Part 7 - School Trip

 I think it was during a Maths lesson in our second week at the Internet School that James got the first call. He'd decided after that first day to try to get in contact with the police. I think it's safe to say, in fact, that we four all thought it was the police calling him. He'd been going through some differential equations and had seemed to be nodding off as he delivered his lesson. He's never as interested in Maths as he is in Drama or History, for example, but he normally still manages to entertain us with body language and facial expressions.
 "So, you, um, multiply the coefficient by... " he had yawned, " ... the power. Then take one off the power."
 He had blinked rapidly and tried to rouse himself. Then the jangling sound of his 'Don't Stop Me Now' ringtone had begun to emanate from his pocket and he'd excused himself from the room. We could hear him muttering something into the phone very quickly and very quietly and all four of us tensed visibly.
 "Is he okay?" Tom asked me.
 "I don't know," I replied distractedly, "I was up early this morning and he was just pacing around the living room yelling about cannons."
 "Cannons or canon?" Tom frowned.
 "I would have thought canon but he's become a little unpredictable recently and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he was debating the failings of pre-Dreadnought war ships with himself," I murmured.
 James re-entered the room and ushered in one of the members of One Direction - we had music next - urging them to take the maths lesson. He signalled for the four of us to come with him. By now the class was used to this and we'd come up with the more comprehensive cover story that we were involved in a fanfiction project. I shrugged at Tom and followed Annisa, Eliphia and Hanien out of the class.
 This time James took us back to our common room and sat us down in the kitchen.
 "I did something stupid," he began, "I made a rash decision and I regret it now but it can't be undone. I got on Facebook, got accepted into my own fan group and sent Paul a private message. I told him I couldn't do as he asked but that I was not giving up. I ... arranged to meet him. That's who the call was from. He was confirming the time and place."
 "Where are you going to meet him?" Hanien asked.
 "Cream 'O' Galloway Park," James replied, "It's public enough that he can't harm me but spread out enough that we can talk without people overhearing us. Do you know it, Joanne?"
 "Yeah," I replied, "It's my favourite play-park all time! What do you need us for, then?"
 "Well, it's quite hard to get time off here but Benedict suggested we all take a school trip to go camping. I guess I just wanted to give you warning. I think the classes are going to dissolve and mix with one another so it should be easy for me to get away. I want to know if any of you would like to come with me. It could be potentially dangerous and I personally don't think it's a good idea but for Eliphia and Joanne especially, whose friends have been kidnapped, I thought I owed you all to at least ask. You've all been so helpful over the past few weeks, I had to at least give you the choice. And, I have to admit, I'm significantly frightened by the prospect of going alone." James held his head aloft to show he was not afraid of admitting his fear.
 I glanced at Eliphia, who had been a member of the James McAvoy Fan Club when I joined and had therefore known Jan and Tara for longer. Her hands were set in fists and she was rubbing her knuckles with her thumb. Annisa and Hanien seemed similarly determined. I took a deep breath and stood from my seat at the kitchen table. I found the others also now on their feet and joined them in circling round the side of the table to where James was now also in the process of standing. We stood in a semi-circle in front of him and wrapped him into a hug.
 "So that's a yes, then?" he croaked as he emerged from the huddle, seemingly willing back tears.
 "Absolutely," Eliphia whispered.
 Annisa, Hanien and I nodded our assent and James nodded back.
 "Okay," James raised his voice back to normal level, or even slightly above, "Any ideas for a campsite, Joanne? I reckon there would be some objections to wild camping from all the girls."
 "Hey, you'd object too if you couldn't pee standing up. Anyway, I know one near Dumfries. It's quite close to Wigtown. Oh... wait... "
 "What?" James raised an eyebrow.
 "There may be a slight problem," I murmured, "Just how allergic are you to horses?"

Part 6 - The Goofy-goobers ROCK

 Our music teachers - all nine of them - arrived a little early to the classroom. James was still in the midst of a geography lesson about the different types of rock that exist in the world. Well, the lesson had descended into somewhat of a singsong. Someone had suggested that one of the most prominent types of rock in Britain in the seventies was 'punk rock' and James had immediately responded by blurting out a few verses of the Ramones song, 'Sheena is a Punk Rocker'. This had led through Joan Jett's rendition of 'I Love Rock 'n' Roll' and Elvis Presley's 'Jailhouse Rock', all the way to 'Goofy-goobers Rock', which was sung at the climax moment of the Spongebob Squarepants movie.
 "I'm a goofy-goober, ROCK, you're a goofy-goober, ROCK, we're all goofy-goobers, ROCK, goofy-goofy-goofy-goober, ROCK!" James had his eyes lying shut and was head-banging as he sang.
 He noticed Tom Fletcher of McFly mouthing the words from the doorway and giggled.
 "Sorry about that. I'll, uh, just be getting going now." James chuckled.
 "No, no, not at all." Dougie Poynter shook his head. "Wrap up in your own time."
 James nodded and clapped his hands together then realised he had very little to say. He nodded again, shot the four of us - Hanien, Annisa, Eliphia and I - a pointed glance and trotted out of the room, nearly skipping.
 The members of the two groups shuffled in and lined up along the front wall of the room. They looked awkwardly between each other and eventually it was the curly-haired one from One Direction who began to speak. The one that went out with Taylor Swift ... Harry Styles! That's his name. He began to outline the music course that we'd be undertaking this year and I'll give him that he was very enthusiastic about it. In fact, I'd probably have been sufficiently interested if I hadn't been constantly comparing him to the musical delights of James singing songs from beloved children's movies.
 Since there were five tables and nine teachers, it was decided to split the teachers between tables. We were assigned Tom Fletcher and Liam Payne.
 "So, any questions?" Tom asked.
 "Do you like Chameleon Circuit?" I asked, "You know, the Trock band."
 "The what?" Liam spluttered.
 "Trock. Time Lord rock," Tom explained, "My sister is best friends with the man who invented it and I'm a massive Whovian so yes I am very excited by Trock."
 "Wait," Annisa murmured, "Is that Doctor Who music?"
 "Absolutely," put in Isaac. He and Tom, at the head of the table, could barely contain their laughter at Liam's bemused expression. "Actually, Annisa, Chameleon Circuit is that band that was on in the bus. Remember, the one me and Joanne started singing along to?"
 Annisa nodded and Liam still looked befuddled so we continued on to more traditional ground.
 "Do you know any of our stuff?" Tom asked, gesturing to himself and Liam.
 Tom and I both replied that we'd been big fans of McFly since childhood but weren't so well acquainted with One Direction. This seemed satisfactory to both of them and the teachers began to discuss what we were about to start work on.
 "Basically, we're making an album," Tom explained, "We need people taking on all the different roles. Liam and I will be producing. All the music is going to come from you. Okay, two people to sing and play rhythm guitar, someone to play lead guitar, someone to play drums, someone to play bass and sing backing vocals and someone to play keyboard and sing backing vocals."
 A few minutes of deliberating and we had our band.

