Symphony of Sound.

It's gray and bleak on the day life returns to The Shakespeare School of The Arts. It's lukewarm, air filled with anticipation and dread, mingling and mixing together.

For the new students, there's excitement, thrill and delight, and for the older, there's resentment, disappointment and just sheer irritation.

The train chugs to a halt before wrought iron gates with the words 'Shakespeare School' moulded intricately into the design. An aged, wooden plaque with the school motto (some old, outdated, badly translated Latin rubbish) swings aimlessly in the mid-autumn breeze.

It's somewhat unseasonably cold for Maine in early September -not quite cold enough for snow, yet enough for a breeze with a fierce bite.

The students are all wrapped up in their compulsory winter uniform, blazers over dark gray sweaters and green scarves, twisted around necks. Some carry berets; others wear them as feeble protection from the elements.

The grades start to band together; juniors and seniors pushing past younger students with bags twice their size because they crave the warmth of their dorm rooms and their common room log fires.

There are cheerful reunions -with students from all over the country, for some it has been two long months away from their friends.

The first year students are nervous, all huddled together while a few members of staff try to herd them through the gates.

For Zack Merrick, a violinist in the eleventh grade, it's been a long summer. He spent most of it with his aunt and uncle, and his (highly irritating) cousins, Andy and Emily.

He pauses by the gate, dodging the ninth graders carefully as he scans the crowd for his friends.

He's staring absently off into the bland sky, twisting his blonde waves around his finger when someone jumps at him, laughing. Zack falls backwards into the wall, batting at whoever it is.

He opens his hazel eyes to be met with his best friend, Rian, and the smug grin on the older boy's face.

"God, you're such a dork, Zack."

Zack pouts at him, playfully hitting him in the arm.

"You're a dick. You should be thankful that didn't do any damage to my violin." Zack says haughtily, laughing halfway through and ruining the drama.

"Or what?" Rian smirks, linking his arm with Zack's and tugging his contrabassoon bag further up on his shoulder.

"You'd have been buying a new one," Zack replies, not missing a beat as they begin to walk towards the main school building.

Zack's really missed Rian's company over summer; he only saw the older boy once, and that was when Rian and his family came on a road trip out to Sacramento.

They battle the winds all the way to the junior block; a teetering old stone building with mossy rocks and arched windows. It still creeps them both out, even after all these years.

They look like they've been dragged through hurricane season kicking and screaming; Rian's short curls are everywhere, falling into his brown eyes and Zack needn't have bothered so much as brushing his hair this morning.

"Race you to the common room!" Rian yells, taking off down the corridor laughing, Zack close behind.

They go careering through the door at the same time, panting and giggling. They draw an odd look from Nick, an acquaintance and junior year's resident ginger. He's sitting with Greta, his on-again-off-again girlfriend, who looks thoroughly unimpressed.

Most importantly, however, are the two grinning idiots watching them from the other side of the room who quickly bound over.

"Zack! Rian!" They squeak, hugging them both tight.

They pull back and the taller of the two, Jack, straightens his glasses warily and smiles wide.

"I missed you dudes," He says, smile growing even wider.

"Missed you too, Jay." Rian says with a smile, and Alex, the sandy haired boy who had been with Jack at the start, turns to him and pouts.

"You never told me that you missed me." He says, folding his arms and pretending to sulk.

"Of course I missed you 'Lex, you loser." Jack laughs, elbowing him playfully.

Alex's pout drops and he hugs Jack tight.

"Come on, we'll help you unpack."

And that's kind of how everyone ends up gathered in Zack's dorm, sitting on the floor on duvets they pulled from their own rooms surreptitiously.

"Why do you all have to live so far away from me?" Jack says with a petulant sigh as Zack and Rian start talking about their two days together in Sacramento.

"Not our fault you live in Baltimore," Alex retorts, poking the younger boy in the side, "nor is it our fault that you have the weirdest accent known to man."

"You Westerners suck." Jack says, pouting more, which just makes the other boys laugh.

It's bizarre, how they've become such good friends, despite living in different states entirely. Zack lives in California, while Rian's in Nevada and Alex is in Oregon, and Jack is way across the country in Maryland. It's odd, but it works.

