For warnings/dc, go to chapter one. Though I'm pretty knockled as to why you're here when you haven't read chapter one. Oh, you just skip the author's notes. Got ya.

Thanks muchly for the reviews! (: It's tru-bru that they give inspiration in another form to any author/fanfiction author/unsuccessful author. I'm actually really surprised that I got nine reviews just for the first chapter omg. So thank you, thank you, you guys made my day! Oh, and just to expand, yeah, my writing is a bit of a word salad. Thanks to Guest II and nnekers for pointing it out/asking to tone it down. I'll try, honestly! Thanks to everyone else, too! :D:D Guest I, peach-kun, princess123897, HiddenOtaku24, jeathra, KuroNeko3449 and Rainbowlalaland—(Hahha, your words are too kind!)

16/09/14: What are you doing...:( Promise me you won't read any further.


Agateophobia


So it turns out that Alois was right; seniors can't even look him in the eye. I, on the other hand, was their glare target whenever Alois had his ungodly back to them. What's the big deal, anyway? I don't know. God, what I'd give to have Alois's presence, to be completely ignored due to a shitwad of respect. I get ignored because I'm equal to a pile of shit. Incidentally, the reason behind the keys is still beyond me...unfortunately. Unless Alois was famous for under graded prostitution in which I will take my words back and eat them like a cake.

I'll look hard, I swear to myself. The damned understanding will show. Once I ditch this freak so people will actually approach me. Hopefully not to beat me up.

Now that I think about it, Alois is the same section as me. Small physique, weak-looking body and pretty (useless) face, hey what gives. This isn't right. No, I mean...something in this boarding school is really, very wrong.

To my side, is Mr. Loopy Mcpants himself, proceeding to perform the same kind of walk-dance he does ever since we left the cabin and the train and head to our permitted school dorms. First was a kind of skip-step after proclaiming how ecstatic he was to get to, I quote "sleep with me on the first day back" ...end quote. Eyes had to be squinted to follow the blond's movements. Uh...oh, now I know what's going on here. Haha.

"Trancy, wait." I order, grabbing onto his forearm as we stop suddenly in the middle of the entrance hallway.

"Ugh, my god Ciel," He whines. "Didn't I tell you to call me Alois for like the...sixty sixth time?"

"Shut up."

He's sat on the desk chair that we locate for him, at the corner of the secondary building. Some students peer over us in question, but I give them what seems to be a satisfactory look. They either shrug or pretend to be disgruntled. Focusing on the young boy in front of me, he sways to the side, and cocks his head stupidly.

"What is it, pom? Little weak at the knees?"

I purse my lips, warming my hands. Now how did Madame Red do it...?

"Oh, I get it; you got a shot of blood right there, didn't you? Wittle Phantomhive ran out of his pads-"

Uh, never mind.

"Well hell, prissy bot Ciel, thought you could take it like the real woman you are, but you prove me wrong. Just when I was about to introduce you to the A team, my brethren, you know? Claude would...nah; I don't think Claude would care. He shouldn't anyway. Oh, but Sebastian's a float, boy. He'd get that provocative spark in his eye, yanno, he always does whenever he meets strange people like you. Last time it was a freaking girl. Ew, but you're an improvement, anyway, I'd approve you even if you were for that squirmy big-arseAAAAUGHK!"

I clapped my hands as hard as I can in front of his face. I was hoping for an immediate reaction, just to gain that god darn great lust for one's pain. Like him, though, it was disgusting. I sigh. But he screamed like a girl, so nothing was to be wasted.

"I knew it. You have a concussion. Let's get you to..." The hall was empty save for the students pouring out of the train station. It was hard to locate any teachers, if there were any teachers in the first place. "...Somewhere..." I trail off.

"Yoo-hoo!"

Someone cooed so terribly, I flinched. I found myself turning to find a flimsy dressed female, her uniform rolled up, and on her face, the biggest smile someone you find off the street can never manage. She seemed to be looking at the Trancy brat who still had his head down between his knees, hands covering his ears, pain lovingly imprinted on his face and the tiniest of whimpers flooding from his thin lips.