 I was nervous suggesting myself to play lead guitar but I reckon keeping my voice out of the spotlight was a viable way of not seeming conceited. Plus, I had a year to improve the skills I'd been growing to fairly little extent over a year of guitar classes and I had Tom Fletcher to help me do it. To be honest, this really was helping take our minds off whatever James was planning.
 My mind, however, was sucked back to the subject of James when he appeared like a spectre in the hallway towards the end of the lesson. He cleared his throat and we excused ourselves from the class on the grounds that there were 'a few things left to take care of' in the matter of resolving our 'row'. Of course, James actually needed an update on if we'd managed to make contact with Jan or Tara yet but it seemed a good idea to stick to our cover story.
 He led us back to the same office room we'd been in earlier and we all took our places at the table. This time, James had carried in a chair which he placed at the edge of the table and sat himself down on. He tapped his foot on the ground for a few moments then agitatedly cleared his throat and set his hands face down on the table's surface.
 "So, Eliphia, Joanne, any contact with Jan or Tara?" James muttered.
 "Well... " I glanced at Eliphia as I started to update him, "...  we commented on something they posted in your fan club on the open day and we didn't get any reply but, an account called P. Z. Proseguard. We remembered that Paul's initials are P. Z. and Proseguard is a combination of the words 'prosetic' and 'guardians'."
 "What did he say?" James squeaked.
 Eliphia answered, "He said to message him. Which we did. On private messaging he told us that he was in fact Paul and he revealed to us what he wanted."
 "Why didn't he make his demands known before?" James wondered.
 "He wanted to communicate to you, James, directly. Of course by this point we'd explained that we were at the Internet School so he realised he could reach you through us," Eliphia explained, "What he wanted was for the school to immediately shut down. He said in exchange, Jan and Tara would be returned."
 "Or else?" James prompted.
 "Or else he would keep them locked up and they'd know for the rest of their lives that their idol, James McAvoy, had abandoned them," I finished.
 James crossed his arms on the table and lay his head in the diamond created. He made a groaning sound and we could actually see him quivering in frustration. We each lay a hand on his balled up fists which formed a sort of canal gate that let his hair flow through in tufts. We patted him in consolation and he raised himself up to full height in the chair.
 "We are not letting this school close. We are not letting him hurt Jan and Tara," James declared.
 "But what can we possibly do?" Annisa asked.
 "I don't know yet. I only know that those are two things we can definitely not do. What about Twitter, Annisa, Hanien?" James turned to each of them, both on either sides of the table. "Anything to report about Paul's companion?"
 "Nothing much," Annisa reported, "Just normal, mundane status updates. What we did find was the Prosetic Guardians main Twitter account. There are a couple of admins and one of them mentioned something about Mogul Ziemkoll."
 "Who's Mogul?" Eliphia asked.
 "It's a term for somebody important, the leader of something," Hanien explained, "We think Paul may be a Mogul in the Prosetic movement."
 "Okay... " James ruffled his hair. "What kind of accounts did you make? Did you make contact with anyone on Twitter?"
 "The accounts are kind of like Paul's on Facebook," Hanien explained, "I am H-Canon. Annisa is H-Guard. We didn't talk to anyone but we favourited a couple of that account's tweets and got followed by some of its followers."
 "Okay." James shuddered in a breath. "Well done, very well done. And thank you, all four of you."
 James gestured for us to stand up and gather around him. He wrapped his arms around all of us and his head sank into a massive group hug. As he ushered us out to go ahead of him to P.E., his voice was starting to crack and I could see his jaw set in an attempt to hold back tears. He did well and when he appeared in the P.E. hall ten minutes later in an X-Men t-shirt, he was as cheery and charming as ever, I even heard him slip out a few lines of the goofy-goobers rock as he surveyed our badminton games around the hall.

Part 5 - Our Mission

We were led to a quiet room with grey walls, four plastic chairs and a lone wooden table. On one wall, to our right when we entered, was a rectangular whiteboard which stretched from almost one side of the room to the other. It displayed a few notes in squiggly handwriting that I didn't even attempt to read.
"What is this place?" Hanien asked.
"This is where all the magic happens, somewhat literally," James explained, "What we need to do now is going to involve a much more electronic means. Joanne, Eliphia, get your phones out and get on Facebook. Hanien and Annisa we need you two to get on Twitter and create anonymous accounts. We're going to have these accounts follow the account of someone Paul was sighted talking to by a journalist. They won't tell us where that was yet but I reckon we can make a start at finding out."
 James gestured for us to sit down and we positioned ourselves around the table in the same way we had when we'd been in the classroom. James rolled up the sleeves of his pale turquoise shirt and ran his hands through his hair, which was fairly floppy from this gesture having been repeated many times. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table, his fingers gripping the table's edges. He exhaled through closed lips which caused his entire mouth to vibrate.
 "Look, this is difficult for me. We've been told that Paul has affiliation with an extremist group known as the Prosetic Guardians. They're an extreme canonist group that strongly disagree with fanfiction and any over-analysis of literature. They believe that engagement and speculation is to sully a piece of someone's work, no matter the medium. They believe that it is not the place of the reader or audience to apply their own ideas to the work of somebody else. They want to abolish the study of literature in schools, ban sites that support fanfiction and break up book clubs. They want people to read books and discuss the ideas put forward by the writer only with the writer.
 "I don't agree with this. I never will. It goes against all the values of creativity, imagination and involvement that this school tries so hard to embody. But I just can't imagine Paul doing this. He was such a happy boy. He loved talking about all things Marvel. I just can't think what might have pushed him to this. To tell the truth, I'm worried it was me." James traced a semi-circle on the floor with the big toe on his right foot. "He wanted to talk to me about more than his social life that day. I don't know what but I've never told anyone that, not even Benedict and Michael. It sounded serious. He sounded really angry and desperate but I just kept promising I'd talk to him about it after the open day was over but he was just getting angrier and angrier and calling me an egoist, which, I guess, was totally accurate at the time. All he would say was that he had a big decision to make. I can only assume that the decision was whether or not to join the Guardians."
 James folded at the waist and his head sank down to the surface of the table.
 Eliphia patted his tense wrist. "We're on it, James."
 He drew in a breath and nodded. "Okay. I'll catch up with you all towards the end of Music because that's my free period and its lunch next. I need you to be discreet about this. If anyone asks where you were... I don't know... maybe you all had a fight and I was helping you resolve it?"
 "What could we be fighting over?" I wondered.
 "James," Hanien answered automatically.
 "What?" James faced her. "Did you want something?"
 "No." Hanien shook her head. "We could be fighting over you."
 James puffed his shoulders. "Huh. I've never had people fight over me. I could get used to this."
 I flicked his knuckle with my fingernail. "Focus... "
 "Yes, okay." James shook his head. "Okay, let's go to English. Oh, and nobody breathes a word about Paul Ziemkoll to Ian McEwan."

