s working on it. Besides saying goodbye to his family that he hadn’t parted from since the day he was born more than justified his tears. So he sobbed quietly into his mother’s shoulder and muttered goodbyes and promises to call often. His mother rubbed his back gently and offered kind parting words. His sister seemed to be holding back tears. He had never seen her cry for as long as he can remember.
“Goodbye little brother, take care of yourself, okay? If those rich kids bully you, don’t hesitate to call and I’ll come teach them all a lesson”, she said, raising a dainty fist to make her point.
And with that he was waving his family off as the Corolla rattled off the driveway, it was so old, you couldn’t even tell what color it used to be. Por could have sworn it was red but that could’ve been the rust. A stack contrast to the shiny black SUVs and Lamborghinis all over the parking lot dropping off elegant young masters and mistresses in expensive getup.
He, himself wasn’t looking too bad. His sister had saved money and bought him new clothes after he got his acceptance letter. She said she wanted him to look his best at his new school. He had cried then too, not because he hadn’t worn new clothes since that one time he was a child and his mom bought him and his sister new Christmas clothes. He cried because he knew what that money meant to her and she had still used it to buy him clothes.
***
If Por thought the outside of the school was luxury then the inside was simply divine. Though it should be worth noting that Por speaks from a place of prolonged poverty so his stance is a little biased. But to him, if he were to imagine heaven, this is what it would look like. There was a young man in uniform, long black straight-cut school pants that hugged his legs nicely. A white shirt beneath a black blazer peppered with badges and small pins. An honorary student no doubt. He gave them (him and other new students) a tour of their assigned school accommodations after the very brief orientation at the gathering hall, apparently uniform fitting wasn’t until tomorrow. He mentioned that the school had separate living quarters scattered all over the grounds and that they were living in House Yabbay. He told them Yabbay was reserved sorely for newcomers and that it was suited to their needs. The very large dining area separated the girls’ rooms from the boys’.
The house had everything, from study area to a mini library (as they called it), though it didn’t seem that way to Por as it was bigger than the library from his previous school. A gaming area, a ballroom (??? Por doesn’t understand the habits of rich kids). House Yabbay was essentially a castle with everything amplified to fit the thousands of new students. Por had a roommate, everyone did. Adrian Betanoia, the boy in the black blazer, had said it’s to help with companionship and fellowship. It was mandatory and they would only be able to get single rooms next year unless they chose to live off-campus.
After the extensive tour, Por walked back to his room, no. T8. When the excitement finally drained out of him, all that was left was deep seated exhaustion. As soon as he reached his side of the bed, he immediately fell asleep.
***
“You’re up”, a mellow, soft voice Por didn’t recognize stated matter of factly.
For a moment he was confused as to where he was and why the mattress beneath his body was so soft and comfortable until he remembered he was a student at Skyfall Valley now. He sat up with a start.
“You slept through dinner by the way, it wasn’t anything fancy though, just steak”, his roommate said nonchalantly.
Por tried not to react too much to those words. But seriously, what does this rich young master mean by just steak, he would totally starve himself for two weeks if it meant he got to have steak okay? He turned his head toward his roommate, trying his best not to look offended. And as soon as he did, he felt his pupils dilate. So beautiful! He couldn’t help but exclaim in his mind. He really did look like a top idol. Cute and handsome at the same time. Curly brown hair a tumble across his head and framing his small face nicely. Big brown eyes staring right at him (were they sparkling? they definitely absorbed all the light in the room) and pink lips parted slightly in unveiled curiosity. So beautiful!! He couldn’t help exclaiming again.
When the silent stretched too long, Por tried to say something but all that came out of his mouth was a small croaked sound that resembled a form of greeting.
The boy smiled, a lazy half smile and tilted his head to the side.
“Not great with first meetings huh?”, he queried, eyes digging right into Por’s soul.
“Oh, well, I… I… well…”, he really is not great at first meetings. He lowered his head, fidgeting with his hands in the blanket.
The boy chuckled.
“Calm down, I don’t bite. My name is Jaden, Jaden Crenshaw. Everyone calls me Jade. What about you”.
“Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Suppakarn Jirachotikul but everyone calls me Por, you can also call me Por, if you want”. Por said, voice slightly above a whisper. Why was he so nervous?
“Nice to meet you Por. You’re so cute”.
Por was a little caught off guard, he didn’t expect him to be so direct, though he supposes he has heard those words before numerous times. He just doesn’t understand exactly what makes him cute. His mannerisms? He’s just a little guarded around strangers okay. His face? No, that can’t be it. He has seen his face in the mirror. An underfed mess if you ask him but to each their own if that’s the kind of thing you’re into.
“Thank you”, he said to be polite, even as a blush bloomed across his cheeks and neck for thanking someone for calling him cute. Embarrassing.
“I like your mullet too, it suits you”
“What’s a mullet?”, he asked, head tilted to the side in confusion.
Por watched as Jade’s eyebrows shot to his forehead, “Eh? You don’t know what a mullet is? It’s your hairstyle or do you call it a different name where you’re from?”
“Oh no, I don’t know what it’s called. I just let my hair grow out and asked my sister to cut the front so it doesn’t dig into my eyes”, he scratched the back of his head, again feeling embarrassed. Por has always been a little timid so he let his hair grow out to kinda hide behind it if that makes sense. A habit he developed in his childhood. “But thank you, your curls are really beautiful”, he finished.
“Why, thank you, I spend hours in front of the mirror perfecting them”, he said, running a hand through his hair.
“So wanna grab a bite together?”
“Like food? I thought you said I missed dinner, is the dining hall still open?”
“No but the school has a lot of restaurants that serve food 24/7. I haven’t eaten all day, I’m starving”
The minute the word “restaurant” left Jade’s mouth, Por tried not to look at Jade like the enemy, even as his lip twitched involuntarily. Spending, on one serving, money that could buy a whole month’s worth of food? No, thank you. The food isn’t even that great. It would take a while for Por to realize that now that his tuition is taken care off, he doesn’t need to hoard all his money like a treasure.
Jade watched as Por’s face morphed into different emotions before schooling his features into feigned indifference. He mistook his hesitant for laziness and tried to convince him.
“Come on, please. I’m really really hungry and it’s my treat, no limit. You can have anything you want”.
Por shot up like a canon, all he heard was free food and he was sold. Which idiot would turn down free food? Not Por.
“Really? Then let’s go”, he said, an octave higher before he remembered himself. A blush returning to his face, but that still didn’t stop him from putting on his shoes.
Por has a very complicated relationship with food. Besides its restaurant food, only a fool would say no to free restaurant food.
Turning away from Por, Jade raised an eyebrow before smiling slyly. At the time Por didn’t realize the full extent of what he had just set in motion with his undeniable obsession with food. Even when he realizes, it would be too late then.