Burvington Preparatory Academy of Excellence.
Home of the "Burlie" Boys.
The richest , said to be strongest and some of the most genius minds in all of Great Britain. Home to the 4 most powerful boys (and then some) . They do, say and be who the...
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November 9th
WILLIAM COLLINS WAS A NORMAL BOY, WITH NORMAL INTERESTS AND THAT IS WHAT HE PPREFERRED TO BE.
NORMAL.
NORMALTITY WAS THE EASIEST WAY OF LIFE.
UNFORTUNATELY, THE THINGS WITHIN HIS LIFE AND ENVIRONMENT, WERE PROVING TO BE RATHER UNCONDUCIVE TO SUCH A DREAM.
For one, he was the only child to a billionaire, coal and mining tycoon and only son to a world renowned, highly- sought after photographer and artist.
But other than that, he really was just like any other boy.
Loved bangers and mash, beans on toast for breakfast or lunch. A sponge cake fanatic amongst other plain delicacies. Madeira, lemon- flavoured anything AND sausages.
Normal,
normal,
NORMAL.
And as for his love life?
Well,
Es un proceso.
Right?
Right?
The cold plunge of the early November morn did nothing to cool his heated figure. The rugby ball lay snug within his arms as he ran his 50th lap across the rugby pitch.
The sun had still been sleeping while he ran. For it had only been around half four in the morning.
This was the second time in a row where sleep evaded him. His sanity seemed to have eloped with his reason and logic to the farthest recesses of his brain.
And thought, took residence instead.
Thought, that nebulous thing with potential to unravel even the most disciplined minds into oblivion.