 Ian McEwan's English class was, to me at least, exhilarating. I could have listened to him all day as he talked about themes and symbolism and how to manipulate an audience into crying their eyes dry over the tragic death of a fictional character. I certainly trusted his advice on the subject, given that I'd never spoken to anyone who'd read or seen 'Atonement' that hadn't been screaming their throats raw at Briony by the end. In fact, on multiple occasions in his 2012 novel 'Sweet Tooth', I'd been so shocked that I'd actually gasped sharply like a surprised cartoon character. I did not, however, take all that many notes. I found myself at the end of his opening speech with my pen poised over an English jotter like I'd been frozen in an iceberg at the beginning of the lesson. My wrist had fallen limp and my eyes stung from forgetting to blink.
 "Any questions?" he asked cheerily.
 As it happened, I did have one. "When you were describing Briony's love of writing at the beginning of 'Atonement', did you ever worry you were very similar in some respects to her?"
 "Actually," he mused, "I think James McAvoy has a great theory on that one. Briony is the centre of her Universe and will never emerge from the little bubble she lives in. I can promise myself that this is not who I am, because I just asked you all if she had any questions and Briony would never have thought of doing that."
 A couple of people asked questions about historical accuracy and the casting of Benedict Cumberbatch as Paul Marshall, whose features were described as 'slightly out of place' or something like that. Eliphia, Hanien, Annisa and I found ourselves fidgeting and rhythmically tapping on the desk. I felt guilty, given that these English classes were most of the reason I'd applied to the Internet School in the first place. Still, James was relying on us to act normal so I took a deep breath and scribbled down what I could remember of what Ian had been saying.