"Oi! Alois-ey!" She waves us both over, I flinch twice. I've heard about people like this, from my Aunt. Get tripped once, smile, smile, smile, get tripped twice, smile double times the first. I still have yet to find their limits. When neither of us move, she waddles over. She adopted some kind of spring to her step which made her literally waddle—something that would have been cute for a puppy, or a penguin, but unfitting for a tall, female. My focus is back on Alois who seemed to be peering pitifully through the gaps of his fingers, otherwise not hearing anything.

"Alois?" I question quietly.

She tramples over, the ground practically shaking as she scoops Alois' face up in her large hands. "Alois, ya old oaf! What's wrong with ye?!" She proceeds to shake the young boy's face, which started to turn into a sickly green.

"Uh..." I start hopelessly. "I don't think you should do that..,"

Alois' gargle sounds of approval.

"Hey!" She accused. "Who're you?" She prodded at my forehead with her lips turned upside down and her stance starting to mock those of a parrot. "Not giving little Alois any trouble, are ye?" Her accent was embraced tightly in her words, something I was not used to. Given that, it was hard not to tune her out—and while it was nice not to hear anymore girly whines, this was just as irritating too. You gotta love cosmic irony.

"He's got a concussion."I say. I was going to take him up to a school nurse if this hole has one anyway, but it's really hard to do so when some imbecile comes up and worsens his condition, I don't say. "Do you know where a school nurse is? Or the medical wing?"

"Medical wing?" She pauses for a moment before snorting in amusement. "Boy your accent sure is rich. We don't get you guys around here, ya' see?"

"That's what I said," mumbles an aching Trancy before I can even remark.

"Shh," She hushes him. "And how did this happen, then?"

"He got trampled over by a group of students." I say quickly.

"But I thought I bumped into a door?"

"-They got pissed off because he wouldn't stop ruddy talking."

"Nngh-"

"Ahhh," The intruder hums. "So the usual? By the by, I'm Freckles!" She holds out her outstretched hand to my way, her hair shimmering under the bright light of the welcoming hallway. Wait, freckles? Now that she's said it, it was as if I've been subconsciously avoiding them. There, splattered over her cheerful face and cheerful nose, small dark skinned spots of increased liveliness.

"...Freckles?" I can't help myself.

"Well that's what everyone calls me." She beams. "Started as a let-down name, but I grew rather fond of it. Fitting, ain't it?"

"Ciel," I nod. She figures that's all she's getting and lowers her hand in expectation but doesn't seem disheartened one bit as her smile is not faltered one bit.

"Did you recently move into the country?" Her words are solid, passing by and papping you painfully in the cranium, careful enough to produce only a grunt but nothing more. Maybe that's why she was sent here; Freckles' mother was too darn tired of rendering up bruises. Nevertheless, her words sink in fine.

"Two years ago." I think for a moment. "The weathers nicer by plenty."

"Can't agree," She says with her mouth half open and a twinkle in her visible eye. The other was shadily covered by a side-fringe, her blazing red hair succumbing instantly to her bright smile. It was almost too fictional. Anyway, it was a failure to notice that too. People couldn't deem her interesting anyway. Minus the freckles and the half-lisp she adorned, Freckles could be one of those girls you'd see demonstrating how brilliant a smile can be when using colgate. "Australia's been pickin' up the tid-bits of hell. One minute a livin' incubator, next moment, new Arctic."

Piteous half-moans of agony coming from a chipped-off Alois now.

"Maybe that is why it seems nice. It's unpredictable, really."

"Yeea' it seems alright when ya get used to it," Her eyes flicker tantalizingly for a mo. "Are ya used to it?"

"I-"

A high-pitched squeal of pain.

"Alrigh' Alois you daft nogger!" Freckles huffs, her hands steady at her hips. "Let's get you to the hospital department, aye? I hope you remember where the sick bay is, I ain't got a clue since last year. Remember when ya got bitten by one of them red-backs? Right on the rump too!" She barked, her giggles sounding like hiccups.

Alois scowled, and had the audacity to raise his head. "Or when you got sent over there whining like a slut on her period just because-mmmnnnph!"

"Shut up! That never happened, okay?" The tall female says, her square-like hand stopping Alois' mouth from moving mid-sentence.

"Mmmmphhaaauddarg," Funny noises emits from the back of Trancy's throat.

"Sorry Al," The hand was removed at once. "What was that?"

