Chapter Text
C alamity. I was always looking for a calamity, an event that would change my life some way or another, but in a beautiful way. I never had the most eventful childhood, but that never meant I should’ve been feeling as empty as I did when I got older. Not empty, but, as if something was missing. Something important.
My mother suggested I was thinking negatively on the life around me, which caused me to feel negative on the inside. She believed in "manifestation", that if you thought hard enough about something, you could manifest it into existence. I always asked her to manifest more money in our pockets into existence, but she was never fond of that reply.
"Mr. Lorenz?"
I flinched, startled by a sudden hand on my shoulder interrupting my reflection on my life. I had been holding my paintbrush out in front of the canvas when I zoned out.
The tip of the paintbrush covered in green paint just narrowly avoided hitting the canvas.
“Please, don’t touch me. Yes, what is it?”
I swiped the hand off my shoulder as I turned around. I was greeted by the face of one of my students whose name I couldn’t remember, it was quite early into the new school year.
He didn’t seem to care about what I had just said as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I’m gonna be late on turning in my first project."
“What? But it’s just a questionnaire talking about yourself..”
“And, can I go to the bathroom?”
I stared back at him for a moment before focusing on the table of rowdy boys just behind him, all writing on each other’s papers and cracking jokes. It was already shaping up to look like a tough year.
With a sigh, I jerked my head towards the door to signal him to leave.
At least he had the courtesy to ask me before he left. The same couldn’t be said about one of the boys from the same table who up and left the room right after the other.
It wasn’t uncommon for the school to place troublemakers away from each other despite their chosen classes, however, it seemed they only created new and increasingly more annoying groups wherever they went.
I glanced at the clock, noticing the class only had 5 minutes before it ended. I stood up from my stool and walked over to my cluttered desk.
“We’ll start on more artsy stuff tomorrow, but for now, please finish and hand in your papers. I’m excited to read them.”
I called out to the class, though whispering the last bit to myself, as the bell tuned in with its shrill. A few students waved to me on their way out the door, to which I waved back, adding a "stay safe". I had officially finished my first two art classes of the year. Through the bad apples, I already saw more shining young talents who had the gleaming hope in their eyes like all younglings do.
I believed in every single one of them and their abilities, even if they didn’t seem too fond of me and my class at the beginning.
I gathered the stack of papers that had just been handed in and slid them into my crossbody bag.
One thing I love about new school years is getting to read about my students and their aspirations.
I had my own little questionnaire I designed all by myself when I first started teaching, covered in doodles, along with questions I came up with on my own. Looking into the lives of so many different people is fascinating, but I figured I should save it for later.
After two periods we were given a break, which most students used for last minute studying.
Right then, I was using it to set up in my new classroom for the year. I was used to taking up random subjects here and there when the school was out of staff, which it usually always was with our small population, and this year I was given English Language Studies.
As it was a bit of a more advanced English class, I was nervous to see if my methods would stick and I could carry the class to its full potential.
I’d never taught languages other than German up until that point, so I was trudging new territory. However, I had lesson plans ready to go.
I’ll spare you the details of the long and uneventful day, the rest of my classes went as good as they could go with half asleep students.
I was more than ready to go home when the bell rang, however, I had to put home on the back burner when the intercom announced a staff meeting. I suspected it to be the usual introduction to new staff members and going over what the school year would look like, and I was right.
I shuffled into the staff room and took a seat near the other arts teachers, particularly next to a familiar Mr. Kruspe, our enthusiastic drama arts teacher.
I like to keep my work life and personal life separate, and while I was on friendly terms with all of the staff, I didn’t like to cross the line and call them my friends. They were all my colleagues, some more reliable than the rest.
Mixing the status of “friends” in with your colleagues is a terrible idea. Friendships can come and go as quick as you can sneeze, and mixing your job, something you’re supposed to enjoy, in with it is a recipe for trouble.
Especially in a school setting. While I didn’t see Richard as a friend, I saw him as a sensible and trustworthy colleague.
I, as well as my students, often helped to create the sets for his plays. It was another thing I looked forward to in a new school year, as a project such as set design often distracted me from my own personal problems.
As I was settling into my seat, an unfamiliar pupil entered the room last, opting to sit right next to me.
There were about three empty chairs down the row next to me, but he chose the one right next to me.
I didn’t even look beside me to see who it was, I already felt the unfamiliarity of his presence. I didn’t want to bother with it.
Our principal, the orderly Mr. Schneider began his usual spiel. I had my notepad out, scribbling down notes, when I felt someone nudge my arm.
“Please, don’t touch me.”
Again, I didn’t care to turn and face the man next to me. I simply whispered and moved my arm away. Still, he persisted. This time without touching me.
“Hey. Hey. When’s this meeting ending?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long does he talk for, usually?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really? You look like you’ve been here for a while.”
