The author's note will explain all. Enjoy!

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The morning broke into the sky, golden rays cutting into the room. The yellow tendrils curled across the floor and climbed the edge of the bed, creeping up on the occupant. But they didn't wake him because he was already awake.

Donovan stared at the ceiling, barely giving notice to the dawn. Though it was a double bed, he slept on only one side out of habit of growing up on a smaller mattress. The sheets were barely disturbed like he had laid down but never slept.

On the night stand, his alarm rang out. Without looking, he turned it off and threw back the blankets. He swung his legs off the bed and rested his hands on his legs, hands clasped.

The apartment was too silent. Even after six years the quiet wasn't natural. The shouts, commands, and crashes of rough housing boys should have filled the apartment. Instead, there was nothing, just a tomb of a place too big for one person.

Standing, he grabbed his phone and moved to the stretch of windows. D.C. was bathed in soft light as the sun rose from the horizon. Finding the right contact, Donovan put the phone to his ear. One ring chased after another until they cut off.

"This better be good," a rough voice said.

Donovan buried one hand into his sweatpants' pocket, staring out on the world that had been his home for so long but held no familiarity.

"I'm quitting," he said.

Clint let out a slow breath. Though they hadn't lived under the same roof in ages, Donovan could still imagine his older brother rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"You're not, but tell me why you are."

The list in Donovan's head was six years long, but there were only two reasons that popped into his head in that moment: the suffocating silence of the apartment and the monotony and immaturity that the day held for him.

He didn't say this though. He said nothing. To admit to that would be a weakness. Even the call was a form of weakness. When Donovan didn't answer, Clint spoke up.

"Link needs you," he said.

And there it was, the tie that couldn't be broken. Despite having reminded himself of this fact more than a thousand times, it was Clint's voice that reaffirmed it. It was like it was getting to easy to ignore the reminder himself.

"He does," Donovan agreed.

"Now more than ever."

Breathing in, Donovan rolled his shoulders and lifted his chin.

"Thank you," he said.

"Of course." There was a pause as Clint yawned. "I'll be in town soon."

The simple comment acted as an anchor.

"You have a specific date?" Donovan asked.

"I'll let you know when I do."

Donovan nodded. "I'll see you then."

"See you then. Oh and call mom, she's worried about you."

The edge of Donovan's lips curled. "She always is."

"Yes, but it seems she has a good reason to now."

"I'll call."

"Good."

After a pause both brothers hung up. Bracing himself for the day, Donovan got ready.

As he stood in front of the mirror, tightening his tie, he tried not to feel like it was a noose. He slipped onto the navy blazer. Even in it's perfectly pressed state, the uniform did its job, dropping his age and portraying a lie. In it he looked like a seventeen-year-old who had no responsibilities and spared no thought for the future. Leaving his reflection behind, he moved to his pristine kitchen, made up of granite countertops, barely used appliances and no hint of personality.

The only testament to decoration was the target sheet on the fridge. The center of the had been ripped to shreds by bullets and on the upper right hand corner were the words 'Suck it' in sharpie, with an illegible signature from his brother James below.

After downing a cup of coffee, Donovan snatched up his bag and crossed over to Link's apartment. Inside Monica was pouring herself coffee while Link sat at the counter. His leg bounced in a frantic rhythm as he stared at his phone. His glasses laid discarded beside him.

"You ready?" Donovan asked.

Not bothering to look up, Link picked up his glasses and retrieved his backpack from the ground. Before he managed to make it to Donovan, his mother scurried around the counter and caught his arm. Only then did Link break his focus in the phone. She cupped his face and kissed his cheek.

"It's going to be okay," she said.

Though Link nodded, he looked anything but reassured. There was a wrinkle in his brow and his lips were pinched together. As the pair left the apartment, Monica called out good luck to them.

In the car, Link began spouting out details that the phone was conveying to him.

"It says," he said, "that Hamilton Prep is one of the most prestigious private high schools in the U.S. catering to America's elite."