Part 4 - History Lesson

 There were two rooms of beds - one for boys, one for girls. I was in bed nine, Annisa in bed ten, Hanien in bed eleven and Eliphia bed twelve. I tried to sleep that night, honestly, I did but I was too distracted by the electronic welcome pack James had issued us on his way to his own bedroom, which was even further along the hallways. There was an iPod like device that was connected onto Wi-Fi with a personalised password that we'd listed in our forms. The extra services, the school services, were incredible. There were syllabuses and activities and trivia games and maps and free books from the Writer teachers, free music from the Musician and free movies from the Actor teachers. I was awake until at least one in the morning before I finally convinced myself to try to sleep.
 Even so, I found myself bubbling over with anticipation on the morning of our first lessons. I woke at around seven, with classes starting at half past eight. I roused Annisa, Hanien and Eliphia, who were equally excitable. Then we were off on our quest for breakfast. We found James in navy pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt at a table in the kitchen, munching on a bowl of 'Frosties'.
 "Ah, morning," he gargled through the milk, "I was going to wake everyone at quarter past."
 "I don't think we're the only ones awake," Eliphia noted, "I think we were just the only ones who actually got up."
 "Right, well, cereal's in the cupboard, milk's in the fridge, bread's in the cupboard under the chopping board and the toaster, well, I guess you can see the toaster." James gestured to his left at the sleek cuboid of metal with rounded edges that we all presumed was the toaster.
 I fixed myself some cornflakes and eyed the bookshelf in the living room through the kitchen's doorway as I ate.
 "What kind of books you got?" I asked between spoonfuls.
 "Erm, some teenage stuff and some adult stuff. The teenage stuff is mostly adventure, fantasy and sci-fi. The adult stuff is where you'll find all the romance, thrillers and mysteries. Get something down while you eat if you want," James offered.
 "Maybe once I'm more used to the morning routine. A book will just distract me and I don't want to be late on the first - Eliphia how can you be finished already?!"
 She was not the only one. Hanien had also finished her breakfast and Annisa wasn't far off.
 "Oh, come on," I sighed, "I know I eat slowly but just come on."
 James patted me on the back and announced he was going to go and wake up the rest of the class. Hanien and Annisa stayed with me while I finished but Eliphia said she took a while to get ready in the morning so she left to go get started. I gobbled up my cereal fast enough to almost choke me and hurried off to the bathrooms to beat the queues which were soon to crop up once James woke everyone else. Once we were dressed in casual clothes and our uniform cloaks, the whole class gathered in the living room to be briefed on how the classes would work.
 "Obviously you're all of different ages," James began, "but we've talked to the teachers from your old schools and we know exactly how to continue with the education of each one of you. The fandom classes will be focussed mainly on media studies and analysing some of the most adventure-filled, action-packed books around, such as Divergent, The Hunger Games and the Gone series. Also, Narnia. I love that part. Today, the classes go History, English, Geography, Music, Tech, Computing and P.E. English will be taught by Ian McEwan and Music will be taught by a group job-share, yes, you heard that right, between McFly and One Direction."
 There were a series of whoops and groans, in equal measure. Me, I was almost exploding at the fact that I would be taught music by McFly, whom I'd listed as my favourite band. One Direction, however, I was as yet undecided about. I tried to keep an open mind and hope they weren't as rigid as they appeared on TV. James declared that he was done and led us all out of the common room and onto the main circuit of corridors. These led us onto an ornate balcony that ringed around a high-ceilinged hall with stained glass of BBC television shows. There were digital noticeboards blinking all over the walls and more of those displays I'd seen on the way to the common room.
 The classroom we stopped in was nothing special. Well, it did have a giant poster with the picture from James's staff ID card on it. Other than the decoration, though, there was little to distinguish it from a regular classroom. James gestured for us to take a seat at the blocks of desks around the room. There were five groups of three two-person tables. They were arranged with the long edges of two of the tables lined up together and the final table had its long edge lined up against the join, like a Lego brink stabilising the structure.
 Annisa, Hanien, Eliphia and I sat at the one nearest James's desk. I swear we weren't sucking up. Honestly, the other tables were just flooded with people before we even finished the conversation we'd been having on the way there. The table was at the left of the room and was joined to James's desk which joined to the wall on its right edge. I sat in the chair near the computer end of his desk, which put me in a snug corner between the wall, the desk and Annisa, who was on my right. Across from me was Eliphia, who was nearest to where James was perched on the edge of his desk and next to her on her left was Hanien. Isaac sat at the end of the table that faced the front, on the left side which put him perpendicular to Annisa. Beside him was a boy called Tom who turned out to be from Motherwell, which is a town near where I live.
 James slid the cap off the lens of the projector on the left hand side of his desk and a slideshow sprang onto the wall.
 "So," he began, "Before we start History today, I'm going to explain how your Digi-packs, those are the things that look like phones, work. There is a scoring system based on the number of hours you spend studying and the results you get in your exams. You can use the points to win prizes such as free books, episodes of television shows, films. This is also where you're going to store the character we're going to make up throughout the year."
 We all examined the Digi-packs and entered the names of the characters we'd come up with into an app that James said he, Michael and Benedict had designed. I'd asked James the night before to change the name of my character, since I'd been inspired by Karim Gecko and now wanted to set my character in the past and 'Martha' isn't exactly a traditional name. He said that was okay.
 "Obviously everyone's going to be studying different aspects of history but I'm going to try to get round everybody today and find out how I can help you. I'll start with you, Eliphia." James swivelled off the desk and was suddenly standing over Eliphia.
 He got around us fairly quickly and in plenty of time to get started on his imperialism through the ages.
 Pointing to a large area of turquoise on a map of twelfth century Europe, he declared, "This was the great Angevin Empire. On his mother's side, that's Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart was entitled to the Duchies of Aquitaine and Gascony. The Duchy of Normandy came from his father, Henry II, as did the Kingdom of England and the Lordship of Ireland. Wales and Scotland were vaguely under his control but not officially in the Empire. The counties included in the Angevin Empire were Anjou, Poitou, Maine, Touriane, Saintonge, Marche, Périgord, Limousin, Nantes, and Quercy."
 With each county name he smacked the projector screen with his index finger for emphasis. An arrow would simultaneously slide into place behind where he was pointing and name the county.
 He grinned. "D'you like my slideshow. I spent most of yesterday on it."
 "Yes, James," we chorused.
 He giggled and asked if anyone knew anything about the Angevin Empire.
 "I know that Richard the Lionheart didn't speak English very well," I offered, "Ironic isn't it?"
 "Yes." James nodded. "Actually, I saw a book about him on your 'recently read' list. Be careful what you take from it though. Historical fiction is not always to be trusted."
 I nodded.
 The bell was due to go soon so James had us all tidy up our History jotters. Somebody called him from outside the classroom and he jogged out to find where the voice had come from. When he returned, his face was dark and troubled. He motioned to the doorway and said Ian McEwan would be there soon to teach us English. Before he left, he gestured for Eliphia, Annisa, Hanien and I to follow him. I broke off a conversation with Tom about Harry Potter and trotted out just behind them.
 "What's wrong, James?" Annisa asked, the worry in her voice underlining how all of us felt.
 "Nope," James mumbled, "Not here. Come with me. Now."