"I said; you stupid skank, I can't breathe. I think I'm going to die."

Freckles nods wisely.

"Ah," She said. "I thought so."

His frame is supported by her slightly smaller one, a strong arm looping around his shoulders and under an arm—the blond's head wavering at a pace that'd make one dizzy. They're quick on their feet and as they rise up, a small gadget thoroughly erupts from his front pocket and makes a scant noise from clattering on the floor.

"I almost—urg—forgot about that...ickle...bleugh-Ciel, be a dear for me and deliver that to Grell Sutcliff, won't you? He's about ye' tall," He raises his arm above his head. "Ogles Sebs with an inch of his life and he's—oh never mind, it's hard to miss him. Bye bye now!" He concludes, shoving the god-awful phone into my hands.

"Wait-uh," I reach out a hand for them helplessly.

"Oh, don't worry smile! He'll be up an' at 'em in no time!" She reassures. Their backs are turned as they head towards a door to the left, hastily dodging the other bulleting students. I can still hear their loud voices and bits of their shared conversation.

"Why the flippin' heck do you have Sutcliff's phone anyway?" It sounded like Freckles didn't attempt one pinch of her power to hush down her voice.

"...evidence?"
"Gosh, fer what now!?"

Alois whispers something, and Freckles' eyes go wide. "For real!? Oh, that's...gross..."
"Oh come on. As if you wouldn't take a peek."
"It's disgustin'!" She proceeds to mock push Alois while still keeping her hold on him.

"It's hot."

"It's not."

"You're such a low-life,"

"'ey, watch what yer' sayin'! Besides, I might give a lil' slip to Faustus. Say yer being a lil' unfaithful to him, eh?"

"Up yours."

That's unfortunately all I can hear last as they disappear behind two rounded doorways.

Glancing at the bold red, old-styled phone with two luscious stickers at the back that read 'booty' it was hard to contain a growl of frustration. I breathe, attempt to calm myself and took a look around. I guess the school grounds weren't that complicated. One step is in motion and I'm lost in the sea of students roughly shoving me forward or pulling me back, occasionally about one or two people parroting sorry. They couldn't just leave me in this hellhole, could they? A fumbling group of females rush forward, past the remaining students and did nothing to stifle their dreaded giggles...whatever, Alois is a nutcase and Freckles is the same.

Now, about this phone. An examination won't do anyone harm.
I do this for about five or so minutes.

There's a sudden touch on my right shoulder. I jump and turn around in accusation, my eyes transfixed on the patchy figure. Wait...the boy is chunky albeit sweet-looking, the kind of boy you'd expect seeing at every church session. He adorned curly, brown-tinged hair that framed his kind face and hazel brown eyes that will leave you in a hopeful sense of security. This boy is in my year. How do I know this...? Well,
"McMillan?"

Behind the round glasses, his eyes twinkle with an unmistakable grin. "...Ciel. I thought it was you,"

Oh thank god. Someone at least half as sane as any other tonker on this planet. "McMillan...I didn't know you'd come to this school." Though my words are flat and monotone, there ought to be some relief written in the corner of my eyes.

"Hey, me neither!" He chortles good-naturedly, over-joyful to catch up with an old friend. "You should have told me before last year's break! What are you doing here?"

I shrug. "Auntie kicked me out." Which is not exactly a lie.

"Oh.., sorry." He lowers his eyes, a gesture of respect. Even though his speech was horribly obtuse and his eyes were too far apart for my liking, he didn't produce any irritation whatsoever. Clowns or not, I'd rather them un-irritating. "But I think you'll find this place great!" He says joyfully. Hallelujah for non prominent accents.

"Really?" I deadpan, glaring over his shoulder, presumably at the faint scent of those dumbwits, Alois and Freckles. His gaze unfortunately follows my direction and he looks sheepish for a second, something that I questioned, bemused.

"Oh, forgive me." He replies quietly. "I saw you talking to Trancy and Doll, and I really didn't..." The male rubs the back of his head in a meek manner. "Not with Trancy there..."

"Oh." I say. "What's the big deal behind him anyway? Looks nothing to me but a blond brat in female clothing."

