Chapter Text
An NYU Lecture Hall
December 15th, 1970
“It’s important to remember that when you’re attempting to write something creatively for the first time, you must stick to writing what you know. If you’ve experienced tragedy, write about it. Channel that emotion and— and pain into your writing. Show me something that will send a chill up my spine. Show me something that will allow me to momentarily step into your world. I say this because writing about what you know will ensure that your work is dripping with passion. And that passion will immediately translate to your reader, swallowing them whole so your experiences become theirs. As you move through life you’ll begin to realize that you aren’t just writing tragedies anymore. You’re writing dramas, comedies, mysteries, romances, etcetera. All because you are living. There’s nothing more to it. Allow yourself to live and your work will follow naturally.” Todd paused and looked around the room, letting his words echo around the lecture hall.
These lectures were his favorite part about teaching. They brought him back to his time at Welton sitting in Mr. Keating’s class, listening to him talk about poetry as if it were his first language. He’s the reason why Todd had decided to take the role of a part time professor at NYU. Their previous creative writing professor had resigned the year before, and when they reached out to Todd he knew he couldn’t turn the opportunity down. Though all of Keating’s lessons had left a mark on Todd, there was one in particular that changed him in ways he was still uncovering. It was December 15th in his senior year at Welton. The date is just as important as the lesson itself, carrying a significance of its own. Mr. Keating decided to take them outside despite the ground being thick with the year’s first snow. The Poets had followed closely behind him in the same way ducklings trail after their mothers before they learn how to swim. It wasn’t long before the class had realized he had taken them into the middle of the woods surrounding the school. They stopped in a small clearing. Evergreen trees and dead flowers encircled them, and at the center of it all, there was a platform like rock. “Now, you may all be wondering why I brought you out here in the middle of the winter.” He had said it with a smirk that Todd knew all too well. And to be honest, one that he feared. His eyes landed on the rock behind Keating. It was the rock that made it click. Keating was going to have them read. Before he could spiral any further, Charlie spoke up from behind him. “To have us freeze to death?” “Bzzz, not at all Mr. Dalton, but thanks for playing.” At this the entire class began to laugh at the bit that had been going between the two of them since the beginning of the year. Keating simply smiled and put up a hand to silence the boys. “I brought you all out here today for a lesson that will scare the hell out of Mr Anderson over here.” He glanced at Todd, who was pointedly avoiding eye contact with him. “Todd, since I’m sure you’ve already figured it out, would you mind telling the class what we’ll be doing today?” It figured that he would start the lesson off with putting him on the spot, just to throw him out on that rock to do a spontaneous poetry reading in front of the entire class. “We’re um— we’re gonna be reading today. Poetry, I uh, I presume.” Todd murmured. As Mr. Keating began to explain the lesson, Todd felt an arm come to rest around his shoulders. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Before he could say anything, Neil leaned in and whispered “You’re gonna be fine, Todd. Just focus on me, alright?” He had said it with such conviction that it caught Todd off guard. He had such an odd way of knowing what to say to Todd and when to say it. Instead of responding, he had just leaned into Neil’s touch and took a deep breath as the other boy rested his chin on him. Looking back on it, they really should’ve been more careful. But they were young, they didn’t have it in them to care.
“Before I let you all go, I just have one more thing to say. Consider it parting advice. When you write, whether it's poetry, a novel, or a song, do not be afraid to confront whatever skeletons are in your closet. Whatever secrets you have it is okay to let them out. I encourage you to let them out. Speaking from personal experience, it's the things we fight to hide that become our strongest works.” He paused once more, taking a moment to look at his students. To his surprise, he even had a few visitors in the back. Turnouts like this always seemed to happen during his most vulnerable lessons. “Alright, that’s all for today guys but if any of you have any questions please feel free to hang back.”
As everyone slowly filed out of the room, he wasn’t surprised to see that none of the students had stayed behind. Most of them opted to ask their questions during office hours rather than staying in class. It was funny seeing how many of them were just as shy as Todd was when he was their age. Well, as he still was. He had just gotten a lot better at hiding it. He took his time packing up his things, he’d never admit it but going back to his apartment was always the hardest part of his day. There was something about the emptiness of his room that made the entire apartment feel haunted. And in a way, it was.
As he was getting ready to leave, he heard someone clearing their throat towards the back of the lecture hall. Apparently one of his students was brave enough to stay after class. He turned around, straining to see who was there. “How can I—” but the words died on his tongue. As the visitor moved closer, there was no denying who it was. It couldn’t be him. He disappeared 10 years ago, there was no guarantee that he was even alive. He’s imagining it, surely. Despite himself, Todd took a step forward. An instinct his body had never unlearned because to his surprise, he knew the man standing in front of him. He was staring at Neil Perry.
“Holy shit.”
“Hey, Todd. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”