A lot of people think that high school and its drama are left behind after you graduate. All the cliques and groups who would reject someone below par, all the piles of homework, all the ( )oken hearts. Well, there's something you need to know.
College is worse.
***
Evermore Academy for the Musically Gifted is like any other school, only worse. Instead of having a lot of diverse groups who each like their own thing, Evermore has two sides. The Classicals and the Moderns.
The Classicals (or Classies, as the Moderns refer to them) are firmly rooted in studies and fascination with the classical music. The old composers, Mozart, Beetoven, Dubussy, and the masters of today, Shore, Williams, Howard, Zimmerman. They want nothing to do with the hot artists of today, especially those of the pop or (le gasp) techno genre. Yes, Techno is among the greatest blasphemies in their book. They never acknowledge it as music and probably never will. One can always spot a Classical easily. They always wear the uniforms that have been part of their culture since the school was founded. Said uniform has always been optional, to promote free and creative thinking at the academy, but the Classicals wear them almost religiously. They're also easily spotted on 'casual friday' (the day that uniforms are not allowed) as they tend to dress business casual or dress casual. Jeans are never seen on a Classical. Classicals also always wear their hair in a neat style. Most prefer an updo or plait style, though a few like the simple curls. One thing remains common though. All the hair colours are natural ones. Never will you see a Classical with pink or blue hair. Like any society, there are unspoken ranks within the Classicals. The highest of which is Requiem. Requiem is the rank given to the most gifted, the most steadfast, the most worthy of Classicals. It is a coveted rank, and not one easily acheived. In this latest year, only three students have the rank of Requiem. The Classicals call them king, queen and princess.
On the complete other end of the spectrum, the Moderns em( )ace the music of today, moving with the times and often very quickly dropping anything that is an old fad (with the exception of 'classics' like Micheal Jackson and Alanis Morisette). Classical music is considered boring, stuffy, and not at all worth their time. Moderns are also always easy to spot, in fact, almost impossible to miss, despite their determination to NEVER wear the school's uniform. They wear clothes of many colours, often having said colours clash just for the heck of it. Jeans are a staple in their wardrobe and it is rare that you see a Modern in an outift that doesn't include at least one denim item. Their hair is always wild, on both style and colour. No Modern is the same, or even similar. Each one is different and has different tastes in the modern music. This has resulted in a few small subgroups, but all still get along fine. In the Moderns, there is a sub group who devote themselves to the Classicals greatest nightmare. Techno music. They are known as the DJs. Practially royalty in the Moderns society, the DJs are well known to all as the most advanced and 'in the know' of all the Moderns. The group gets bigger every year and it is them who wage campus wide war most strongly against the Classies. The 'battles' of this war vary from music related sing offs or play offs(the Classies' preferred method) to non music such as pranks and manhunts (the Moderns' method). To this day, niether side has officially claimed victory.
However, little do they all know that this is all about to change in ways they cannot imagine. The war will soon be over, and it all starts with a late add freshman named ____
*** (random jumping around)
"Welcome to Evermore, kid." Jason said, waving his arm across the huge campus before them as they walked down the covered 'main road' that went from one end of campus to the other, with little neatly manicured dirt and pebble paths ( )anching off from it. "If you can make it here...well, you've heard it before. And trust me, you'll make it. You wouldn't BE here if you couldn't make it."
Joss rolled his eyes, only half listening to the Senior as he let his eyes wander the campus, watching all of the students going by. A couple of girls with wicked hair waved at him and he waved back, making them giggle. In contrast, a few students walking by with immaculate outfits and perfectly plaited or otherwise styled hair ignored him completely.
"Don't mind the stuck up losers." Jason said, watching Joss frowning at them. "They're just the Classies. That's how they are." he pushed the freshman in front of him as they came up to one of the tables set up on the lawns for study groups and such. "Come on, meet the crew." he clapped his shoulder as they came to a stop. "Yo, guys! Say hello to Joss. He's a late add freshie."
There were three people in Jason's 'crew' that Joss could tell. One, a girl who looked about Jason's age with shocking purple hair done up in a messy twist and ( )ight green eyes, spoke first, but not to Joss. "You're late, Jazz. We were supposed to start working on our composition twenty minutes ago."
"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Clary." he replied with a roll of his eyes. "I was just showing around the new kid here."
"Yes, you always have an excuse. And don't call me Clary." her eyes flashed angrily. "You know I hate that."
"Come on, I'll let you call me Jace."
"Hell no!"
"You know this is all because you told him you didn't like City of Bones, right?" another voice spoke up, sounding amused. It had come from behind a sleek silver macbook and belonged to a thin, tanned skinned boy with silver hair gelled into crazy spikes and blood red eyes that Joss knew had to be contacts gleaming behind some wicked looking glasses. "You should know better by now than to tell him things you don't like...I would think after being with him for almost four years, you would get this, Rissa."
The girl groaned. "Don't say with. It makes it sound like we're together."
Jason tilted his head. "Are we not?" he asked in an innocent tone that fooled positively no one.
"Shut up, Jason. And for the record, Hell will freeze over a thousand times before that EVER happens."
"Call me Jace. I like Jace."
"*I* don't!"
"Oh will you two just shut up?" the last person in the group finally spoke up, a girl with tanned skin like the spiky haired boy's and dark blue, almost black hair that fell straight as a board down her back and over her dark grey eyes. "We HAVE work to do."
"Sheesh, you're as bad as Clary, Medusa!" Jason complained.
"Don't call me Clary!"
"Clary, Clary, Clary!"
The other girl, Medusa, rolled her eyes and opened her backpack, taking out a folder that was the same deep blue as her hair. "Come on, Wren...Looks like we have to do all the work ourselves...again."
The thin boy chuckled, moving his computer over so he could sit next to her. "This is a surprise to you?"
"No, just irritating." she started making notes on the sheet music in front of her. "They act like THEY are the siblings here."
Joss, always quick on any uptake, cut in. "Wait...you two are...siblings?!" he asked, looking between the two of them. Upon first glance, they only shared the tan skin, but as he looked a little closer, they had the same angular face and thin frame.
"I try not to acknowledge it, but yes. Wren is my younger ( )other." Medusa replied, not looking up from her work.
"Did you HAVE to add the 'younger' bit?" Wren half whined. "It's only by a year!"
"Yes. A year LESS."
Wren rolled his eyes. "She only always says that cos I'm so much taller than her that no one would know otherwise." he said to Joss with a smirk.
"Shut up." Again, she didn't look up as she gave him a smack upside the head.
Wren dodged it, laughing. When he came back to the upright position, he turned to Joss. "So. Seeing as you've not had a proper introduction to any of us at all, I'll give you the digest version. I'm Wren Shizuo. Yeah, that's my real name. My parents are nature fanatics. You know this is my sister, who goes by the name of Medusa, however that is not her real name. Her real name is--"
"My real name is 'One more word, Wren, and I smother you in your sleep'." Medusa said dangerously.
Wren laughed, but didn't say more. "Okay okay...Let's see, where was I...Oh yeah!" he pointed at the two still arguing. "That's Clarissa Amberden. If you value your life, you'll call her Rissa and not Clary."
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