Killjoys

Chapter 2

"Maybe this was a bad idea," thought Arnaldo to himself as he walked the long and empty hallways of the school. He opened one of the classrooms and found it empty-again.

"Yeah, definitely a bad idea. Great job Caglione, you've done it again. You've bitten off more than you can chew," he kicked at nothing as he walked down the long hallway with his head hung in defeat.

"Of course there wouldn't be anyone in the school at these hours! Now you're going to have to pay dinner for that Minotaur of a man. And considering how big he is, I wouldn't be surprised if he could eat enough for an army."

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the faint sound of someone singing.

The singing in question was coming from the school's art room, whose door was left ajar. Arnaldo peeked his head in and saw a boy with midnight black hair painting on a canvas and quietly singing to himself.

The boy in question was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans with black sneakers. On his right ring finger he wore a silver ring, with delicately detailed flowers carved into it.

Arnaldo closed his eyes and tried to focus on the singing.

"There is darkness in my heart. And shadows will swallow me. And I see no future for me. So please, just let me be."

"Well, that's a bit-dark. But he does have a good singing voice. It's not perfect, he still needs some work. But I can see him becoming a great singer in no time. Now all I have to do is recruit him. Easy enough, time to turn on the Caglione charm."

He coughed loudly and the boy nearly fell out the stool he was sitting in. Swiftly turning his head, he turned around and looked at him with dark green eyes, covered partially by a single red highlight.

"W-What are you doing here?!" asked the boy, clearly nervous.

"Pardon me I was just-"

"Did you hear anything?!" Arnaldo blinked slowly at that question.

"I'm sorr-"

"Did you hear anything?!" asked the boy again, not looking directly at the Italian.

Arnaldo sighed once he realised what he meant.

"So this how we're gonna do it then huh?"

"Yes, I did hear something," the boy looked about ready to die and Arnaldo couldn't help but pity the poor kid.

"I heard very beautiful singing." The boy in black perked up a little hearing but still refused to look Arnaldo directly in the eyes.

"You mean that?"

"Sure. I mean, you obviously need to practice and the lyrics were a bit-depressing. But you have a lot of potentials," the boy's face turned a deep shade of red and his lips curved into a small smile.

He walked over to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. The black haired boy jerked up and looked up at him in fear, to which Arnaldo merely smiled down warmly at him and looked over his shoulder at the canvas.

"What are you making there?"

"Oh, that's just a painting that I have been working on. Nearly finished actually."

"May I?" the boy nodded and stepped aside for him to look at the painting.

In the middle of the painting was a small white figure, lacking one eye, with a black sclera and a red iris. From the form, the figure appeared to be female yet, it was kneeling down, clutching a blood red rose to her chest, as darkness slowly engulfed her into an abyss of blackness.

"That's a pretty good painting," complimented Arnaldo.

"Thank you-" responded the boy and Arnaldo didn't even have to look to know that he was flushing.

"What's your name?"

"M-Matt Friday. A first-year student of class 1C."

"Nice to meet you, Matt. My name is Arnaldo Caglione. I'm also a first-year student here. Class 1A. And I have a proposition for you," Matt arched an eyebrow at him.

"I'm offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity to join the school's music club."

"We have a music club?"

"Yeah, that was my reaction too," Matt looked at the ground beneath him and shuffled nervously with his feet.

"I-I don't-know-I'm not good with people-they make me nervous-"

"Oh, you don't say? I couldn't tell."

"But it would be a real shame to let such a talent like yours go to waste."

"Well- I wouldn't call it a talent-" mumbled Matt, his face turning as red as a tomato. "It's just a thing that I do-sometimes-"

"Then let me help you expand on that. Stick with me and you'll become one of the best damn singers that this school has ever seen!" said Arnaldo.

"-There's still my problem with people-"

"We'll work on that as well. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about," Matt thought about it, poking his fingers together and chewing on his upper lip.

"-How many people are there in the music club?" he asked, his voice visibly nervous.

"Three people."

"Just three?"

"Just three," Matt looked back down at his feet while Arnaldo extended his hand.

"Come on, Matt Friday. Shake hands with the devil," he stated, with a wide devilish grin, as if to drive the point home.

"...Ok-Ok. That can work. I can work with just three people."

"Are you sure?"

"No. No, I'm not. But-I believe that-over time-I'll get used to it," he stated as he reluctantly shook his hand.

"Excellent! Meet me in front of the school in ten minutes. We are going to have a little meeting there."

"O-Ok. I-I'll be there," he said, trembling slightly.

Arnaldo once again placed his hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm, reassuring smile, before he patted him and made his way out of the art room.

"Alright. One down, one to go. I think this call for a small celebration," he thought to himself as he made his way out to the back exit.