Davyn stared at the school building, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was actually doing this. He'd never seen the building in the dark and it looked strangely eerie. Only the lights in the dorm building were turned on as students most likely got ready to call it a day.

He'd be an intruder in there, just someone looking for an escape. But, after all, what was wrong with that? He had the right to be there as much as any of the other kids. His options didn't look fantastic anyway. He sure as hell didn't want to go home, and by then he'd extinguish all decent driving routes. It wasn't calming anymore, just frustrating.

His mind made up, he reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a few of his tapes, stuffed them in his jacket pocket and got out of the car.

The path to the building seemed to go on forever and he found himself studying the Georgian style architecture which resembled that of Harvard. Anything to delay the inevitable for a few more seconds. Though no one was forcing him to do this. It was his choice so he would own up to it.

You can't be forced into anything. Any decision is a reflection of a path of those offered to you that you choose to take.

His father's words seemed to haunt him as he walked towards the door. He'd been right, as usual. Also, not entirely truthful. He'd had no choice when it came to the accident, to his death, to his mother collapsing.

Your choice resides in how you handle it.

He hated that particular piece of wisdom. No matter how he handled it, it didn't change the outcome or the reality of it. Entering a freaking school building was easy in comparison. All he had to do was act like he belonged.

Without slowing his pace down, he entered the reception area of the dorms. There were a few students still milling about and the receptionist was too drawn by the latest episode of Cheers on the television behind him to take any note of potential intruders.

Davyn strolled past his desk and the rec area, heading for the door that tied the building to the rest of the school. It was empty, but the lights were still on. He'd expected as much seeing the late hour, so he casually made his way past the art studio, the music room and the drama center until he reached the gym. The doors were locked and the room beyond drenched in darkness.

Using his key, Davyn opened it and found himself in the cavernous room. Even if he'd spent a lot of time there, he'd never seen it empty. His footsteps echoed as he headed for the closest light switch. Once the overhead lights were on, he had to admit it looked a lot bigger with the stands empty and no students loitering or training.

The space, even if a tad creepy, was very familiar. It brought Davyn a sense of peace to be in a place he'd often excelled. Just to prove to himself that he still had it in him, he dropped his jacket on one of the benches and headed for the dangling ropes. It only took him a few moments to climb up one of them all the way to the top. The gym was even more impressive in its emptiness from up there.

After a few moments of admiring the view, he slid back down and landed with a loud thump. Yep, he still had it, though he hadn't trained in weeks. He should really get back to that as soon as possible. Physical activity was bound to release some of the tension in him, especially something that implied hitting things. For now, he didn't have that luxury, but he did have an empty basketball court and a stack of balls he could use.

He picked one up and started dribbling, bouncing the ball from one hand to the other. It was second nature to him to bend his knees, lead the ball between his legs and then back, twist it around to fool any approaching opponent. Then he ran at the nearest basket and took his shot from the side. The ball went through the hoop with a satisfying swish of the net.

Still in a run, he picked up another ball and repeated the movement, scoring another basket. Then another, and another, until his breathing became labored and his muscles burned. But for once, his mind was blissfully empty as he focused on his movements and the end result was reached. It was easy. Sink the ball into the hoop. Do it faster, better.

He finally had control over something.

As he stopped for a break, resting his hands on his bent knees and panting, his pulse thundered in his ears. For once, it lessened the near constant pain in his temples. He'd long run out of migrene medicine and he'd have to figure out other ways to dull the pain. This seemed to be working.

He spent a few minutes gathering all the balls and bringing the container next to the penalty line. Then, he practiced his free shots. Since these weren't as challenging as running, his mind began to wander again.

Score.

His father in the morgue.

Score.

His mother in her room at the asylum, lost in her own world.

Score.

Freider acting as if they'd lost a toaster, not their family. Ignoring Ron, always at odds with him, turning their home into a nightmare.

"Argh!"

The ball bashed against the panel, nowhere near the basket. Davyn crouched and clutched his head, trying to drive the thoughts back. His legs shook from the effort and his lungs still burned. Sweat dripped down his back. He needed something to quiet his mind.

"Okay, get a hold of yourself."

He stood and took a deep breath. There was something else he had up his sleeve. He headed for his jacket from where he picked up his tapes, then strode over to the sound system. Within moments, the opening riff of Back in Black by AC/DC started playing. He turned it up until he couldn't hear his own thoughts anymore than returned to the court and resumed his freeshots. The balls went through the hoop as his mind sang along to the lyrics.

By the time Shake a Leg began, he moved back to practice on three pointers. It was hit and miss there since he'd yet to find the perfect move to ensure a basket from every angle, but he had all the time in the world to practice now.

"Will you turn that noise down already?"

Davyn jerked towards the exit and the ball he'd launched missed the panel completely.

There was a girl sitting in front of the door, her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at him. The only reason he'd heard her was because the song was fading towards its end. By the annoyed look on her face, it was very possible that she'd been there screaming at him for a while.

She wore jean overalls and a yellow sweater underneath which matched her blond French braids. She looked slightly familiar for some reason.

