Chapter Text
Fortunately, biking is very good for aerobic exercise.
Unfortunately, it's a lot slower than a car.
Dr. Ryland Grace is seen ignoring all laws of traffic on his long trek to work. His typical morning doesn't involve running red lights, but he had woken up an hour past his alarm and, therefore, was late. Incredibly late. Possibly-could-get-him-fired late. He knows he should be setting a better example for his students, but would they really care about having a first period study hall? Honestly, they might thank him.
He arrives at 9:27, furiously apologizing as he checks into the office and runs to his classroom. Luckily, he's got a few minutes left of his prep period. Alright, nice. Enough time to get ready for the horror known as period three.
Setting up chairs, checking equipment, and cleaning desks has become muscle memory at this point. Doing this five days a week for years wasn't difficult per-say, but it was definitely time consuming. Before Grace knew it, his students were taking their seats.
"Alright guys, welcome in. All we're doing today is finishing up that worksheet from yester- uh, two days ago."
"Mr. Grace?"
"What's up?"
"Do you know the new teacher's name?"
"Uhhh."
The man thinks to himself for a moment. New teacher? Grover Cleveland Middle hasn't hired a new teacher in years. Budget issues, or ...something.
"No clue, Olivia. Sorry."
Another student mumbles something in her ear before turning to Grace.
"He teaches robotics now that Mr. McCarthy quit. He looks kind of crazy."
"Wait, huh? When did Mr. McCarthy quit?"
"Since his wife left him."
"Oh, oh—okay let's not talk about this, guys."
"You asked, Mr. Grace."
The teacher holds up the 'quiet fox' before turning away and removing himself from the conversation. On his desk lay a neat pile of ungraded tests that he should definitely stop procrastinating about grading. Sighing, he picks up his trusty red pen and gets to it, but that doesn't stop him from listening in on the students' gossip.
"How much hair spray do you think that guy uses?"
"Like at least a can a day."
"I think it's sick."
"His hair? Of course you would think that, miss 'drama club president'."
Grace rolls his eyes at the banter. He definitely didn't miss being in school.
"Hey, enough of that. I know you're joking, but no more insulting your classmates."
"What about you? Have you met him, Mr. Grace?"
"Met who?"
"The new robotics teacher."
"You're still going on about him, huh?"
"Kevin says he's high or something."
"What the hell, man."
"Kevin, don't swear in class."
"Hell isn't a swear word."
After what feels like an eternity of gossip (and occasionally valuable information) being shared between third, fourth, and fifth period, Grace finally gets a chance to eat his lunch. He would typically spend his break in his or Miss Ilyukhina's classroom, but his legs were still sore from that bike ride, and the cushioned chairs in the teachers' lounge were singing to him.
Walking in, he noticed two things. Firstly, there was a carton of milk abandoned in the middle of the counter. Secondly, his favorite chair was taken. Obviously, Grace's first instinct was to retain peace on planet Earth and return the milk to the fridge, but he couldn't stop staring at the man in his seat.
Has he seen him before? Why doesn't this guy look familiar in the slightest? He dons a thick dark green sweater covered by a half-buttoned tan jacket. The sleeves are rolled up to the man's elbows, exposing the many odd tattoos on his forearms. A black beanie covers his ears and hair, but it doesn't hide the bangs from sprouting out the front and curling wildly in any and every direction possible.
"You- uh, you using this?"
Grace points to the now-room-temperature milk carton. The other man looks up from the book he appears to have been reading.
"No."
"...Right. This goes in the fridge when you're done with it."
"Oh! Apology."
The strange man stands up, but the carton has already been put away. Both sit down, Grace with his lunch in hand. So, it's clear that this guy isn't from around here. His speech patterns and ..fashion choices (?) give it away immediately. This must be the new teacher his students were gossiping about because good god how much hairspray does one man need? It's as if the thick strands of black and gray were emitting radio signals to the mother-ship of-
"Are you another teacher here?"
The question catches Grace off guard since ..he assumed the other man wasn't much for conversation. Perfect. Not only is he weird but he's talking to him. You know what? Maybe he's not as weird as the kids say. Maybe they're just exaggerating.
"Uh, yeah! I teach science for 6th and 8th grade. What about you?"
"Amaze, amaze. I teach in technology wing. Robotics."
"You new?"
"Yes. Just traveled here few days ago. Applied for job. Got job."
"Cool."
Silence stretches out for a few seconds. It's getting kind of awkward. Grace opens the lid of his salad and starts eating.
"Eugh."
"Eugh, what?"
"You eat here?"
"...Yes? That's kind of what the lounge is for."
"Oh, okay."
"Um.."
Grace looks at the clock on the wall. Unsure if the other teacher will notice it's broken, he uses the time as an excuse.
"Ohh... darn. I need to get back to my classroom. I'll see you around, yeah? Mr....-"
"Oh! Rockifeld. You may call me Rocky!"
The man makes a strange sign. His exposed forearms connect, parallel to each other. His hands are balled into fists facing inwards. Grace's eyes fall to the man's tattoos on his arms—a network of intricate lines and circles, creating some kind of symbol when placed next to one another. The strange man smiles proudly.