"sssSHHH!" McMillan shushes sharply, surprising me for a moment, and a faintly freckled hand blocks my lips from parting. The boy cups my shoulder to prevent me from moving and turns his head side to side dramatically as if to seek anyone listening on.

"Do not make fun of the booty shorts." He says above a whisper. "Nobody makes fun of the booty shorts. Not even Claude. Timber mentioned it once in front of him. It was not pretty."

I raise an eyebrow, because really, he wouldn't at a time like this? I gently swat his hand away from my mouth and he recoils slowly, his bewildered expression unchanging and glued on. My mouth opens to speak, and he gives me a stern yet somewhat warning glance that makes me shut it in instant. "Who's Claude?"

"Oh, you just arrived, didn't you?" He sighed wearily. "Come on, I'll show you around. I'm sure that Alois was going to but trust me, I'm a much better candidate." He shuts his mouth and his eyes widen, shooting his head sideways to face me. "Don't tell him I said that!"

My eyes are itching to roll, but I find myself nodding considerably. "Sure."

He steps towards the doors that Alois and Freckles entered through. "Come on; let's go to the dining hall. It's a good place to start."

The cherub faced boy leads the way, with me just behind his shoulder. We come across different hallways with the logo design of Robbinton all over the place. On banners, welcome notices pinned on ivory walls...I hope they didn't think that it would look the least bit welcoming. "By the way...," I introduce. "By Doll you mean Freckles, right?" I peer at him questionably.

"Huh?" He answers half-heartedly.
"Earlier, you said 'Trancy and Doll'."
"Oh, yes!" Realisation strikes his face then his eyes darken as if mentally scolding himself. He turns to me with an apologetic look. "She's a real sweetheart, isn't she? I mean...listen, I'm not supposed to tell anyone this but her real name is Doll. She told me that while kids bullied her with, erm 'Freckles' it didn't hurt her as much as her real name, 'Doll'. In fact, she stayed strong all through this time. Isn't that...incredible?" He trails off expectantly, admiration filed deep into his heart.

"Love struck, are you?" I reply in utter boredom. We pass a couple of students gathering around in their little groups. There was one duo that looked like they thought they appeared intimidating, so I give them a little sneer back.

"Oh, no, no!" His face resembles the dreadful colour Madame Red decided to wear in her best-friend's funeral. McMillan's rounded glasses fog up, and I find this amusing as he flails his arms and the red spreads all the way down to his neck and motions. "No, I mean I...I'm not!" He denies stubbornly, his arms crossing on emphasis.

I greet him with a thankful silence with he's grateful for, and we walk past the last door, where he smiles to have finally reached our destination. I was subconsciously looking around for either Doll or Alois. Don't know why. Maybe to consider Freckles in a relationship with McMillan. It's sort of snort-worthy for the idea. He was short and the tiniest ounce of plump, his eyes carry around the same amount of kindness as she had herself. She was carefree and outspoken, and he was insecure and somewhat dorky. It was almost cliché.

"Here," McMillan's rasp-free, egged voice urged me forward and sat me down next to him. Long tables were in order, scattered around the huge, globe-like room that could hold a small, aristocratic ball.

"What exactly are we doing here?" I say under my breath, imitating his tone of voice.

"Keep your voice down and don't make it obvious. It's a sort of an unofficial tradition around here. Except only for the unlabelled ones."

"What are you talking about?" A small judgemental gathering of students behind McMillan's shoulder spot me, and I glare back. How dare they just strike up the nerve to face me at once. It's common courtesy to have one person have their turn, the second to go next and so on.

"I'm talking about," McMillan repeats, making me snap my eyes back onto his thoughtful face. "We're going to introduce you to people. Only there'll be no talking. Every new student, if they're lucky enough, gather enough pity to have one person talk about how the school strings work."

"You pity me...?"

"No!" He shakes his head furiously, flushing faintly.

"Strings...? You mean system?"

"No." He huffs once again. "We've got those boring thirty minute assemblies for introducing the school system to new students. This is how you know who to glare at, who not to glare at, which hustle you'll befit with," He starts listing them out, and I tune out near the end.

I shrug my shoulders as he finishes. "Ohkay..., well?"

"You see those students behind me?" McMillan blanches as he whispers, and I rest my cheek against the palm of my head, nodding at him. "They like to be referred to as the dark magic society."

I snort.

