To disappoint

❝ Everything I was afraid of happening, happened ❞

He blinked slowly as his teacher sighed once more. "It isn't that hard Isaac," She mumbled as she looked at the boy. He narrowed his eyes when she spoke those words. Ever since he got his new arm he was enrolled in music classes as well. He had chosen the piano, as he was free on that regard. But even with the prosthetic, it was clear that he was lacking. He could understand why he needed to master this, as most noblemen had some knowledge on music... But he just couldn't keep up. As he stared at the paper in front of him, not even daring to look up at his teacher, he could hear another sigh. "Again," He slowly put up his hands, carefully placing his fingertips on the keys. Pressing each and every one down, he started quite well. One... Two.. And his fake hand didn't respond like he wanted to. It slipped off the key, leaving a broken note and ruining the song that he was playing. He took a deep breath, his gaze kept on the piece of paper as he quickly put his hands beside him again. Another storm of words came down upon him, clarifying how lacking he was. And all he did was nod. Because at the end of the day he was all to aware about that fact. He could never be more than he was; a mistake.

Eventually his teacher gave up and sent him on his way. Isaac slowly started to pack up his stuff, not even making eye contact with the woman as he did. It's not that he was scared of her or her judgement. There were little things in this world that could put that fear into him. He was very self aware of what he was and what it meant in this society. Perhaps a bit too well for his age. Keeping his secret to himself had learned him how cruel it all really was. And where he first just had to do it for himself, he now had to take his new father into account as well. The man didn't realize what kind of problem he really was. It would be for the better if he remained at a distance, for the both of them. His hands slowly went over his shoulder bag, before he closed it and put it on. Adjusting the strap somewhat so that he could carry it comfortably, he lifted his prosthetic hand and waved at the teacher. "Thank you for your time," He didn't really get a response, as the woman clearly was already busy with someone else. Isaac looked at her for a moment, before he sighed, turning away from her.

When he stepped outside, he looked at the ground for a moment, one hand resting on the strap of his bag. Why couldn't he just do it...? He close his eyes for a moment, clenching his teeth as he did. He didn't want to disappoint anymore. Why did it have to be like this? Even now, with two arms, he still couldn't keep up. And as he stood there, finally feeling the disappointment and sadness that he held back, a soft drizzle started. Barely noticeable, but Isaac knew why it happened. He was lucky it wasn't extreme, he was lucky he kept himself from crying.. He was lucky that he had grown up so fast.

His eyes moved predatorily over the people walking him by. He’d been so good ever since he’d come to the Upper Ring, only one little slip up had happened and no one had noticed, he deserved to wreak some havoc. The only question was: who made the perfect victim? He was certain that everyone around him had some dark secret, but none looked readily exploitable. The upper class was so boring in that regard. They preferred to hide their shortcomings or problems. He was here to bring that all to the surface, to show they were just as rotten as he or the place they sent him to were.

Looking around, his attention was grabbed by a boy leaving a familiar building. On the front were letters showing you could follow music classes there, but Ishir already knew that without looking. It had been more than two decades, but the music school was still exactly the same as back when he’d attended it.

A raindrop fell on his cheek. Distracted, Ishir looked up at the sky. A slight drizzle started falling when just before the sun had been shining. Strange, but the weather was of no importance right now. The child had his eyes trained on the ground, clearly upset by something. This was a golden opportunity and so Ishir walked towards the boy. “Music class never was my thing either,” he spoke once he got closer.

❝ Everything I was afraid of happening, happened ❞

When he noticed the drizzle, he immediately placed his good hand in his face as to get rid of any tears that might be forming. But to his surprise there were none. He slowly moved his hand away from his face and stared at his hand, that was slowly getting wet due to the soft drizzle. Barely noticeable, just like he was feeling right now. Or perhaps it was just a coincidence. It was that time of the year where the weather was just bad anyway. He sighed, his clothes slowly getting more and more thanks to the weather. It was slow, but fast enough to make him shudder for a moment. It was time to start heading home and warm himself up by the fireplace. It was something that he couldn't look forward to when he was still in the orphanage. In the lower rings it was to each their own. Those were the rules that had been taught to him ever since he was a child.