"Rocky... yeah. Well, you can call me Grace."
"Grace! Lovely."
"Thanks.."
Luckily, Rocky doesn't seem to notice the other man slowly slinking towards the door. Before he can say anything else, Grace's hand is on the knob.
"I'll see you around, I guess. Bye bye!"
And with that, the door is closed. Grace has successfully escaped the interaction. God, his kids were right. That guy is weird. Oh, well. At least he still has a salad to enjoy in the peace and quiet of his empty classroom.
Nevermind.
"Hey, hey. What are you guys doing in here without a teacher?"
The three students turn around, seemingly uncaring that they've just been caught.
"It was unlocked, I don't know."
"We didn't want to eat in the loud-ass cafeteria."
"Yeah, that."
Grace would usually correct the swear, but he's on break. He sighs and sits at his desk to continue eating his salad. However, he can't help but overhear the students' gossip.
"Anyways, to answer Claire's question, I think he reminds me of the, uhhhh, Facestealer. Yeah."
"The monster from Apparition Camp?"
"No, the one in your mom's basement. Yes, the monster from Apparition Camp."
Now Grace is curious.
"Wait, what's that?"
"The Facestealer or Apparition Camp?"
"Both."
"Apparition Camp is a video game. The Facestealer is a monster in it."
"It, like, mimics what the player looks like and pretends to be them to get close and kill their teammates."
"Right.. and who are we talking about?"
"Mr. Sir. Roberto Rockifeld."
Ah. The new guy who's been freaking out the entire school lately. Grace knows he shouldn't involve himself in pointless gossip, especially gossip of other teachers.
"I just talked to him, actually."
The kids change their attention to their favorite teacher.
"Really?! No way."
"What's he like? Have you seen his hair?"
"First of all, I wanna know what about him compares to a face-stealing monster. I'm intrigued."
"I mean he's clearly not human."
"...Right."
"I'm serious! Look at his hair."
"You guys seem really interested in this guy's hair."
"To be fair, it's kind of the only information we know of him."
Grace realizes that he's probably the only person in the room who has actually seen this guy. That probably shouldn't give him the ego boost it does.
"I found him in the teachers' lounge. His hair's pretty impressive, but he also has some cool tattoos."
"Tattoos?? What kind of tattoos?"
"Uh. Some kind of design that I don't understand."
"What was it like talking to him?"
"..As a teacher, I shouldn't be spreading rumors."
"That means he thinks he's weird."
"I didn't say that!"
"You thought it."
"Ugh."
Tests finally graded, Mr. Grace has nothing left to stress over. He sets the papers neatly in the drawer of his desk, and grabs the cleaning supplies. He starts with wiping down the desks, before moving to the windows. He sighs, observing the children walking, chatting, free from the day's work. He should probably stop pouting and get back to cleaning.
Grace hears a knock at the door, before it's slowly opened. The strange man from earlier peers inside.
"Hi, Grace! I asked around for your room number. Took a while to find."
"Oh, hey! Did you need something?"
"Mm."
Rocky closes the door behind him, before looking around and shrugging. Grace continues wiping down the windows.
"Wanted to thank you for being kind to me."
"Me?"
"Yes. Was kind. Talked to me in the lounge, remember?"
"Yeah, I.. do remember. Has no one else been kind to you today?"
The man looks nervous as he picks at his fingers.
"Not really. I heard students talking about me. Heard other teachers too."
"Oh. I'm... sorry to hear that."
"Is okay."
Grace realizes he's been cleaning the same window for ten minutes. He sighs and backs away, admiring his work. He feels Rocky walk up behind him and tries desperately to not turn around.
"So, uh. Where are you from?"
"Earth."
"Huh. Haven't met one of you guys before."
Rocky gasps and looks around in surprise (and maybe hesitance?).
"Really? You never met someone from Earth before? Amaze!"
"Wha- huh? No, no. I'm being sarcastic. I'm making a joke."
"Oh. Don't understand."
"It's, uh. Nevermind."
Grace watches the other man tilt his head down, seemingly embarrassed. This guy really has no friends, huh. He does feel kind of bad for him, especially since he's clearly not from around here. Poor guy is getting bullied just for existing.
Grace knows what it feels like to be bullied. God, it was the main reason he wanted to drop out of high school and give up his dreams of getting a PHD and finally becoming relevant in the world. Surely it wouldn't hurt to show this guy the ropes? What harm could it do? He sighs.
"Look, Rocky.."
"Hm?"
"I'll be your friend, okay? My room's open anytime to you."
"Really? Thank you, Grace. Much appreciate. We will be great friends!"
"Yeah, bud. Great friends."
The light finally returns to Rocky's eyes, which makes the other man smile. He feels proud of himself.
"Ah! Must go clean up my classroom as well. I will talk to you tomorrow, yes?"
"Sure thing, Rocky. See ya."
And with that, the strange man exits the room, leaving Grace with a feeling of ..anticipation? It's going to be a crazy school year with this guy around.
He continues onto the next window, wiping off any and all stains.