Part 3 - Hide 'n' Seek

 I have never sat in a chair as comfortable as the armchair I sprawled in while I counted to fifty, a slow fifty. James left for a while to go take care of what he called 'some bureaucratic gobbledygook' and I imagine he was surprised to come back and find us all crouching under tables and behind wardrobes, wrapped up in the most exciting game of hide 'n' seek ever. I smiled to myself as I lay on the couch with my eyes screwed shut, my hands behind my head. I knew this place would be good.
 "Ready or not, here I come!" I called, just as I spotted James stroll through the door.
 He giggled and gestured for me to continue. "You want any help?"
 "I don't know if I'm allowed," I murmured, "Okay, how about after I find the first person and therefore we know who will be het next, you help me?"
 "Sure," James nodded.
 I peeled off to my left and sauntered down the first hallway. I was fairly certain that that was where I'd heard everybody thunder off to when I'd first started counting. The hallways were more like tunnels, with bright spots of light poking out of concave doors that led off of them. The first hallway I paced down was the most unsettling. I'm not bad with the dark, but it was just so silent. Silence is what comes before the storm and also what comes immediately before I begin to panic. Ironically, I also freak out at sudden loud noises. I wished I had enrolled James in the search so at least I'd have him beside me to listen to.
 I crept into one of the rooms, caught between ridding myself of the silence and making too much noise to be able to hear any mouth-breathers that might be giving away their hiding places. This room was a laundry room by the looks of things. There were three washing machines, three tumble dryers and three clothes-horses lining the room and the paper was a very bright yellow. I checked all nine of these items before realising that immediately behind the door, which had opened inwards to the right, was a stocky wooden wardrobe.
 I cracked open the door of the wardrobe and thrust my hand in, waving it back and forth among the waterproof jackets and waterproof trousers. My hand quickly happened upon the warmth of a body and I let out a sigh of relief as I cried out my victory.
 "Ha! Found you! You're het," I smiled.
 "Het?" came a feminine voice from within with an Asian accent, though I couldn't place it any more than that.
 "Yeah, like, you're counting next?"
 "Oh, right, you mean 'it'?" The girl emerged clumsily from the wardrobe.
 "I guess. Sorry, I guess that must be a slang thing. So where are you from then? What's your name?"
 "I'm Hanien." The girl and I shook hands. "I'm from Dubai. I'm a humongous fan of James's. He's brilliant."
 "Cool. I'm Joanne. I'm from Scotland."
 "Yeah, you're the girl who went first with the characters?"
 "Yeah. Oh, I just remembered, James said he'd help find the rest of the class after I found the first one."
 "Let's go get him?"
 I nodded and jogged back out of the laundry room. I swooped back along the hallway and sprang into the main room, which I guess was the living room. James was lying on one of the couches reading a newspaper, with a can of Irn Bru in his hand.
 "Found one?" he asked after swallowing a large swig.
 "Yep. Can we have a hand please?" I motioned to Hanien.
 "Course." James flipped off of the couch and skidded over to us. "I think you should check under the beds."
 We found four people in a kitchen room and another five in what appeared to be a storage unit, judging by the junk it housed. They in turn also found more people and by the time we reached the bedrooms, we had amassed a company of twenty pupils. The first nine of those remaining were under the beds, one of which was Isaac. The last pupil left, I realised, was Annisa.
 James crossed to one of the beds, bed '10', and slumped down on it, resting his chin on his hand, which in turn was rested on his knee The beds were mahogany four-posters with surfaces equivalent to the area of the bed raised about six feet above it, like a bunkbed without the top bunk.
 "Hmm," he murmured, "That's pretty much where everyone normally -"
 A large groaning sound came from above James's head.
 "What the hell was that?" a Welsh girl's voice exclaimed. I think her name was Cara.
 James's eyes slid upwards and he raised his eyebrows towards the flat surface above him. He swung out from the bed and placed his feet on its surface, gripping the flat surface above with both hands.
 "Oh, wow," he muttered, "Well done! How on Earth did you get up here?!"
 We craned our necks upwards and sure enough, there was Annisa lying flat on her belly on the top surface of the bed. James clapped her on the back and offered her a hand to help her back down. She swung her legs off the edge and James helped her guide her feet to the mattress. James looked out at the assembled group of students and clapped his hands together.

 "Right. Time for dinner."

 For dinner, we all marched out to the school's six canteen halls. We split up according to culinary choices, each canteen being assigned to a particular continent's food; there didn't seem much point including a section for Antarctica. James declared that he had a 'hankering' for risotto and I always make a point of inspecting the green pesto sauce of any restaurant I eat at so I caught a hold of Annisa and Hanien and we three headed off to the European hall, a respectful distance behind James. We didn't want to look like we were staking him.

  In the end, it didn't matter, because James beckoned for us to sit with him, Benedict Cumberbatch and Michael Fassbender. The ordering systems were electronic and used touch screens built into the surface of the table. I scrolled through the lists of Italian dishes and quickly found what I was looking for. The girl across from me, Eliphia, had been one of the people found under the beds in the game. Hanien sat next to her and Annisa sat next to me. At Annisa's right sat James and across from him was Michael. Benedict sat at the head of the table like a content King.

 "So what do you all want to do when you grow up?" Michael asked.

 "Oh, oh, oh!" James flapped his hands. "Let me try and remember from the forms. Okay, Joanne, you want to be a writer. I know that. Eliphia is going to be a fashion designer and Annisa... chemist isn't it?"

 "Yeah"

 "And where's Hanien?"

 "She's at the bathroom," Eliphia explained.

 "So writing." Michael turned to me. "What kind of things do you write."
 "A couple of novels and some fanfiction."
 Benedict's alarm was plainly evident. "What kind of fanfiction?"
 "Nothing like that, honest," I promised. Benedict's fans do have a notorious reputation for... intense fanfiction.
 "Who's the English teacher for your class, James?" Michael asked.
 "Actually, I'm really quite happy. It's Ian McEwan this year. Remember, the guy who wrote 'Atonement'?" James urged Michael on seeing his blank expression.
 "Oh." Benedict lowered his head.
 "What?" James's alarm seeped slightly out of him.
 "Paul Ziemkoll was in his class last year," Benedict whispered, but loud enough that we heard him.
 "Oh," James replied.
 "Oh," echoed Michael.
 "Who's Paul Ziemkoll?" Hanien, who was now back from the bathroom, asked.
 "Oops." James gulped. "Well, you might as well know. There was this conference day near the end of last year where the school opened its doors and fans could join us for the entire day. There were two women in particular, Jan and Tara, who were big fans of, well, me. And as for Paul... I'd become like a mentor to him. He'd be consulting me on all the work he produced and talking to me about personal things too. Anyway, I was talking to Tara and Jan all day because who wouldn't want to talk to someone who complimented everything you did? Paul had some serious problems at the time. I think the girl he fancied had just started going out with his best friend and there had been a huge fight, a physical one, and Paul had been alienated from all his friends. Anyway, I didn't see him all day until the very end when he appeared with two knives from the kitchens, one in each hand. He pressed the tip of one to Tara's back and the other to Jan's and he nearly killed them. Eventually we convinced him to put the knives down but at dinner he was gone and so were Jan and Tara."
 "How could they be gone?" Eliphia was aghast.
 "We don't know," Michael replied solemnly, "but the police and some journalists have some leads."
 "Kind of like 'State of Play'," I observed.
 "Yes." James pointed energetically at me. "Yes, precisely like 'State of Play'. The best Sergeant Chewy's and Cal McAffrey's and Della Smith's are on the case. I promise. I even met some of them. It's just hide 'n' seek. They'll find him."
 "Actually," Benedict put in, "there are even rumours that they established contact with Jan and Tara over Facebook-"
 "No way!" I cried, "Oh my God, Eliphia, you're that Eliphia, aren't you. And Jan, it's Jan Warren isn't it. And Tara. Oh my God. We have to get on Facebook!"
 Eliphia already had her phone out and was tapping at the keypad.
 "What, what, what?" James's eyes seemed to be whirling.
 "Your Facebook Fan Club. Jan created it. Tara practically lives in it."
 "Last thing Tara posted was a status about finally meeting James, a month and a half ago," Eliphia murmured, "That's highly unusual for Tara. She's normally never off Twitter."
 "What about Jan?" James asked urgently.
 "Something about how she felt kind of bad for stealing James away from that student," Eliphia sighed.
 James looked distraught and opened his mouth to say something but had to stop because the food arrived just as he was about to speak. It hurtled down in miniature versions of the carts on rollercoasters, along a swooping track of four parallel bars that led all around the canteen hall. The hall itself was packed with students and the walls were wooden panelled like the hall of a Plantagenet or Tudor monarch. The benches we sat on were cushioned with plush green upholstery that dipped every few inches to a pale green button in the fabric. The excitement the hall contained was easily comparable to the raucous cheering in the court of Henry VIII, at least enough to overwhelm all talk of kidnapping. The rest of the meal was typical of a pleasant night out among friends, which I guess meant that that's what all seven of us were. We were friends.