Donovan knew this. He also knew the layout of the school, the security measures, the defensiveness of the grounds and the fact that in an exclusive school the chances of not running into Mason Douglas - The First Son and Link's half brother - was nearly impossible.

Link continued to rattle off information like it would cover up the one piece that actually meant anything.

When the Mercedes pulled through the security gate onto the school grounds, Link looked up. The gray stone building was stately, looking of old money and history. Manicured lawns spread out on all sides, encased by a tall, stone fence. Atop the fence were security cameras at distinct intervals, taking in everything.

Donovan swung the car into a parking spot and cut the engine. Beyond the car, doors were slammed and friends called out to. The shouts and laughter held the ring of camaraderie that had been honed over the years. Beside him, Link's leg bounced again. His hair stood up at odd angles and his glasses obstructed his face.

"How are you doing?" Donovan asked.

Link adjusted his glasses, a nervous tell Donovan was accustomed to.

"What is the likelihood that I have any classes with Mason?"

Donovan knew that Link was well aware of the odds and also knew that's not why he asked.

"There is no way to avoid him. I'm sorry."

Link nodded, still surveying the school. Taking the lead, Donovan opened his door and stepped out. Link paused for a second then followed. In silence, they joined the flow of students converging on the school. Standing side by side they appeared as strange bookends, the light skinned, lanky, purposefully rumpled boy and the neat athlete with a dark complexion and handsome face.

As they walked, Donovan's mind was flooded with hundreds of new faces, each having their own unique quality that he picked up on. Beyond this he took in body language, analyzing simple gestures, expressions, and postures to get the underlining meanings they conveyed.

The bell rang as they cut through the crowd, Donovan directing their path. As they headed towards their first period, he felt the gazes of girls that latched onto him. Heads turned as eyes glowed with curiosity and interest. Fighting a wave of weariness, he dropped his customary blank mask into place.

A girl stumbled and bumped into him. Reflexively, he caught and righted her. Before she could offer a smile and thank you, they were pushing on. Link glanced at him, his gaze flicking back to the girl.

"Keep moving," Donovan said, his voice quiet.

"Are we playing this as usual?"

Donovan nodded once. With a sigh, Link ran a hand though his hair, managing to make it look more messy than before. They stepped into a classroom filled with tall tables and stools. It was average high school setup that looked imprisoning to Donovan. Most spots were already taken. Splitting ways, Link took an open seat by a girl who was frowning at the teacher. Donovan settled onto a stool two tables back with a blonde haired girl.

By the time he had unhooked his bag from his shoulder, Link was in conversation with his table companion. She waved her hand towards the teacher and Link frowned, glancing over. Donovan followed his line of sight, registering the hint of a smirk in the teacher's expression. Before he could try to decipher the meaning, the girl beside him spoke.

"Hi!"

When Donovan looked over, the girl's smile brightened as she was given a full view of his looks and body. Turning away, Donovan took in a deep breath, curbing the annoyance that was too early to have to deal with. From the eagerness and self confidence of the girl, Donovan calculated three more attempts before his lack of response killed her advances.

"Are you new here?" she asked.

Donovan didn't answer, instead took out a notebook. The second bell rang and the teacher smiled, triumphant.

"All right class let's get settled," he said.

The room slowly quieted as students tucked away phones and swiveled to the front. Donovan watched, noting who was hungover and who was still half asleep.

"I have a surprise for you. Pop quiz!"

Groans echoed through the classroom as students slumped and others laid their heads on the table, resigned. When Donovan's gaze traveled to the girl beside Link, he noticed her flash Link a knowing smirk. It struck him that she had known that the pop quiz was coming.

The door to the classroom opened a blonde-haired guy sauntered in, followed by a muscular man in a black suit. Without having already known who the boy was, the Secret Service agent would have been a dead giveaway.

"Mr. Douglas, so pleased you could join us," the teacher said.

All eyes were on the newcomers while Donovan's eyes were on Link. From the tension in his shoulders, the curl of his fingers and the downward tilt of his head, he knew the emotions Link was battling.