A voice made him look up. He narrowed his eyes for a moment as he looked at the other. The man commented on the music classes and stated that he was never good at it too. Isaac couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy by this. As he observed the other slowly he could feel how the drizzle was clearing up, something that brought his stomach into a knot. He hated it so much, but there was little he could do about it. He was lucky that he could keep it all so well within himself. "It's hard," he said with a sigh, his eyes slowly drifting towards his prosthetic arm as he spoke. He only had the thing for a few weeks. Why did they already expect him to be as good as someone who was born with two arms? They had years to develop their skills, he only had a few weeks. "I shouldn't have chosen the piano," In his eyes it had been the best thing for him, as he didn't need to hold anything up with his arms. It would be too much for him right now, as he could barely even do anything that required him to focus too much. Moving his fingers was already a huge task.

The kid looked rightfully suspicious of him and for a moment Ishir thought he’d run away to his mum and dad, but then the boy admitted it was hard. “And they expect so much,” the man sighed in agreement. He followed the child’s eyes towards his arm. A prosthetic. He’d made a good call in approaching this kid. If Ishir was right about this, which he was as certain of as he could be after a second-long interaction, this was the kind of person that he could easily influence: vulnerable with heavy expectations on his shoulders.

The boy went on to say that he shouldn’t have chosen the piano. “Choosing another instrument wouldn’t have made a difference.” Ishir shrugged. Of course he didn’t know the kid’s situation or his family, but even though he was just speculating with his answer, he couldn’t help but feel he was on the right track. Upper Class families were all the same after all. Such pressure was placed on their children to be perfect.

❝ Everything I was afraid of happening, happened ❞

Isaac didn't even know why he mentioned the instrument to the other. He could always talk to his dad about his troubles... But there was a part of him that wouldn't even dare to speak about such things with him. He would be disappointed for sure and that was the last thing he wanted. He was already such a failure without the other knowing. Him being born with magic in his veins, cursed ever since he was a baby. He had been punished by Renestrae herself by ripping away his arm even before he was born. It was more then enough evidence he needed for being sure that he was just wrong, him living was wrong. Yet he couldn't help but feel like he deserved to live, he wanted to live. Like every living being he just wanted to thrive, wanted to just be. It troubled him oh so much. Why was his life doomed from the start? Why was it so unfair?

The stranger spoke to him and he slowly looked up as he mentioned that they expected so much. The other was right in so many different aspects. The upper ring had so many little rules and standards. It was nearly impossible to uphold it from a normal person, let alone a hell spawn like himself. "They only want perfection in the upper ring," he said, almost mumbling. It was a fact that everyone knew her. The way he spoke was somewhat bitter, but also clear. The boy knew what was expected of him, even though he knew that he could never fit in here. He would be lucky if he even made it to his adult years. The thought alone resulted in him feeling oh so scared for a moment, but he quickly pushed those feelings down. It were these things that would cause him his life, he knew that much.

The man eventually told him that another instrument wouldn't have worked, something he shrugged to. For some time he stared at the ground, his eyes sometimes straying towards his fake limb as his mind went over the horrible class he just had. He couldn't tell Charles, nor could he tell Clarence. His father wouldn't like it and his uncle would only get concerned and tell on him. Both would result in disappointment. But then again, were they used to anything else with him? As he slowly looked up, his green eyes focusing on the other, he frowned a bit. Did the other also grow up in the upper ring? Bound to the same fate he had now. "What did you take classes in?" Something to get his mind of all these negative thoughts. It would help him to remain calm. It would help to keep these demons at bay.

