Chapter Text
Thomas Simons.
Notorious for being loud, annoying, and disruptive.
He’s the one who leaves rude messages on the whiteboards in messy handwriting. He’s the one who skips class, or at least hardly pays attention. He’s the one who never completes his homework, refuses to wear the PE uniform.
How did Tommy get this reputation? He hardly knew himself.
All he knew was that the teachers didn’t know him. No one knew him. He was invisible, a ghost of himself. He didn’t know who he was or what his purpose was, so he just picked up the identity everyone else gave him.
The dirty little crimeboy.
Did he enjoy being called that? Not really. But what else could he do? He couldn’t prove to them anything. He didn’t understand any of his classes. He fails all his tests. But because he’s invisible, no one tries to help him. They all think it’s because he doesn’t care, and at this point Tommy’s not even sure if he cares anymore. It all seemed pointless to keep trying.
He lost his mom when he was three. He’s moved on from foster home to foster home.
Until he landed in his current one with Dream.
He’s already had six detentions at this high school, and it’s only been a year.
Now it’s the first day of school. Everyone is talking about their great summer vacations and parties.
For Tommy, Summer only meant more time around Dream.
Fixing his sleeves so he could ensure they covered his arms, Tommy pushed the door with a struggling effort. It hurt a little, but he made it. He jumped as he entered the hallway, flooded with chatty students and laughter. Tommy froze with the action, gripping his textbooks to his chest. But they were heavy, and Tommy didn’t want to stand there very long. Dream said he could carry his own books, and never gave him a backpack.
Tommy ran through the hallway to find his first class. His eyes darted from side-to-side, hoping they wouldn't see him. He just wanted to get through at least his first day without getting thrown against the lockers, being taunted by names and spits.
Glancing everywhere but ahead of him, he was running so fast that he bumped into someone. His books and papers flew everywhere, and Tommy gasped as someone grabbed his hand to keep him from falling. Fear filled Tommy, because any kind of touch for him meant harm. Hesitantly, he looked to see who he ran into.
Tommy stopped when he was greeted by soft brown eyes and a kind smile.
He hadn’t seen this teacher before.
The teacher pulled him back on his feet, Tommy pulling his hand back as soon as possible.
“I- I’m sorry,” Tommy stammered. He bent down to gather his supplies, and was surprised to see the teacher bending down to help.
“That’s alright,” the teacher answered calmly, handing the books back to Tommy. “I’m just glad you didn’t fall.”
Tommy clutched his books closer, uncertain about the stranger. He had learned not to trust anyone. Especially new people, because he wouldn’t know what they would do to him.
The teacher’s smile faltered for a second as he saw Tommy’s nervousness. He reached out a hand.
“I’m Mr. Soot. And you are?”
“Tommy,” he replied, keeping his hands clutched to his books.
“Tommy,” Mr. Soot repeated, smiling again. “That’s a nice name.”
“Are you new?” Tommy murmured through the hair falling over his face.
Mr. Soot nodded. “Mhm. I teach Creative Writing. I don’t happen to have you in my class, do I?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you look over your schedule?”
Tommy shrugged. He wanted to look at it the night before, but Dream had other plans.
“Here, I can help.” Tommy flinched as the teacher reached in and picked up the schedule that just happened to be lying on top of his books. Mr. Soot cocked his head in concern, but went back to looking at the paper.
“Ah! I see you have Phil for your first class. He’s a good friend of mine!” He gave the schedule back to Tommy. “PE. That’s in the gym. Would you like me to help you find it?”
“I can do it myself,” Tommy spat. He did not want this man babying him like a lost 2nd grader.
Mr. Soot laughed. It was a warm laugh. A little melodic too.
“Okay, then. Well if you need any help, my classroom is right up there.” He pointed up the stairs. “My room is the fourth one down the hall up there. You just come over if you need to find your way somewhere.”
The bell rang, and students all around ran to their rooms. Tommy took the opportunity to continue his run, not looking back to the new teacher.
“It was nice meeting you Tommy!”
Yeah, yeah. Pretty soon you’ll learn who I am and start hating me too.
Today wasn’t too much of a bad day. But usually that’s how the first day of school goes. Tommy would sit in class and hear the teacher keep on talking and talking, getting to know each student and doing weird things like icebreaker questions. Then Tommy would get a syllabus that would tell him how many assignments he would have to keep up with while Dream continued to oppress him at home, which always makes doing homework hard.
The time finally came for the last class of the day. Fatigued, Tommy pulled up his schedule to see which class was going to be his last class of his absolutely mundane day.
His eyes widened when he saw “Creative Writing - Mr. Soot” on his list.
Great, now that weird tall guy was going to be his teacher for the entire year. Now he’ll really get to know who Tommy was.
Recalling Mr. Soot’s directions, Tommy walked through the hallway, up the steps, and down another hallway. He was almost at the fourth room when he heard some voices. Distinctive and intimidating.
“Hey, Simons!”
Tommy groaned internally, turning to face the three boys.
“Nice hairdo,” another one teased.
