damian. 21. student. đ¨ââď¸ if you would be so kind...
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Kat felt another pang in the pit of her stomach, her insides clenching just a little tighter when Damian explained his enrolment in biological sciences. âOh yeah, I think I remember that,â she had actually forgotten it completely and It was more than likely that they would be in the same circles, maybe even some of the same classes depending on how Katherineâs credits from the University of Oslo translated to Essex. She couldnât help the small, but undeniably fond smile that tugged at the corner of her lips at the mention of the swim team. It felt more like the Damian she recalled for a moment and it was nice. âMaybe not as much has changed,â she conceded. He had felt like a stranger minutes before but all this talk of studying, swimming, volunteering his time for charitable affairs - that was the Damian she knew. The Damian she had been so embarrassingly infatuated with. âItâs a good time to get to know yourself, I think - and not worry so much about other peopleâs opinionsâ at least that had been Katâs experience, a far cry from how she had felt during her high school years.
She wasnât sure if Damian was aware that Andrea was on campus - surely they had crossed paths before but if that was the case, had they truly never spoken about Kat when they did? She tried not to think about it for too long. âJust saw the opportunity and you know, I missed friends and family at home so why not?â she shrugged her shoulders. When he asked about her studies, her mind returned to her previous thought. âNursing, actually,â she wondered if the same thing would cross his mind about them being a part of the same faculty.Â
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It was good time to get to know yourself indeed. Though not worry so much about other peopleâs opinions? Damian didnât know where he stood on that. To a degree, he would always care about how people thought of him. His parents seared into him at a very young age that image was extremely important. Though, he had to admit: people cared less here. Though it did matter to him, he didnât find himself thinking about it as much.
âNursing?â A lengthy beat passed before the realization dawned on him. âOh.â
He wasnât sure what stunned him more â Katâs choice of major or the strong probability of them seeing each other more often than not, possibly even sharing a few classes or at least running in similar circles. He didnât mean to seem so taken aback. It was just a lot that he didnât expect.
âThatâs... thatâs wonderful. I suppose... with that, we may be seeing a lot more of each other then.â He didnât mean to come off so... unforthcoming or unexcited. It was just a lot to process in a very short time.
Wanting to shift things into a more positive direction, Damian thought to offer what help he could. As he would any exchange student he would like to make feel welcome. Or even an old friend... if Kat could even be called that. They were sort of friends once before, werenât they?
âIf you need any pointers or... a study buddy, Iâm around. Still the same handle on Instagram. My number hasnât changed either.â Though he couldnât recall if heâs ever given Kat that. Their communications were either always on one social media platform or another.
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âYes,â she confirmed, trying to keep up with his rambling. Had he always been so prone to crammed as many words into a single comment as humanly possible? âIâm living with my cousin and his family during semester break, itâs good - my grandparents live near by and a lot of people in town know them, so it feels a little bit like being at home,â she explained warmly. She had been so nervous about moving abroad at first but her family members had been so welcoming and helpful, even if they hadnât seen Katherine in person since she was a pre-teen.Â
She raised her eyebrows, surprised to hear that not only was Damian attending a fraternity party, surrounded by frat boys but he was actually a frat boy himself. It didnât quite feel right to Kat. He had always been so disapproving of the wannabe fraternity at Broadripple, the aptly named Broadripple Boys Club.Â
She followed his lead without question, it was almost embarrassing. âIt was scary at first,â she confessed, âSo, the Summer before senior year, my Dad was going to a conference in Finland and his assistant got COVID before he was going so he suggested maybe I go and play PA for a few days, earn a little bit of money and then after the conference we could go to Denmark because I donât have good memories of going there and a quick stop in Sweden because I never been and obviously Norway to see family and stuff,â she explained, âI fell in love honestly, I just felt like I could be there forever. When I got back home I couldnât shut up about it and everything I saw and all the people I met and my Mom was like - well, you know youâre a citizen you can move there any time you want to move there and it was just like a lightbulb up here,â she pointed to the space just above her head. âSo I applied for Universities in Olso and Tromso and Lund, Stockholm, Copenhagen - even in Trondheim all the way up so far North in Norway,â she continued, âI got into a couple but I settled on Oslo because- I donât know, I was nervous about being in a small town,â she hadnât admitted that to anyone before. She recalled his question then, âSo yeah, it was a little bit scary but it was amazing too. My Norwegian got so much better so fast, I figured out how to use the buses by myself and I never felt like an outsider, I guess,â she supposed it helped that Oslo was so used to visitors and migrants alike.