Zack finds himself rummaging through his bags, trying to draw some order to his room despite the general disarray that he left at the end of last year.

He digs out his beret, his straighteners, several thick books of sheet music, spare violin strings and half of his wardrobe before he finds what he wants.

He sets the three picture frames down on his nightstand, placing them carefully before smiling softly. Rian watches him, but doesn't say anything. He does this every year.

The photographs within the frames are of intense importance to Zack. There's one of him and his father from when he was twelve years old, with his acceptance letter to Shakespeare. Then there's another, of the whole family, from his aunt to his grandparents. The final one holds the most valuable image, to Zack, at least. It's of him and his mother.

He's barely a few hours old, bundled up in a pale duck egg blue blanket his Aunt Carolyn had bought for him. His mother smiles down at him, with the very same eyes he looks at the photograph with. It upsets Zack, more than anyone understands, really, to realize that his mother died less than twenty four hours after the photograph was taken.

Zack still blames himself, despite being told he shouldn't. He wasn't even a day old; it's not like he could've changed anything.

He zones back into the conversation right as Jack and Alex launch into another rousing argument about whether the East coast or the West coast is cooler, and Zack rolls his eyes. Some things never change.

He feels the mattress dip and turns to see Rian sitting beside him.

"You're over thinking things again, stop it." Rian says, giving him a soft jab in the side. Zack frowns, stares down at his duvet and shakes his head.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. I know that expression. That, and you always do this on the first day back."

"I do not." Zack replies indignantly.

"Uh, yeah, you do."

Zack bites his lip gently, glares at the older boy again and sighs.

"Fine. You win. I do this every year."

"I told you. Now stop it, you're worrying me."

"I can't help it, Ri, you know that. I just wish... I wish she could've seen what I've become, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Rian replies, resting his hand on the small of Zack's back. "Believe me, she's watching you from above. I know it. And I'll bet she's so proud of you."

Zack smiles then, resting against Rian's shoulder, quite content.

Jack and Alex look up at them from the floor, raising their eyebrows and smirking sideways.

“What?” Zack asks, frowning at the both of them, causing them to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Nothing, you’re just flirting so much it’s almost embarrassing to watch,” Alex laughs, wiping at his eyes where tears are starting to fall from laughing so hard.

“We are not flirting.” Zack retorts, folding his arms and sitting up, moving his head from Rian’s shoulder to look at them properly.

“Yeah, right.” Jack laughs, which only makes Rian join in glaring at him.

The loudspeaker installed in all of the rooms crackles into life, sputtering as the school’s principal, Dr. Walker, begins to speak.

“All students should begin to move towards the appropriate hall for an introductory assembly –juniors and seniors to the auditorium, sophomores and freshmen to the theatre hall. Be there by one thirty, arranged in grades in full formal uniform, and yes –that includes berets.”

The four of them groan, disappearing off into their own dorms with their duvets and returning a few minutes later, tugging their blazers onto their shoulders over their thick woollen sweaters. Zack sighs at his reflection in the mirror, pulling his beret on over his hair and trying to get it to sit right over his ears.

“You look fine, stop it.” Jack says, elbowing the older boy out of the way and looking at his reflection, playing with his beret and his bangs, trying to get them to look okay around his glasses.

“I hate these things,” He comments, trying to glare at them but failing miserably.

“Hey, they offered you contact lenses, you just said no. Because you’re a stubborn idiot.” Alex comments, rolling his eyes at the younger boy.

“I am not.” Jack retaliates indignantly. He grabs Alex by the arm, drags him out of the room, leaving Zack and Rian to trail after them and wait as Zack fumbles around with his key as he locks his door.

They make their way to the auditorium together, collecting a few more people as they go –Dan, David and Gavin from their grade, and Andrew, Juliet and Martin from senior year.

They assemble outside of the auditorium doors, huddled together to fight back against the weather, reuniting with those they haven’t seen over all of summer, talking quietly about what’s been going on with them and their families, up until the doors creak open and they’re ushered inside.