The girl spoke, startling Link. After the few words they exchanged, Link's posture relaxed. Donovan leaned forward, wondering who this girl was that could instantly bring comfort to Link. Though wary, a part of him was grateful.

*********

As the bell rang, students rose, the volume of voices rising with them. The blonde besides Donovan grabbed another piece of courage and twisted towards him. Donovan didn't meet her gaze, instead packing up his bag.

"What do you have next?" she asked, her voice still cheery, though at this point it held a tinge of doubt.

Replying with a single, blank look, Donovan focused back on his bag. When he raised his head again, the girl had gone. He glanced at Link's spot and found it empty. Smothering the knee-jerk reaction to go racing out of the classroom, he lifted the strap over his head and headed out the door. Beyond the doorway, Link stood waiting. Donovan slid his hands into his pockets.

"You ready to go? A.P. history is in the North Wing," he said.

"First," Link said, waving his hands to the girl who had been his table companion, "I'd like you to meet Carter."

Donovan looked at her. She leaned against the lockers, her hands shoved into her pockets. As his gaze skimmed over her, he memorized her face and read her body language. Though her posture and expression of complete disregard of the school was the equivalent of her giving the middle finger to anyone who looked at her, there was something beyond that. There was an intensity in her gaze that said nothing slipped her notice.

She was attractive with golden brown skin, a slender face, cool blue eyes and bow lips. But it was the fact that she did nothing to enhance her looks that snagged Donovan's attention. In fact, she took lengths to counter her features, choosing to wear a wrinkled blazer and her hair in a rough ponytail.

"Carter this is my friend, Donovan Keller," Link said.

As she looked between them, her eyes narrowing, Donovan could see a keen intelligence his first study had not revealed.

"You two are friends?" she asked, not bothering to mask her skepticism.

On cue, Link popped out their rehearsed answer. "We live in the same building. He keeps people from beating me up."

"In turn, he helps me with homework," Donovan said.

It was a lie they had told countless times, and one that everyone had never questioned. Until now. Carter's smirk was drenched in disbelief.

"Yes," she said, mockingly, "because naturally anyone who is freely taking advanced chemistry needs help with homework."

Link's cheeks betrayed him, while Donovan portrayed nothing, though his mind was reconfiguring who this girl was. For the first time in years, standing before him was someone who glimpsed the truth within a lie. Carter frowned, and Donovan could see a tumble of questions darting through her mind.

"Keller, like the senator?" she asked.

Donovan knew what she was implying. "Yes, like the Senator."

Nodding once, Carter pushed herself off the lockers and walked away. Link looked at Donovan and they both fell into step beside her. Though she showed no sign of pleasure at their company, she neither gave any hint of wanting them gone.

"So what brings you to Hamilton Prep?" she asked.

Her gaze seemed to never settle, constantly taking in data. The attentiveness of it all contradicted her bored expression.

"We used to go to Jefferson Private high school but something happened," Link said. "The school had to close down for repairs so we got sent here."

The information made Carter's attention narrow in on Link.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The building wasn't structurally sound," Donovan said, repeating the statement had been sent in the announcement.

Whether this was true was something Donovan planned on verifying. Whether coincidence or not, they were placed in the same school as Link's half brother.

Carter peered around Link at Donovan, staring at him like he was a puzzle she couldn't quite solve. It was different from the looks other girls had given him, but still one he got often enough. But it was the first time that he wondered if someone would get close to succeeding. It was not something he could allow to happen.

"Wasn't structurally sound?" she asked.

Her tone was amused and Donovan knew he would have to censor his words around her.

"I think something with mold in the basement," Link said.

Carter's gaze drifted away, the topic losing her interest. "Fascinating."

She directed them through the chaos of the school, up clogged staircases and down mobbed hallways. Outside the history classroom, she stopped and faced the tide of students, searching. Link paused, confused, while Donovan scanned the passing faces trying to see what she saw.

"Aren't you going in?" Link asked.

