William's brilliance had been all along a quiet, private thing, he was carrying as an amulet or talisman-an instinct for learning that seemed no more remarkable than breathing. Indeed, his talent had long been recognized by his teachers; they saw it in the way he quickly unraveled complex problems, and his unique solutions to equations and riddles that others could barely grasp. He was talented given an undeniable something that one simply could not look away from and one day, that something was acknowledged by other people beyond his circle of teachers. He was granted a highly coveted scholarship to the best school in the nation, Light Academy, the honor thrilling yet intimidating in equal measure.
He was an oddity among his classmates upon arrival at the elite school. Rumors preceded him; a quiet murmur followed him down the halls while other students stared in wonder and caution at the pale boy, knowing full well he earned his place rather than buying it with money or privilege. He kept to himself at first, still growing accustomed to the lavishly endowed facilities and classrooms so grandiose that they felt worlds away from the orphanage and quiet life he once knew.
He was proving to be a great deal more academically successful here. The mind that had stirred languidly in those less-than-challenging arenas now sparked to life surrounded by this endless landscape of discovery and challenge. These subjects that were once merely basic now evolved into exhilarating labyrinths in which he plunged, making great strides and earning admiration from teachers and fellow students alike. He read voraciously from textbooks, stayed up late at the library, and grasped advanced ideas with apparent ease that left his classmates variously amazed and puzzled. And many a time, teachers would turn around and ask him to think aloud, as if in desperation to know the innermost movements of his mind, and though he spoke hesitantly, he could easily notice the glitter in their admiring eyes.
Maths and science were his fertile fields, where his intuition was without parallel. Solutions followed in rapid leaps of reasoning beyond what anybody else could follow, as though the numbers and theories danced before his mind as some sort of secret language. He envisioned patterns that most others overlooked and interwove the concepts that were so easily abstract into tangible something real. Surprisingly, even to himself, creativity with literature and history made his voice ring out loud in essays and discussions as he plumbed themes and ideas to a depth beyond his years.
Despite brilliance in everything, he still felt like an outsider. Others came from wealthy and influential backgrounds, speaking about places and people he had only read about. They respect his intellect, though they don't quite understand it. Sometimes he detected a foreign world in the quiet reserve that was himself. At times, though, he did indeed dwell upon this divide-a painful reminder of the life he left behind, full of strife and loneliness. But he never let this deter him; instead, it drove him forward, fueling a resolve that went beyond academics.
As time went on, some students approached him, drawn by his quiet intensity, and his calm presence. They would invite him to go along to study groups or ask for his help on hard assignments, nothing more. He helped them with complex problems, often finishing their sessions with a faint, rare smile when they succeeded. Little by little, they learned to appreciate, if not his intellect, at least then the kind soul that he carried-depth carried from a life not so ordinary.
The boy who stood at the pinnacle of the best school in the nation became an object of curiosity and respect, quietly a legend down the hallways of a place that knew nothing but privilege and tradition. And though he would never lose his shy reservedness, these once-somewhere-else dreams of belonging and purpose now felt closer; each day seemed to bring some vision of a future that he was beginning, slowly, to think could be his.
Isolated at the nation's best school among his peers, whose wealth seemed to define them all, viewed him as an outsider and a threat, a boy received a scholarship for his quiet intensity and striking green eyes that haunted. They called him a "charity case" behind his back, made pointed remarks about his background, and excluded him from group projects and social events. Their disdain was razored, and they made him feel unwelcome in subtly cruel ways: bumping him in the halls, hiding his books, or muttering insults just loud enough for him to hear.
Some girls, however, found his mystery and intelligence intriguing and would seek his help with studies or quietly watch him from across the room. This only seemed to fuel the fire, adding another layer to the boys' bullying, with boldness that grew by the day, morphing the silent cruelty into more brazen antagonism. He kept his head down, keenly eyeing his work amidst quiet torment. Never once did he allow their scorn to break him. But each day in that school's gilded halls made him feel increasingly isolated, and quiet, with loneliness inside and the bruises of rejection in a place that never allowed him to forget how different he was.
Life wasn't too bad he was liked by the ladies for his looks, fake looks, he had come to realize his white hair and red eyes caused the people around him a lot of uneasiness. He dyed his hair black and bought some brown contact lenses assuming a more natural look but his pale skin couldn't be changed and for some reason the ladies seemed to be enchanted either way be it black-haired and brown-eyed or white-haired and red-eyed.
The male populous though appeared to always dislike him no matter what. He had gotten used to being looked down upon by them and waited for them to thrash him after all they couldn't hurt him no matter what they tried.