"What are you even doing here?" she demanded, right before Shoot to Thrill started playing.

Damn, that was the perfect song to shoot hoops to and she was ruining it. But it was obvious that she wasn't going away, so with a deep sigh, he walked over to the sound system and turned the music down.

"What?" he asked, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

She squinted at him. "What do you mean what? The noise!"

He fought not to roll his eyes, but failed. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"You're not the only one here, you jerk."

He glanced over his shoulder at the empty gym. "Um, yes I am. Or at least I was until you decided to crash the party."

Her light blue eyes blazed with fury and he had to admit it was slightly fun messing with her. "I was in the other room!" She pointed over her shoulder. "And I can't focus with all your noise."

"Why are you even here at this hour?"

"You don't even have the right to be here!"

"And you do?"

She picked up the nearest ball and tossed it at him. "Yes! The students in the dorms are allowed to be here."

He caught it without difficulty. "Are you implying you know everyone in the dorms?" When she didn't answer, which was answer enough, he scoffed. "Either play me or get lost." He threw the ball back at her.

Part of him expected her to catch it and show him she was actually really good at basketball. Instead, the ball hit her in the stomach and had her stepping back. She wrapped her arms around her middle, her eyes instantly filling with tears.

He would've felt bad if she hadn't thrown the ball at him first and if she wasn't such a pansy. He hadn't thrown it to hurt her. It was easy enough to catch.

"You're such a jerk," she said between her teeth.

"File a complaint." He picked up another ball and turned the music up again. "I have as much right to be here as you, so mind your own beeswax." Before she could answer, he turned the music all the way up.

Whatever she said next was lost among the lyrics and he turned his back on her. He knew she couldn't get him in trouble since it was too late for her to legitimately be there. So instead of catering to her whims, he returned to his practice. The next time his eyes drifted towards the door, she was gone.

At that very moment, he remembered where he'd seen her before. She was the girl Harkin had tried to extort before he'd interfered. She'd slunk away like a rat then, much like she did now.

♣️

The new schedule worked for Davyn. After his late night training session, he'd managed something that at least resembled sleep. Sure, it had been filled with nightmares and he'd woken up a gazillion times, but he didn't need that much coffee in the morning, which could only be a good thing. He also didn't fall asleep in class anymore.

Therefore, the healthy new habit needed to continue. Finish classes, go to detention where he'd finish off his homework, then head for the gym and exhaust himself throwing the ball around to the blaring chords of his favorite bands. This way, he could effectively dodge Freider who was asleep by the time he got home and didn't care enough to stay awake and ask questions.

Even better, his new solo training showed in his official training sessions, which made coach Johnson not regret handing him the keys. His teammates were also extatic about his improvement and he got to have some positive human interaction for once. This made him wonder if he could confide in any of them and maybe seek a closer friendship, but they'd already gotten used to his flippant attitude, so they let him be.

Maybe it was easier this way, because he was too exhausted to play nice. It was why he was also avoiding speaking to Ron about anything else than observations they made on their drive to school. At some point, after he was done feeling like a vessel for nothingness, Davyn would lay into him a little and point out that he should make better friends.

But for now, he had his music and the basketball field, and it was more effective than any conversation and any reassurance a person had given him so far.

Another positive aspect in his week was the suspension Harkin had gotten after the drug selling incident. It had his bullies scrambling around without any purpose, and everything seemed a lot less tense around the school. Than there was the absence of the noise police which seemed to have taken the hint and left him alone. At least until Saturday night.

The weekend was a dreary affair. Davyn hated the idea of having to bump into Freider around the house, so after a sulky, silent breakfast he shared with his older brother and Ron, he retreated to the garage and found something to do there. First, he worked out a little, then practiced some of the combat moves his father had taught him. Since he had no one to spar with, that got old really quickly, so he moved to the car Sirius had been trying to teach him how to fix. It was one of the few things Davyn wasn't particularly talented at, but he'd enjoyed the lessons because it was time spent with his father.

"Will you quit wasting your time in here?" Freider asked from the doorway. "It's past lunch."

"So what?" Davyn mumbled, trying to figure out where the tiny sprockets he had were supposed to go. "Did you cook something and it's getting cold?"

"Why don't you cook something? Since you're an adult now, you should start pitching in around here."

"Must I really remind you that one fifth of this house is mine?"

"Must I really remind you that I fill the fridge?"

"You're the only one with a job, Freider."

"Have you ever thought of getting one yourself, dumbass?"

Davyn slammed the hood of the car down. No, he hadn't, because they were not an impoverished family struggling to get by. They had money. A lot of it and all of them, including Ron, except his funds were still administrered by Freider.

"Fine, I'll start buying food, too."

"And chores," Freider pointed out.

"We have a housekeeper."

"Not anymore."

Davyn gritted his teeth at this new decision Freider had taken without consulting anyone else first. "And why, oh wise one, do we no longer have a housekeeper?"

"Don't get smart with me, brat. Why should we have a housekeeper? We're three people who should be looking after themselves."