"Yeah, okay it does sound a little loony on the side." Says he. "They're as creepy as you can get. While they're loserly and kind of rejects at physique, everyone steers clear of them. There was a rumour once—this innocent girl was murdered simply because she broke Koff's heart."

"Koff?"

"Who the dark magic society worship." He coughs. "They say that he was a dark sorcerer who cursed the girl into thinking that she needed to be killed. And so she fell off the high roof, from the left campus, where astronomy classes and fanatics take place. After that, everyone turned on him, accusing him. So he started his own club, choosing individuals lesser from any other clumps. Hence Dark Magic Society. Everyone's scared of them in fear that they'd be cursed. But I guess some of them are negotiable, at least."

"It sounds stupid." I sigh.

The male winces, the crinkles next to his eyes convulsing painfully as he shushes me again. "That's another forbidden thing to say."

"What's not?" I reply off-handedly. "Is this Koff guy real?"

The boy nods. "It actually took place. He's still in the student records, but it says he was expelled right after the incident...the girl too was reality. A girl really did die from falling off the high-tower. It really does sound like two fictional characters..,"

I hate fiction.

"Yeah, alright. Can we move on from them? I think they're looking at me." I feel uneasy. No, not because of their stares and definitely not because they can [air quote] curse [end air quote].

McMillan chokingly gasps. "Come 'round here. We'll swap spots!"

"But-." I'm already hauled off my seat and now sitting on my temporary spot, his recent one.

"The only ones that I'll allow you to talk to in that group, are Violet and Undertaker. Everyone else means trouble..."

"Right, got it. Anything else?"

"Well, we moved on from the biggest threat if you don't count Alois' chaps on violent mood swings."

"Enough about Alois," I say quickly. "How about you? Where do you go?"

He grins. "My folk are lovely, actually. You really need to meet them. The ones that I'm extremely fond of are Elizabeth, Soma, Maylene and Finny. Also, there's Greenhill, Redmond, Agni, Bard, Joker, Dagger and Doll of course! The latter ones are all seniors, but they look after our group." He beams. "We were put together in a cabin mix-up when we went down South, you see. Sometimes Violet joins us too because of Redmond and Bluer. But only occasionally. Oh and Aleister hangs out with us too, because of his brother, Redmond."

"Uh...yeah, I'll keep them in mind." I shoot him a small, meaningless smile which he returns full-blast.

"They'd accept you instantly, no doubt!" He reassures with a fond gleam in his eye. "There are some other people you need to be away with, but they're hard to miss. The Juggalos and all that...," I shudder; I was never too fond with clown-fanatics.

He catches it and shoots me a kind look. "Beast and Jumbo are quite intimidating, but I'm sure you'll get used to them. Also, Beast is kind of on a rage-period for now, because of her break up with..."He silences himself.

"With?" I peer closer.

"We'll come to him later. Anyway, we still have Alois to come first. And then the teachers if you want."

I try my absolute best to keep from groaning. "Hop to it." I say enthusiastically.

The squeamish yellow was renowned, gathering in another clump as eyes were motioned over by little gestures of the pinkie finger. He motions me closer with a stubby finger and leans closer himself, both elbows and forearms flat on the table as he speaks just above my ear. "He's the school slut."

Satan's twelve inch penis on a stick. Refraining from shooting back with an alarmed look plastered as a facial expression, my jaw hangs agape, the bits of mouldy puzzle pieces not scrambling, but assembling themselves, the registration click and renewed in my head. One part of my face feels sticky from resting it on my hand too long. "I'm not sure whether to be surprised or disgusted."

He shoots me a feeble look a pity. "When in doubt, how about both?" He says humorously.

"I scored a dorm room with him," I whine, now both palms pressing into the soles of my sapphire, round eyes.

"Ow," He cringes at the thought. "Well, at least you'll have Soma and Redmond to keep you company."

"I thought Redmond was a senior?"

He actually smiles at me, probably because of proof that I have been listening to him. "He and Alois share a cabinet, see? They've never got along, but it started with a heated drabble a year ago about outfits, and now they always share a dorm. Expect a lot of visits from Aleister and Agni and Claude and Sebastian too, if you're going to be sharing one with them."

I release a long, long sigh.