Part 2 - Orientation

 James guided us through a vast network of laminate floored corridors and stone staircases, listening all the way as we listed every fandom we belonged to and what fandom classes we were hoping to take, to add to our already enormous stack of regular, curriculum subjects. Apparently there was even a support group to help people cope with emotions aroused by their favourite works of literature, television and film. The uniform was so cool, too. We would be getting cloaks with hoods, one each of thin and thick material. They were each emblazoned with the flag of our country of origin - which was optional as sometimes race issues came into play, though most racists normally got expelled - as well as the logo of our Major Fandom. Mine is and always will be Nerdfighteria. It's an internet community based on two Youtubing brothers, one of which wrote the acclaimed 'The Fault In Our Stars', the other writes songs about Harry Potter and anglerfish. I connect with their values of having pride in what you love, who you love and the message that you can express that love as much as you want because it's your love. Their emblem is two crossed over hands doing the 'Live Long And Prosper' hand sign that Spock does in Star Trek, which reminded me that if James had a Major Fandom, it would most likely be Star Trek.
  "James?" I turned to my left to face him.
  "Aye, what's up?" he responded, with a calming smile.
  "Do the teachers belong to fandoms?"
  "Probably depends what counts as fandoms. For me, would you mean X-men or Star Trek?"
  "Star Trek, I think."
  "Then I guess we do but we organise ourselves by the productions we've been involved in."
  "Well, Patrick Stewart could be both!" Isaac exclaimed.
  "Yeah, I guess he could," James agreed, "Anyway, we're here!"
  'Here' was a fairly disappointing set of wooden double doors that was almost identical to the sets of doors in my old school. There were three small square windows that lined up vertically and a metal handle that was about the height of one of them. I must have sagged a little or sighed because James patted me reassuringly on the back.
  "Don't worry. It's just a perception filter," he smiled, "It'll be taken off after orientation."
He guided us inside and took his place next to Michael Fassbender in a long line of teachers. Annisa, Isaac and I shuffled forwards into a row of bright green plastic seats, again rather unimpressed at the normality of the place. Isaac was furthest into the row and began chatting to a young Mediterranean girl on his right about Sherlock. I'd have joined in, but I didn't want to alienate Annisa. Instead, I focussed the conversation on James.
  "That was the coolest few minutes of my life," I squeaked.
  "Yeah, me too. And he was so nice not to get freaked out by us," Annisa agreed.
  "Do you think he teaches all our classes?" I wondered.
  "I don't know but I think that man on the steps is about to start a speech." Annisa pointed to the large steps that led to the upper section of the hall. Standing on the top one, with his hands folded in front of him... was Steven Moffat.
  "Hello there ladies and gentlemen, fanboys and fangirls," Moffat began, "I hope you've all been exploding with 'feels' and girls, what is it you all say about ovaries? Anyway, don't be alarmed. I'm not going to feed you to the weeping angels. I'm just here to welcome you all, me being the headmaster and all.
  "The first thing that's going to happen today is your assignment to a Teacher. Your Teacher will take most of your classes, the ones they don't teach being either English, Music or Drama, depending on whether you have an Actor Teacher, a Musician Teacher or a Writer Teacher. Your class will mostly be people who have either the same Favourite Actor, Favourite Musician,  Favourite Writer, or Major Fandom as you and I think that's all I have to say except, Professor Cox, if you would turn off the filters?"
  I twisted around a spotted Brian Cox to my left with a black remote control in his hand, tapping at a few buttons. As soon as he lifted his hand away, the most extraordinary thing I've ever seen happened. The entire banality of the hall, all its plastic, all its wooden tiles began to merge together and swirl away in great smudges of jagged brown rock. The ceiling no longer had tiles, it had stalactites and the floor was dotted with round-topped stalagmites. We were in a cave! I squinted and spotted a few fluorescent lightbulbs lining the upper parts of the walls so I knew there was still electricity. Phew.
  Annisa and I glanced towards James, who winked and grinned. It was as if he was actually trying to melt our insides. He motioned with his head back to the front and we returned our attention to Steven Moffat. He held a stack of paper and was reading lists of names from it.
  "... Amalie Gateaufort, Isaac Rashid, Lucian Poreto, you're all with James McAvoy," Moffat read.
  "Did he say us?" Annisa asked Isaac, "Me and Joanne, I mean."
  "Yeah," Isaac murmured, "Come on."
  We slid out of what were now stone chairs and jogged up towards James. He beckoned for the trickle of people to follow him out of the massive stone doors of the cavern. Once outside we were in an ornate stone-floored corridor with mahogany walls, which every few yards were interrupted by bright screens the size of a bank machine screen with flashing logos welcoming us to the school. A couple of the screens were still blinking with words I was walking too fast to read but they were all in bright fonts and looked incredibly joyous. I was a few people away from James but I used the top of his head as a beacon to guide me wherever we were actually going.