Themselves, not each other. Because to Freider, they were nothing but individuals who were forced to live under the same roof by circumstances. Of course there was no family left. So Davyn had absolutely no reason to keep talking to this asshole.

Instead, he got into his car and drove off, ignoring Freider's protests, and stopped at the nearest diner for lunch. He took his sweet time cleaning up his plate, hoping that Freider at least had the sense to feed Ron who was under his care. Afterwards, he just drove around until it got dark. It was still to early to go home, so he stopped in front of the school.

Yes, he technically had no reason to be there, but the dorms were of course still open, so he could get to the gym without any issues. After so many evening, the receptionists already knew him and didn't ask any questions. Even if the rec room was filled with students, most of them reading or playing board games, the corridor beyond was empty and silent, as usual. His footsteps echoed as he made his way to the gym and unlocked it.

The familiarity of it eased his breathing and calmed his twisting nerves. As he prepared his music and brought the balls within reach, he wondered if he could buy a place for himself to escape that house. But he would feel like shit for abandoning Ron, and he might still want to be there if his mother miraculously got better. Not that she was making any progress.

Of course, he thought as he started his training with running shots, his father did own a lot of proprieties since he'd been a real estate developer, and he doubted Freider even had time to identify all of them, let alone sell them, so there was always the possibility of disappearing to one of those places. But he'd rather not focus on that, so he stuck to the music and shooting hoops.

At least until the current song faded and a frustrated groan cut through the momentary silence. Davyn halted just as he was about to try for another three pointer and glared towards the door.

There she was again, in her stupid overalls, with her silly French braids, scoffing at him. "There's no way you're at it during the weekend as well," she spat out. "What, don't you have a home and a family?"

Her wards jabbed him for some reason, even if she didn't mean anything. "And what if I told you that I didn't? Would you feel like a hot pile of garbage then?"

Her eyes widened for the briefest moment before she seemed to realize he was making fun of her and they narrowed in dislike. At least she was not a complete idiot. And this time, she was brave enough to actually stride to the sound system and turn the volume way down herself.

"Hands off, unless you want to lose them," he snarled.

"And how would you do that, you obstinate bastard?" she asked with feigned interest. "Do you carry a knife? Are you dangerous?"

He growled and headed for her. She was no longer mildly amusing, she was seriously annoying. "Go back to what you were doing and leave me alone."

"What I was doing is bothered by your noise!"

He didn't care, so he turned the music back up. The moment his hand was off the dial, she turned it back down. He grabbed the dial and turned up the volume, this time keeping his hand there.

She probably groaned in frustration, but it didn't take her long to say something that sounded an awful lot like 'Have it your way', before heading for the door. Only when she reached it did he realize she'd pulled a pair of scissors from the pocket of her overalls and was actually heading for the electrical outlet and not the door.

"No, what the hell are you doing?"

Before he could do more than take a step towards her, she cut the chord to the speakers. The music stopped abruptly and she jumped back, cradling her arm, the scissors abandoned on the floor.

"You fucking moron! You could've died!"

She didn't answer, just whimpered, holding her arm against herself. He finally reached her and glared from her to the cut wire. A quick assessment showed no signs of a burn, but he still only touched her through her clothes to make sure no residual electricity would shock him.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" he mumbled as he straightened her arm and rubbed her skin.

She sucked air through her teeth and didn't answer. He continued to rub until her muscles untensed underneath her checkered shirt. Then he stepped back because he didn't really want to be infected by her stupidity.

"You could've always pulled the plug for the same effect," he added, feeling the need to further show her how dumb she was.

She shook her head, even if she still looked rattled. "Then you would've been able to just plug it back in." Her voice was as shaky as her, sounding a bit lower than before.

She had a point there, but her words brought with them a sense of realization and dread.

"Fuck!"

He'd been too distracted by her almost killing herself to acknowledge the implications of her actions. Sanders had given him the key under the condition that he wouldn't ruin anything. The sound system was kaput.

"What?" she muttered, still cradling her arm.

"You destroyed the sound system. Which means I will no longer be allowed to be in here."

He expected her to gloat. After all, it was what she'd wanted. For some reason it bothered him more that she looked confused and maybe a little regretful. The anger was so sudden, joined by an excruciating headache, that he had to clench his fists to stop himself from crying out. He needed to get out of there before he shoved her or something.

It was difficult to move at a normal pace, but he forced himself to grab his jacket and his car keys and walk out the door without a mean word and without bumping her shoulder. He only managed to unclench his jaw once he was back inside his car and driving off.

Maybe it wasn't over. He still had Sunday until anyone would check. But he had no idea how to undo what had been done.

And all because he'd been too loud.

♣️♣️♣️

Well, Davyn has other things to worry about now 😅 guess you shouldn't mess with people who like silence.

And that silly girl almost getting herself electrocuted... So desperate for silence. But at least we had some fun.

Stick around to see where this might be going. Less depression and more fun banter to come. And don't forget to vote and comment for much needed support.