“Just let me get to class,” Tommy muttered. “I don’t feel like fighting today.”
“Oh, you want a fight then?” The ringleader grinned. He cracked his knuckles, his eyes menacing.
“I didn’t say tha-”
Suddenly, the boy pinned him to the wall, Tommy holding back a cry as his head was knocked forcefully to the concrete. He stared down at the ground, letting the boy do as he wished.
He felt a blow at his ankles, which made him fall to the ground. Tommy shouted as he landed on his previously injured ribs. The boy crouched down and jerked Tommy’s sleeves back, revealing horrid scars and bruises.
All three bullies laughed at him, kicking him more until Tommy rolled on the ground. Tommy did his best not to whimper, so he wouldn’t appear weak.
Eventually, the boys stopped, their hunger for blood satisfied. Once they were gone, Tommy stood back up. He picked up his books, pulled his sleeves back on, and walked into class like nothing happened.
As he walked into the room, he was spotted by Mr. Soot. Recognition grew on his face, and he grinned widely.
“Oh! Hello, Tommy! So you are in my class!”
Tommy shrugged as he plopped down in a seat, all the way in the back. He dumped his books on the floor and stared at the wall next to him.
Mr. Soot seemed a little surprised by Tommy’s coldness, but he ignored it for now. Instead, he prepared his materials to start class.
Once the bell rang, he started talking. Tommy did his best to ignore him, but his head and his side throbbed with pain, and it would actually help if he focused on something other than the wall and his injuries. So for once, he actually listened in class, hearing what Mr. Soot had to say.
“So this class is mostly for fun. And that means no homework or tests- just maybe two writing projects, but I’m willing to help you if you need it.”
All of the students were excited to hear that. Meanwhile, Tommy scoffed. Here Mr. Soot, the new teacher, is coming in promising to be “different.” He knew- it would just be a matter of time before he would become like the other teachers. Ignorant and uncaring about his circumstances. Before long, Mr. Soot would be throwing mounds of homework on Tommy, expecting him to keep up and accusing him of being lazy when he can’t do it.
Tommy sighed, his head slumping on the table. This was the exact reason why he never put effort into his classes. The teachers were only here to throw more and more work on him, exhausting him and eating him up.
But still, Tommy couldn’t help but at least be somewhat interested in what Mr. Soot was saying. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was his calming voice, or the way he talked that made anything sound interesting. He would laugh sometimes and make jokes. There were times that his jokes made Tommy smile a little, but not much because he was still straining with his injuries.
The bell rang and students ran out of the classroom to get out. School is over, and now they can go home and enjoy whatever normal kids enjoy when they get home. But for Tommy, the bell only meant he would have to trudge on his day, to come home and meet those cold green eyes and chilling smile. Everyday was just a cycle for Tommy. He found no happiness at school, and no happiness at home. No one welcomed him in this world, and no one was willing to even pass a second glance.
He sighed, gathering his heavy books and limping towards the door. He was about to reach out an occupied hand to open it when someone opened it for him. Surprised, Tommy turned his face to see who would even care to open the door for him.
His eyes widened when he saw it was Mr. Soot, helping him for the second time of the day. Concern was spread all over his face as he held the door, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes worried.
“Tommy, are.. are you okay?”
“Of course I’m fine,” Tommy muttered, not looking him in the eye.
“But child,” he whispered. “You’re limping.”
Tommy shook his head, denying that he needed help. “I’m fine. I need to get home.”
He dragged his feet on, stumbling once in a while. He was about to leave when he tripped over something hollow, Mr. Soot yelping as he fell face-down.
“Oh- Tommy!” he shouted. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have put that there.”
While he was still processing his thoughts, Mr. Soot tried to help him up. But Tommy instinctively swatted his hand away as he lifted himself up, sitting on the floor as pain searing in his body. He groaned slightly, then shifted his attention when he saw a guitar sitting in the corner.
“You- you play?” he asked curiously.
Mr. Soot nodded. “Well, I used to at least. Not much anymore. But I still like to keep Simone with me in my classrooms.” He stuck out the tip of his tongue. “It makes me look smart.”
“‘Simone?’” Tommy laughed loudly, the first time he’s truly laughed in a while. “You call your guitar ‘Simone??’”
Mr. Soot smiled (perhaps more fondly than Tommy wanted to admit) and laughed too. “Why not? Don’t you name your instruments?”
Tommy’s expression fell. He stared down at his worn out tennis shoes, a reminder of how little luxuries he really deserved in life.
“Oh,” Mr. Soot echoed. “Do you not play or..”
Tommy’s eyes drifted to the guitar beside him again. He wanted to pluck a few strings, but he didn’t touch it out of habit.
“I want to play one day.”
“Well I can teach you!” Mr. Soot said through a grin.
Tommy’s gaze shot up. “You- really mean it?”
“Of course!” he laughed. “I’m a teacher after all. It’s my job to make sure you get to learn anything you want to learn.”
Tommy jumped up, picking up his books and bouncing out the door. “Thanks, Mr. Soot!”
“Anytime, Tommy. Anytime.”