“Daedalus fashioned two pairs of wings for himself and his son, made of feathers held to a leather frame by beeswax.”

Neil Perry had stood in front of the school, a flag in hand, Excellence Candidate for the Welton Society in the school. A cluster of achievement pins pinned on his coat’s lapel.

“Daedalus had revealed the labyrinth's secrets and thus causing himself and his son, Icarus, to be imprisoned in a large tower connecting to the labyrinth overlooking the ocean.”

Welton was a prestigious boys’ academy. Neil did not come from wealth like most of his peers, he was here on scholarship, his father having fought for every opportunity that would shape him into a man destined for medicine, for stability, for a good future.

“Before escaping, Daedalus warned Icarus not to fly too low or the water would soak the feathers.”

Neil had to be the straight-A student, he had to give his best, his grades must never slip. He must be the perfect son, filial and obedient. He can’t throw away the countless sacrifices his father made for him in order to give him the opportunities his father himself never had and his father only wants him to succeed in life. How dare he disappoint him.

“and not to fly too close to the sun or the heat would melt the wax.”

But Neil doesn’t want that. All this, being a doctor, he doesn’t want it. His father never once asked him what he wanted, how he felt or what his thoughts on anything were. He could never say it to him though. How could he?

“Overcome by giddiness while flying, Icarus disobeyed his father and soared higher into the sky. Slowly, the heat from the sun softened and melted the wax. Icarus could feel melted wax dripping down his arms. The feathers then fell one by one.”

He had to give up the school annual. One thing he felt joy in. He tried arguing, speaking out how much he wanted to do the annual. But quickly submitted to the guilt tripping and stern demeanour of his father.

But the sirens called out to Neil, in form of the new English teacher, Mr Keating, who spoke of living, actually living. Seizing the day, sucking the marrow out of life.

He went behind his father’s back, to audition for a play. A Midsummer’s Night Dream in fact. He was absolutely delighted.

“Icarus kept flapping his "wings", trying to stay aloft, then he realized that he had no feathers left. He was only flapping his bare arms. Watching as loose feathers falling like snowflakes. Finally, he fell into the sea, sank to the bottom, and drowned. Daedalus wept for his son and called the nearest land Icaria in the memory of him.”

Mr Keating finishes his reading and pacing, looking out to the class. “And that is how we get the idiom “flying too close to the sun”. Now, what does Icarus teach us? What does his flight tells you? Not what the book says. Not what the idiom says. What do you think when you hear this story?"

The expected answers rolled out: “Icarus was foolish”, “He didn’t listen”, “He flew too close to the sun”. Each one earned a nod or a half smile from Keating. It wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. A cheeky answer from Charlie made Keating laughed and buzzed him again with the bell.

“Icarus laughed as he plunged.” A quiet voice from the side of the room spoke above the laughter.

Neil turned, it was the guy who was also a banner holder, he carried the Honour flag, he believed. The class quieter down. Keating grins. He went off on, talking more about it, about not parroting what people claimed was the answer, Carpe Diem.

But for once, Neil wasn’t exactly paying attention. The words spoken rung in his head. After the class, Neil broke away from the Poets, noticing you just slightly behind them, they were blocking the whole corridor anyways.

“Hey… about what you said about Icarus? That he might have been smiling. I don’t think anyone else would’ve thought of that…” Neil suddenly spoke to you.