Carter rested against a set of lockers, attention still roaming over her peers. A smile creased her lips. The look softened her features, taking away the hard, guarded edge.

"Not yet," she said. "I'm going to watch the fight. Jonathan and Macy are going to break up. Wait for it."

Link took a step closer, frowning. "Who?"

In answer, Carter pointed to a couple making their ways toward the trio. With the couple specified, Donovan saw it. Though together there was too much distance between the couple for it not to be intentional. The girl's shoulders were tense, lips pursed, while the boy had his body angled away from her. When his gaze lingered on a passing girl, the one beside him spun on him.

"I knew it! You're cheating on me! How could you!" Macy screamed.

From there the fight dissolved into tears, hysterics, pleas and angry shouts before two teachers broke the couple apart. Carter chuckled as Macy was escorted to the office, her makeup smeared down her face.

"How did you know?" Link asked.

Carter shrugged. The action was natural on her as if it were a common response.

"Easy," she said. "I noticed her stiff shoulders, tight lips. The distance between them. His scowl and wandering gaze." She rocked on the balls of her feet, lifting herself from the lockers. "Besides, it's Monday and that's what they always do."

"Seriously?" Link asked.

"Yeah, I figure it's their way of keeping the romance alive. Cause really, after the first initial attraction what do they have in common? Other than the fact that neither of them can send a message without an abbreviation or an emoji."

Link laughed. It was a sound Donovan hadn't been sure he would be able to make when confronted with so much of his past. Carter smiled, pleased with the reception, as Donovan studied her. Though his face remained uncaring, his thoughts whirred with each new piece of information figuring out what she must know and what she could possible guess from Link, his looks, and their connection.

As they walked into their classroom, the young teacher in his mid-thirties, with pale skin and brooding dark brown eyes, glanced up at them. He was about to lower his gaze, when he noticed Link and Donovan and his head snapped back up. Donovan caught the touch of surprise, but in a breath it was gone. Still, it left a strange mark in Donovan's mind.

"Morning, Mr. Philips," Carter said.

The man offered up a short smile.

"Hello, Carter. New students I see." He waved a dismissive hand. "Find a seat anywhere," he said.

The bell rang as they found seats. Link ended up by Carter, while Donovan took the spot right behind. Through out the class, Donovan barely listened, the lesson was nothing new. Instead, he studied Mr. Philips cataloguing the edge in his voice when speaking of politics as if it left a bad taste in his mouth and the slight downward turn of his lips.

By the time they were released for their class, Donovan had formed a working theory of the man and his history with politicians. Along with that was a list of people he would be looking into, Mr. Philips towards the top.

Students stood, grabbed backpacks and clustered together as they exited. Donovan followed Link and Carter out. Beyond the door, they stopped and Link curled his hands around his straps.

"What do you have next?" he asked.

Carter jabbed a thumb behind her. "A.P. Calculus with Harris."

"We have A.P. english with Ross," Link said.

She gave a single nod as if this bit of information was worth nothing more than that.

"We'll see you around," Link said, encouragingly.

His smile was quick and easy, his level of familiarity already telling Donovan volumes of how comfortable Link felt around this girl.

Carter took a step back and tossed her hands up, nothing in her face giving any indication of whether she liked this comment or not.

"That's entirely up to you," she said.

Spinning on her heel, she walked away. Donovan stared after her, trying to figure out where the disregard for friends steamed from. Link nudged his arm.

"What do you think of her?" he asked.

There was a note of hope in his voice. Donovan crossed his arms, faced with a decision. Stay close, giving Link a friend while risking the chance to have the truth of his parentage discovered? Or keep their distance and run the same risk but without the emotional ties that could sway someone like her to keep the truth to herself?

"If anyone was to figure your secret out, it would be her," he said. "We're going to stay close."

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Put your hands up!

(Up in the club, just broke up, trying to do my own little thing. 🤦🏽‍♀️Sorry it got stuck in my head)

Okay, so this is probably different from the first