 After a few minutes of excited walking and talking to Annisa about everything except James because we were pretty sure he'd be able to hear us, we halted suddenly at a large round door like a port-hole. Painted onto it were two symbols: The Scottish flag and a Star Trek insignia.
 "This must be James's office or something," whispered Annisa.
 "I'd have thought so," I agreed.
 James raised his voice so that all thirty pupils could hear him. "Okay, this is my class's common room. My class is you, ergo this is your common room. Yes, I know that this door looks like the kind that leads into a hobbit-hole and to be honest what's beyond kind of looks like a hobbit-hole but we call it a common room because it ties into the Harry Potter fandom. Anyway, in you all go."
 We drifted into the room with gleeful anticipation, with no idea what to expect. As Annisa and I crossed the threshold, with Isaac talking our ears off about Jean-Luc Picard, we could see James smile smugly. It had to be good, whatever was in there, or else James was just being mean, which made no sense at all.
 The entryway was a short dark space, with circular walls and a large step at both ends. It served well to highlight the bright, happy, exciting room we stepped into next. It was decorated in wallpaper of comic strips and the screens I'd seen in the corridor were dispersed around the room. There were leather couches of dark colours and armchairs of a soft, suede-like material dotted around the vast room and tables scattered everywhere. There were towering cupboards in each of the room's four corners, although the room was circular, so you could hardly call them corners.
 The boy who'd asked the bus driver about how much left of the drive there had been turned to James. "Hi, I'm Daniel. What's in the cupboards, sir?"
 "I'll tell you later and there is no need to call me 'sir'. In this school there are some teachers who actually are 'sirs' so it can get kind of confusing. I'm James. Or, if I'm hyper, The Professor." James's eyes glazed over and he smiled. I wondered mischief he got into when he was hyper.
 "As in Professor X?" Annisa asked.
 "Ah, no, but good point." James smiled. "Anyway, let's get to know each other."
 He vaulted over the back of a couch and beckoned us round to the other side of it. We stood in an awkward clump in front of his couch as he sipped from a bottle of water. He eyed us over the top of the bottle, as if he was surveying us. It felt alien, so un-Jamesy. Or maybe he was just pretending, in which case it was classic James McAvoy, or so I'd deduced from what I'd seen in interviews.
 "So ..." he began, "there are thirty of you. That's a lot of names to learn. I'm doing well so far this year. I know four already, that's Daniel, Annisa, Joanne and Isaac. Why don't you four start us off. Basically, what I did last year was each of the pupils created a character through the year. The first thing we did was name them. Joanne, you go first."
 I faltered. "Um... I - uh - am I supposed to take on the persona of a character or am I just creating a person?"
 "Just make a person. Shouldn't be too hard, I'd have thought. I, uh, read that you were a writer?" James nodded towards me with his head.
 "Yes, um, I guess I am. Okay, um, who shall I choose? Does it have to be somebody like me?" I was really just playing for time.

 "Actually, no. Preferably someone not like you at all." James ruffled his hair, only distracting me further.

 "Okay, then. Martha McClellan. I've been toying with get for a while and I'd like to get her straightened out in my head."

 "Great." James nodded. "How about you, Annisa?"

 "Er, Pierre Antoine."

 "And who's he, then?"

 "Maybe he's in Napoleon's army or something?"

 "Sure," James agreed.

 And so we went around the room like that. Thirty character names from thirty pupils, thirty-one if you included James's character of  Karim Gecko, a young jester in the court of King Henry VIII and on into the short reign of Edward II. Karim, who normally went by Gecko, has witnessed the sneakiest acts of trickery of the Tudor dynasty, and that is saying something.

 "So that's the end of orientation," James announced, "Now, who would like to play 'Lord of the Rings Monopoly'?"

Part 1 - The Bus

Quick note: Annisa and I (Joanne) are real but we only know each other from Twitter and are both fairly obsessed with James McAvoy. I made up Isaac so I'd be very surprised if he actually existed. I started this for Annisa but I'll try to include as many fandoms as possible.