He cocks his head to the side. "Don't frown. You look really nice when you smile, you know?"

I frown just for kicks. "You know," I say aloud. "That's what Freckles called me before. Smile. Peculiar, is it not?"

"She's half-deaf," McMillan nods. "She had a hard childhood, and I guess that's why she speaks too loud. But it could be just a nickname."

"..."

"..."

"Fine." I glower, crossing my legs under the table as my palms now rest on the cool metal of seat beside me. "I guess we can talk about Alois' crew."

"Great," He says as enthusiastically as I do; his voice toneless and grim. "That guy to our right...the one that doesn't shut up?"

"Uhuh." I roll my eyes secretly to the aforementioned figure to the far right. It was an unmistakable guy with a lazy hooped one shoulder red sweater equipped which was bound to be against school policy. His hair was like a bunch of fruit loops, no scratch that, red-vines, pouring down his scalp like a stream of fish blood. If you looked closer, his freshly manicured fingers also decided on a red accessory; blood-red finger-nail polish that stands as a mocking tool. When he'll scratch the flesh off someone, it will leave a streak of red that from later examinations tell you that it wasn't blood, but in fact blood-like polish. The mark of the bleeding devil.

"Actually, let's talk about Claude." He changes quickly. "The one next to him. You know, with the cold, poker face, curly-styled black hair and thin framed glasses that looks like he has a stick up his rump?" A quick flash of my eyes has me nodding.

"So that's Claude..."

"Mmhm." McMillan says. "He can beat up the whole school if he wants to. Right now, he's with Alois. And they're rarely seen without each other. They're attached to the hip, except for now because...huh."

"That explains a lot." I say, dismissing him.

"Yeah, before Claude, Alois used to sleep with every guy and every girl that he considered attractive. But everyone knew he had been pining over Claude. And Faustus, being the rough wall of steel he is, didn't accept him until Alois erm...encouraged him in a relationship. Now he's very possessive. Very. It's scary, honestly. He'd give Sebastian a run for his money if it concerned Alois."

"Cute." I deadpan.

"Hard to get along with, though. Talking to him is like talking to a wall. Anyway, they also have Hannah, who adores Alois, nobody knows why." My mind flickers back to the phone conversation the brat had. "Then the trio, Timber, Thompson and Canterbury who always follow Hannah around and never say anything. Ronald and Will who get along surprisingly with the Undertaker...Now going back to the red-paint." He sighs.

I turn my head to the side, quite obvious but also too tired for anything other than getting through this. We still had assembly to go. I'm going to be godamned beat, who cares that poor, poor me would be sleeping in the same room as Alois Trancy? As long as I actually get some slumber to take this drag away.

Suddenly I'm faced with crimson hues. The sort that would remind one of rubies melting in molten fire, or its fiery companion itself. Or for the deep hearted, the core of colour you'd see at the bottom of your lively wine glass, lively, lively red. His lips are thin but it compliments his devil-like face, the sort of just-there plumpness and colour that girls would go crazy about. His hair, sin black, like ravens associated with death and it pools right down to the bottom of his cheek bones, like classy perfection.

He sees me. Our eyes meet.

The corner of his desirable mouth twitches forwards up, and before anyone knows it, a smirk is playing on his lips. It's not like facing a stranger—it was facing the devil.

"Phantomhive!" McMillan whisper-hissed, snapping me back to transfix on his face. His lips are compressed into concern. "Don't look at people like that. Especially them," He warns me.

"And that guy?"

"Oh, Sebastian. Watch out for him, eh, Phantomhive? He'd stick a feather in his hair like a middle finger at God."

"Is he...staring at me?"

"Oh golly, this is not good." McMillan motions me and we swap seats pointlessly once again. "The last time he looked at someone like that, was when he first met up with Beast."

"So he," I lower my head to meet his level. "Was the one Beast broke up with?"

"Yep yep," He confirms. "Look at him. He looks like a movie star. There's no doubt that every girl wants him up their grill. Explains why he has Angela and Grell always strutting after him, asking for a smooch whenever unnecessary." He shrugs. "It's a bit disgusting, but understandable. He's known to be a heart-breaker, a real one. Only talked to him one time and that was just so he could pass-"

From the corner of my eye, I see Sebastian and...What's his face, Claude exit the dining hall, prepping one last look at me. At normal times, I'd settle for a stern look, but for some reason, I could do nothing but stare and jump in shock.