Katherine tried her very best not to visibly flinch at Damianâs use of the word âcopulateâ but she couldnât help the slight twitch in her eye as his syllables formed the phrase. âThatâs fair,â she said to detract from the look on her face, âI donât think I would want that either,â she agreed diplomatically, approaching the charger and plugging her phone in.Â
â-and so, do you have a story for the lastâŚâ she tried to calculate it quickly âFew years?â evidentially math remained an Achilles heel for the blonde so she didnât other with a specific number.
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Damian listened to Kat with a surprising attentiveness despite all of the party bustle going on throughout the house. If anything, it was the way she shared her story that challenged his focus. Finland, Denmark, Sweden, then Norway. His mind pictured each place on a map as she went on. A smile â a genuine one â graced his features when Kat mentioned a lightbulb and pointed above her head. She always did charm him in that way, being sort of... casually offbeat in the most delightful way. âNervous?â He echoed her word choice. âWhy?â One would argue Nighmore, Broadripple... it all felt very small. A tiny world of its own. Wouldnât that be familiar? âIâm very happy for you,â he told her once she finished catching him up on whatâs been going on in her life these past few years. âYou... really seem to have found your place in the world. Always a beautiful thing.â
âMyself? Well...â Damian pressed his lips together thoughtfully. His life, regardless of the details that changed since the last time they saw each other, felt strangely the same. He supposed it came with the territory of following a plan, a path chosen for him before his eyes even properly saw sunlight for the first time. âThe plan was always going into the field of Medicine for me, attending something of an elite establishment on my way there. Hence Essex. Iâm taking Biological Sciences. On the pre-med track with intentions to go to Harvard Medical afterward... I still swim. Captain of the team here now. Spearheading them to victories has been a challenge, but a very rewarding undertaking nonetheless.â What else? âIâm part of a brotherhood now.â He gestured vaguely to the room they were in. âI was a bit hesitant at first given the reputation fraternities get but... Pi Kappa Alpha has an amazing alumni network. We also do good philanthropic work. Thatâs the bit of it I most enjoy. The lackluster habits and rowdy gatherings... I tolerate more than anything else. But itâs good to be around people who arenât like you. College is where the world gets more real isnât it? Iâve learned to adjust. Loosen the reins a little so to speak. Itâs... actually been quite nice actually.â
Finding it a bit strange to loiter in his own room, Damian sat himself on the edge of his bed. âWhat made you want to go on an exchange program?â A beat. And then, âWhat are you even taking anyway?â A question asked with a tilt of his head. He couldnât recall if Kat seemed particularly passionate about anything last he saw her. She did like plants. Showed an interest in House Captaincy. Was very knowledgeable on food and nutrition if he could remember correctly.