The boy looked to be around the same age he’d been when he'd been sent to the lower ring and Ishir couldn’t help but reflect his own experiences onto the other. So young and already so much expected of him. In that regard he should call himself lucky that he hadn’t had to spend more than thirteen years in this place. Rotten to the core, that’s what this part of the city and the people in it were. He wanted to scoff at hearing upper ring and perfection in the same sentence, but kept the sound from coming out. This city was anything but perfect and the upper class only pretended they could be. “They don’t realise that’s impossible,” he said. The words could both relate to how the city would never clear itself of its infections and to how the boy would never be able to keep up with the expectations placed on him. Ishir had never been able to keep up with his parents’ hopes and dreams for him either.

The other didn’t react much to his next words, simply shrugging and keeping his gaze on the ground. Ishir kept quiet, waiting for a reaction. “I started with the piano, then added the violin later,” he answered when a question finally came. The piano hadn’t been for him, but his mother hadn’t let him give up on it. According to her, you had to keep doing something no matter how much you hated it or had been forced to do it in the first place. “I thought piano classes were the most boring thing in the world. Did anything so I could skip them.” That’s where his best friend at the time had come in. Working together, they would find a plan to escape and go onto their own adventure. The plans hadn't always worked out, but just having someone to share that with had already been a blessing.

❝ Everything I was afraid of happening, happened ❞

Perhaps it had been easier for him if he had stayed in the lower ring. It was where his kind lived; people who never reach anything within their life. Yet here he was, struggling and fighting for what he believed to be his future. The easy way out was no longer an option. As soon as those adoption papers were signed and he had set foot within the most glamorous area of Alderrath, it had been decided. It had been oh so nerve wrecking, to live in a society that only expected perfection and greatness. And to be trapped in a body that was anything but that meant that you were doomed from the start. Impossible, like the stranger stated to him. Isaac looked at him for a moment, before slowly nodding. For a moment he opened his mouth once more as to ask the other a question, but he refrained... Closing his mouth and letting the conversation play out on its own.

After his question, he got a response. The stranger had also started with the piano and had later added the violin to their arsenal of musical talents. The boy looked over the others face as he spoke, as if to find anything that could tell him more about these somewhat random facts. Eventually he got this in the form of actual words. Piano classes were supposedly the most boring thing in the world... So he... Skipped them? ISaac eyebrows rose a bit when he heard that. "Never got in trouble?" He could only imagine the disappointment his father would show if he did any of that. And if he was being completely honest. Seeing disapproval in the eyes of Charles left him more heartbroken and shaken than anything else. It was a man who had saved him from a place he hated so much... Although he did bring him here, a place where he would eventually meet his doom, it did also bring luxury with it. It was a duality of being both greedy and scared. He knew all too well what would happen to him if people found out what he really was.

He paused for a moment, looking over the other again, before letting out a sigh. "I should get going... Maybe.." He said softly, barely a whisper. He let his shoulders hang a bit as he averted his gaze, looking at the ground. The conversation hadn't really lifted his spirits, he still felt as miserable as he did before.

Of course he’d wanted to make his family happy. He’d have done anything to hear them say they were proud of him, but he could never keep up with their expectations so sometimes the thought of why even bother? had become too strong to ignore. “Sometimes,” he said. The disappointment in his mother’s eyes when he’d been caught had hurt, but she always carried that emotion when she looked at him anyway. The only time when he knew he’d truly messed up was when he’d been mauled up by a lycanthrope and had been bedridden, trying to stay conscious for long enough to see the disappointment mixed with sadness—they’d cared about him after all, though he’d forgotten that a long time ago—, but they’d shown their true colours in the end. “But it’s not like they weren’t disappointed no matter what I did.” Some of the anger he always carried with him flashed on his face, but he managed to put a lid on it quickly and exchanged the expression for a soft smile. “The freedom was worth getting in trouble for.”

The other let out a sigh and said that he should get going. “Doesn’t sound like you want to,” Ishir said. He definitely didn’t want to let the kid go yet. “What’s something you want to do?” Something fun might lift both their spirits and would hopefully make the boy open up to him. And on top of that, he truly wondered what the other would want to do if he was given an actual choice.