"I get it. He looks nothing special. And speaking of Grell, assuming after what you said, he's the one that is now clinging onto Sebastian's jumper and with unsightly hair on fire up to his knees, I need to give his cell back." I stand up and turn before McMillan shoves me roughly back down, bonking my hip onto the wicked corner of the sturdy table. I grit my teeth.

"What the hell?"

"Sorry Ciel," McMillan squeaks in apology. "Grell doesn't like youngsters like us. Also...why do you have his phone!?" He squeaks louder, his eyes as wide as saucers now. "Everyone knows it has pictures of-"

"Relax, McMillan, Alois just told me to return it." I say calmly, standing back up again.

"Ugh, sometimes he is just too stupid! What was he thinking?" McMillan fussed, moving up to haul me back down again when suddenly; the phone is whipped away from my grip. The boy's eyes grow wide in sheer blankness, and he reduces to the size of a mouse. I turn around slowly, to face Grell, now six times as revolting up close and with a hand on his hip in a spectacular star pose. His green eyes were livid and those were what rendered me speechless.

"Excuse me, what in God's piss are you doing with my phone." He emphasizes each word with a grit of his unnaturally sharp teeth. He might have had them enhanced, but the poison in his voice might betray a suggestion like that. "You held my phone. You. Do not. Have. The right. To. Touch. My. Phone."

"Uuuh..."

"I don't even know you! Do you know how distressing it is to lose one of your most faithful companions? And swiping away at a damsel's dainty belongings is unacceptable! You DAMNED little brat, do you have ANY idea who you're dealing with!?" His horrid eyes grow wide with more passion. "Oh, you horrible, horny child!" With his phone hand, he swats at my own which were slightly raised in a motion of peace. I recoil, mind at a blank. "You wanted his photos, didn't you? YOU WANTED TO SEE WHAT MY SEBASTIAN DOES IN HIS OWN TIME, RIGHT?!"

"NO! I-"

"Perverted little fuckwit!"

That does it. "Hey, listen here firecrotch-."

"Ciel!" McMillan snapped, grabbing at my forearm and lowering my stance. Grell remains his posture, now the whole population of the stupid dining hall looking our way, having witnessed the entire scene. He proceeds to do a wicked laugh, and the smugness made me want to snatch his phone back and stomp on it.

"Sutcliff." Someone saunters near him and pauses before hitting Grell's aroma, a stern, bitter look on his face that had you under the impression that he was never one to talk with.

The livid goes as fast as it came to my exasperation, and Grell flounces towards the man. "Wiiiiiilll~!"

His head is hammered down to the ground before his arms could embrace his counterpart. "Really, you are already as despicable as it is. Though you are at lowest, I'd never expect you to stoop deeper; setting your disgusting hands on a mere child."

I scowl. Am not.

"He is anything but a mere child!" He spits out, sparing a glare in my direction. "He's the dirty demon from—eeeyeyyyoa!" One furious Grell gets dragged out of the hall by a harsh grip on his ear.

I get tugged to the other side too, McMillan keeping his hold firm and unrelenting. Once we're pulled aside to a passageway, he gives me a disappointed look. "Ciel, I told you!" He sighs. "Never mind. You kept an eye on me in primary school, so I'm returning the favour."

I nod solemnly. "Thank you, but I think I can look after myself."

"No, no you can't," He says with such certainty in his voice. "Not with people suspecting you're involved with Sebastian."

"I'm not involved with Sebastian. I never even met him."

"Whatever sense of 'involved' with Sebastian will you get you in trouble. And the trouble is either Grell, Angela or half of the student body. And it seems like Alois wants his hands on you too. Which also means Claude. Boy, it's only the first day and you got yourself a sticky situation, Ciel. It's the people with pretty faces or other out-standers that need to keep an eye out." He says slyly.

I choose not to comment on that.


A/N: I'm sorry for this, really. But for now, you'll have to wait for the next one, when Ciel and Sebastian finally meet. Ol'righ, thanks for your reviews! THEY MAKE ME FEEL HAPPY

16/09/14: Alright, serious biz. Stop reading this. NOW.