 The bus juddered haphazardly to a stop at the traffic lights, the seats creaking forwards from the force. I glanced around the bus's inhabitants, inspecting our new classmates. There were thirty pupils in total, from all walks of life, all races, all colours, all religions and they were roughly split even between boys and girls. The seats of the bus were striped with the colours of the rainbow vertically down grey felt and the aisle between the sets of seats had a peculiar sticky sensation to it.
 The teenagers hadn't spoken much for these first ten minutes of the journey, mostly because nobody knew which language to speak to anyone. Those whose first language was English felt guilty for imposing their language on people; those whose first language was not English didn't want to attempt it for fear of messing up the complicated grammar rules. Eventually somebody beside the driver asked for the radio to be turned on and a calming acoustic song floated out of the speakers.
 I grinned and began to mouth the words. Across the aisle, a dark-skinned boy with lanky black hair began to sing a few lines. I took it as a sign and joined in.
 "'Cause I wanna be... Mr Pond, and I can't lie and sa-ay that I'm fond of the way you've been hurled, into our world. Now that you've saved the day with don't you fly away?" they sang.
The girl beside the boy leaned right towards him and asked him who Mr Pond was.
 "He's from Doctor Who," he smiled. By now about half the bus had joined in. "Technically he's Mr Williams but the Doctor doesn't understand how marriage works so he thinks that Rory took the last name of his wife, Amy Pond."
The girl saw me smiling and introduced herself with an extended hand. "Annisa."
 "This is Isaac." Annisa gestured towards the boy, who promptly shook my hand. "I think Isaac and I are the only people here that actually know each other."
 "I'm Joanne. How come you both got accepted?" I remembered my application. It had specifically mentioned that only one per cent of applicants actually got accepted. It would have been very unlikely for two people from the same country to have been accepted, never mind from the same town.
 "We had a joint application. Our special event was a twenty-four hour picture spam war. Isaac was on Doctor Who, Sherlock and Merlin. I was just using pictures of James McAvoy." Annisa grinned.
 "You're a McAvoyer?!" I exclaimed.
 "Yeah! Are you? Well, obviously, you are. How long have you been?"
 "About nine months but it probably would have been longer had I seen him before that! He's my favourite actor that I applied with!"
 "Awesome. I used him for my major fandom and as my favourite actor."
 "What about you, Isaac?" I asked.
 "Major fandom is Star Trek. Favourite actor David Tennant." Isaac's tone was slightly monotonous as he examined a syllabus leaflet. He lifted his head. "Sorry. I was a bit absorbed. You do realise James McAvoy is one of the teachers here?"
 "Yes," I sighed, "I hope I'm in his class."
 "You probably will be," Isaac assured me, "Actually, us too. They try to put you with your favourite actors and writers as much as possible and since Annisa and I are joint entry, we'll probably both end up in his class."
 "Cool. So where are you two from?"
 "Malaysia, where the sun never gives us a break. And you?"
 "Scotland. Hamilton - to be precise. A small town a few miles outside Glasgow," I replied, "And yes that is a few miles away from where James grew up. Do either of you know where we are now?"
 The car that had taken me from Hamilton to the 'School Terminal' had travelled in what felt like circles for hours and although I was fairly certain we were still on the British Isles, I had no more of an idea than that.
 "I think it's kind of like Hogwarts. We aren't really anywhere," Isaac surmised.
 "How can we - never mind." Annisa shook her head. It probably was best to just not think about any of this logically.
 "Does anyone know how far away it is?" shouted a voice that hadn't yet broken from near the middle of the bus, just in front of Annisa, Isaac and I.
 The bus driver bellowed, "We've got about an hour to go!"
 I could see the boy's shoulders slump as he crumpled into the fold of his seat.
 "Yeah, I feel him," Isaac admitted, "I think I'm going to go for a nap. Wake me if we go for a toilet stop."
 Isaac snuggled down into his headrest and made a high-pitched smacking sound with his mouth that sounded as if he was tasting wine and was unsure about his favourite. He was sort of gangly but quite short, which seemed impossible but somehow completely accurate. However he could be described, his knees were suspended against the back of the next chair and his shins were crossed over in a basket, hanging in mid-air.
 The duration of the bus journey passed with quiet conversations between Annisa and I and the occasional word, murmured in his sleep, from Isaac. Finally, mercifully, the bus juddered to a stop outside a grandiose, sprawling building made of worn sandstone. I'm fairly certain that the spindly stone protrusions from near the edges could be described as turrets. I could imagine this as the Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, or Hogwarts, or basically the boarding school from any major fandom. It was a fitting place for this school.
 As we unloaded from the bus we could hear the hyperventilation of dozens of teenagers, presumably because all of their dreams had just come true, or at least, the ones that involved idols. The actors and writers - writers of television, film, novels, comic books, everything - came flooding out of the building and trickling towards us with the trepidation of an explorer approaching a venomous snake. I spotted Matt Smith, Steven Moffat and Benedict Cumberbatch all walking together. And there was Cassandra Clare, author of the 'The Mortal Instruments' series! And Peter Jackson! And Ian McKellan!
 "Do you see him?" Annisa asked.
 "James?" I turned to face her.
 "Of course," replied Isaac. He grinned. "Who else?"
 "No, I don't see him," I replied, "But you're right, Isaac. We're probably going to be in his class. We'll see him soon enough. Allons-y!"
 "What's that?" Annisa frowned.
 "It's let's go in French," Isaac exclaimed, "Remember, it's what the Tenth Doctor says?"
 "Um, yeah, sure," Annisa smiled.
 We shuffled forward towards the steps that led up to the entrance. By now we were amidst a great herd of students all chattering about whose autographs they were going to get and whom they hoped to get as a teacher. Apparently there was some science/magic stuff all around that made this whole thing possible in the first place but nobody liked to ask. Everyone was too afraid that it would spoil the science/magic.
 "So, why are you two so admiring of this guy?" Isaac asked.
 "Well, to start with," I began tentatively, "he's hard-working. Thinking about how much effort he put into drama school makes me want to try harder at stuff. He's intelligent and mature but also extremely silly and fun."
 "There's no point being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes," Isaac put in.
 "Fourth Doctor?"
 "Yup."
 "Nice. Anyway, I just in generally look up to him and want to be like him when I grow up. Not acting, writing instead, and preferably I wouldn't be a man but other than that. What about you Annisa?"
 "Just that he's so sweet and caring." Annisa ran her hand along the banister. "Mostly what you said. You kind of stole all the words."
 "Sorry about that," I giggled. "Does anyone have any idea where to go?"
 Suddenly a hand appeared on my shoulder and another, identical mirror of it, on Annisa's. It had a pale complexion but was blotched red, which made sense given that the sun had decided to make an appearance and swelter us. Well, it was probably nothing to Annisa and Isaac but to me - and the hand - it was like I was playing Wii Tennis in a sleeping bag. Annisa and I turned around hurriedly, anxious to know who was being so 'friendly'.
Of course it was him. Of course. That's just how the Universe works.
 "Um, I know where to go," James McAvoy ventured, "I hope I do anyway. I mean, I've been here for a year now so you'd think I would."
 "Ah - Um - I - Uh," I stuttered, a sentiment echoed by the bu-bu-bu-bu sound that Annisa made.
 "Oh, for crying out loud, you two." Isaac rolled his eyes. "Hello, I'm Isaac. This is Annisa and this is Joanne. They both have you down as their favourite actor and Annisa even has you down as her favourite 'fandom'. Please excuse them for sounding like fish."
 "Excused. Actually I think I recognise those names." James fished a crumpled sheet of white paper with a table of names on it out of his pocket. "Yep, Annisa, got you and... Joanne?"
 "Yeah?" I croaked.
 "What's your last name? I can't find you on the list."
 "Ferguson." Oh My God. What if I wasn't with him. What if I was with someone I respected but didn't ... that didn't have ... that wasn't James. He is my hero. He is my idol.
 "Hm... I um... " He frowned. Then something in him like resolve seemed to crack and I could see his shoulders quivering. "Oh, would you -" giggle "-look at that. I uh, have been looking at it this whole time and just manipulating you with acting for my own pleasure. Got you."
 "That was cruel and narcissistic," I noted, "but just funny enough to be worth it."
We all softened and turned back towards the school as James motioned us all towards the front doors. I could sense Annisa tense as James guided her with his hand then struggle to relax as she realised how strange that must have seemed. I giggled. This whole day was strange.
 "Well," James announced as Isaac opened the door, "Welcome to the Internet School For Fandom Youngsters. Get the reference?"
 "Yeah," we all answered together.
 "Then you're going to love it here," James grinned.