[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/avdWJv4.png[/img][/center][hr][hr]
[indent][indent]Stephen King had an accident and he had a quote about that accident on the internet. That quote resonated with Caelum deeply as he sat on his impregnated trunk reading it on his phone. 

[center][code]My accident really taught me just one thing: the only way to go on is to go on. To say ‘I can do this’ even when you know you can’t.[/code][/center]

[color=gray]“So true,”[/color] he murmured, grazing the idea of setting aside his misfortune and moving on to his first year of high school. His uncle strode to the door, where his shoes were waiting. He slid on the worn white sneakers and spared Caelum a smile. 

[b]“You… Umm, you ready kiddo?”[/b]

Caelum found the ‘POWER OFF’ button on his phone and touched it, the screen smoothly turned black. [color=gray]“As ready as I’ll ever be uncle. Mom,”[/color] he paused, his Japanese flickering into English. [color=gray]“I just feel like I’m trying to forget, Ma. It sucks monkey balls.”[/color] 

Jasper continued in his fluent Japanese; he took the language masterfully. [b]“Forgetting is just the surface of your feelings kiddo. We’ll never forget her.”[/b] He stood to his feet, let Caelum out, and started locking up. [b]“It feels that way now but believe me, its just because you’re young.”[/b]

Caelum yanked the handle of his trunk out and wheeled it to the trunk of Jasper’s small car. [color=gray]“Yeah,”[/color] he said in Japanese. [color=gray]“I believe you uncle…”[/color] 

[center]~* ~* ~*[/center]

Jasper watched him steadily with that same set burning dark eyes. Caelum had grown use to those orbs, so use to them that he strode up towards the dorm unperturbed. He reached the doors and gave his uncle a reassuring smile and wave, hoping to send him off with some form of confidence. 

When Jasper’s tall form fell into his car, the engine thrummed, and the man’s hand (fleeting as a shadow) waved in return: Caelum slid inside. 

Inside (out of view), he sighed deeply. He dug into his jeans and pulled out the crumpled, damped note he had jotted down. In the thick blue of a highlighter was written “VELVET ROOM?” He had looked it up when he awoke that morning and when concerns of last-minute packing had arisen he quickly wrote it down hoping to remember it later. 

For some reason the note or rather the words had an odd pull to them. It took some effort for him to stuff the note back in his pocket. The rolling of his trunk following him down the hall. He was early he observed, seeing the emptiness occupied by stragglers or early-risers. 

[color=gray]“I should find the receptionist."[/color] He aptly begun to wander off.[/indent][/indent]