I was starting to become annoyed by his whispering. Luckily, I didn’t have to keep answering for longer.
“I’m sure you’ve all noticed some new faces in the room.. It’s been a while since we’ve had some new staff, so why don’t we go around the table and introduce ourselves?”
I heard a few sighs and knuckles cracking out of boredom go around the room. I found Schneider to be a fine principal, and even admired his attempts to get us all to bond.
All of the staff were friendly with each other, some more close with each other than others, but today, we were all too tired for any bonding activities.
“Oh, you’re all so dramatic! It’ll be quick and then you’re out of here.”
He said in a teasing tone.
I knew we’d all naturally meld together overtime, Schneider knew it too. He seemed more desperate to make it happen quicker this year.
“Why don’t we start with a new face, Mr. Lindemann?”
Schneider pointed to the man who’d been subtly annoying me.
I finally turned my head, my eyes landing on a rather well-built figure. He sat cross-legged, with his hands interlocked and resting on his lap.
His jaw sharp, alongside a 5 o’clock shadow. His lips were pursed and cracked, skin was clear of any blemishes, apart from some wrinkles here and there.
"Well, I am Till Lindemann. I’ll be teaching poetry, as I did in my previous school. You all look like interesting people. I’m looking forward to it.”
He raised his hands for a second, then letting them fall back in his lap.
I wondered why he was teaching with a figure like a bodybuilder. He looked so serious, yet laid back at the same time.
Maybe he’s not a teacher at all and just some guy playing a joke on us.
I joked to myself.
“Great, happy to have you on board. Hope you’ll find this place friendly! Christian, let’s have you go next. You know the drill.”
I turned my head back around, looking around the room behind everyone so I didn’t have to make direct eye contact.
“I am Christian Lorenz, I teach art and other art related programs like sculpting and ceramics.. Though, I’ll also be teaching English Language Studies this year.”
I adjusted my glasses, pushing them up with a finger.
“How about one fun fact about you, eh?”
Richard playfully nudged me from his side.
“Ah, well.. There isn’t a lot to say about that..”
“Really? Nothing? Seems like you do have a lot to say about lots of things when you talk to me!”
I was trying my best not to, but I could feel my cheeks begin to warm with embarrassment.
“I research about cars every once in a while.. along with human anatomy.”
“There it is!”
Richard seemed happy with my answer and awarded me with a pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.”
I whispered to him, but I doubt he heard.
Schneider continued on down the line without saying much else about what I said.
I sunk into my chair, feeling the shame sink in. It felt like everybody was silently judging me, but I knew they weren’t.
Maybe.
Richard meant no harm, just wanted me to tell more about myself, however, I always felt a wave of embarrassment fall over me when I did. Everybody is a nerd about something, but self consciousness plagued me everywhere I went, even when I wanted to talk about the things that make me happy.
“I’m Richard Kruspe, I teach drama arts and theatre. I don’t think it’ll take you too long to find out more about me.”
He winked.
I only paid attention to my colleagues who I trusted and saw as reliable. Another one being Mr. Landers, the eccentric music teacher who found himself good friends with the theatre junkie.
Their friendship was unavoidable, they were practically inseparable. It was a common known fact within the school.
“Ooh, my turn. I’m Paul Landers and I teach music theory and band. If you need me, I’m always at Richard’s studio.”
Richard smacks Paul playfully.
Eventually it continued and came back around to the staff that taught generally academic courses, of which I only found one to be an acquaintance of mine. He was the second to last to introduce himself.
“I teach history, my name is Oliver Riedel.. Fun fact? Hmm.. Well, that guy over there has been my friend since I could count.”
He pointed to principal Schneider with a wide grin from ear to ear.
“Yeah, so if any of you bother him, you’re fired. No, of course not. I’m kidding.”
He said in return.
But nobody laughed. All the attempts at humour so far hadn’t hit, being met instead with tired scoffs.
“How about you, Mr. Schneider? Give us an intro, you’re making us all do it.”
Richard sat up.
“Ah, well, as you know, I’m the principal, you can just call me Schneider. I’m looking forward to this year, and hoping we have less incidents with troublemakers..”
“Y’know, there is something us teachers are looking forward to, as well. A pay raise.”
Paul crossed his arms.
That was the first time I heard anyone in the room laugh.
“You’re too ambitious, Paul! When’s the last time we had a clean bathroom? And you’re expecting a pay raise?”
Somebody else chimed in, Mrs Lorenz, a mathematician, to be exact.
She was a married woman whose husband happened to have the same last name as me, although we’re not related. She came to the school a year after I did, and naturally, people assumed we were married.
Some still believe it after much correction and clarification, but I don’t wear any rings, so they must be blind.
“Not just you guys, I’m searching for one as well.. Anyway, I believe that about covers it all. You’re all dismissed, see you tomorrow.”