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Drea rolled her eyes at his response. But unlike previous eyerolls to some dumbass shit Damian had said, this time it seemed to be in good nature. Paired with a slight smile. Like, for once, she was charmed that Damian had counted with something stupid and Damian-like. Rather than just annoyed. She would, however, deny it. It was totally the boozeâs fault anyway. â You do you, then, I guess. â She said, giving up on trying to convince him otherwise. â Iâm sure none of your pledges will be complaining. â
Yeah, effortless. Drea didnât know shit about that. But she hummed a note of agreement, lips pursed together. Because yes, the theory was true, she just didnât enjoy her studies. Her eyes narrowed slightly, wondering if Damian was actually picturing her as a clinical psychologist in that moment and what that would look like to him. Sheâd hate to know. â No, not exactly. Iâm applying to law school next year. â Or that had always been the plan. Though sheâd looked at the application once and it had made her feel sick for 24 hours. â And you? What do you study again? Some sort of science, right? â She asked, unknowingly just as eager to move the topic to him as he was to keep it on her.Â
Well that ⌠threw a massive fucking wrench in her plan. She tried not to let the surprise show on her face, but she couldnât stop the slight raising of her brows as she lifted vape to her lips. She certainly didnât expect any follow up questions, more than ready to stand there in silence and hope that ended the conversation. She turned her head to exhale, making sure to blow the smoke far from Damian just in case it caused him to explode. â Um, â She started as she turned the vape to the side, reading the label on the green and pink stick. â Guava Raspberry. â She answered, deciding to take another puff while she had it out. She almost always picked flavours truly on impulse. Or if she had someone with her that recommended a flavour. It was all the same sweet flavoured shit most of the time. She blew the smoke to the side again before tucking it in beside her cup so she could comfortably cross her arms again.
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Was that... fondness that Damian detected? It wasnât the usual distaste or disapproval he seemed to get from her. He didnât think he was capable of that when it came to Andrea but he certainly wasnât going to question it. In fact, it brought something of a good feeling and he let it show with a careful smile on his face. âYes, they... donât seem to hate me terribly yet,â he offered with a soft chuckle.
âOh, law school?â Damian didnât mean to sound so impressed. It was just something he never expected of Andrea. Then again, he didnât know much of anything about her. Perhaps if he did know her a little better, that wouldnât have been such a surprise. âBiological sciences, yes. Iâll be attending med school upon graduation. The plan is Harvard, just like my father.â Hence the grievous amount of work Damian put into his studies these days. âWhat law school do you have your eye on?â Shifting the ball back in Andreaâs court. Just putting to mind just how much more of his life will be dedicated to following in his fatherâs path made him feel a bit queasy.Â
He could sense the suspicion radiating off Andrea in waves. He tried not to make a big deal of it and let Andrea enjoy her little puff in peace. âAh, guava raspberry... Interesting combination. I have to give it to vape industry, they do select some unique combinations.â Not two heâd put together if it were his choice. âI think in my time in this house I think Iâve smelled... Peace Ice? Blue Razz? Rainbow Skittle? Aloe Grape? Just... a myriad of things, really. Do you have to have a sweet tooth to enjoy those things? The scent comes off very sweet. I imagine it tastes much of the same.â Damian didnât enjoy candies or anything of that sort but he did relish in a dessert now again, especially with his sister. Though that probably had more to do with spending time with Eliza than enjoying what he was consuming. His mother always said processed sugar was never good for the body.
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âYep,â he was still questioning her while she stood directly in front of him and it stung. Her lips parted to speak, to tell him that it was alright, to assure him that he wasnât the biggest idiot who had ever been born and that his ignorance was just fine - but was it? The way her stomach had coiled with embarrassment said otherwise. âYes,â she said simply, making an effort not to crumble into immediate forgiveness. â I donât even go here,â she wasnât caving but she wasnât as steely as she had been a moment beforehand, allowing him somewhat of an excuse for his confusion. âIâm on exchange from my home school, like I live in Oslo, actually, so you wouldnât see me around, probably,â she didnât live in Oslo proper, she lived in a nearby town that Damian had almost definitely never heard of. When she wasnât studying, she lived even further away in a coastal town on the western coast. There, she lived with her cousinâs family, earning a humble income by working at a local wharf, renting sea kayaks and ferrying people to nearby islands.Â
When he offered the phone charger, her brow creased slightly with mild confusion, remedied only a moment later when he pointed out the life - or lack there of - the device had remaining. âYeah, actually, okay - do you have that?â she couldnât help but wonder if he actually knew where a charger was or where to find one if he didnât. At this point, she was fairly convinced he would have offered just about anything he could think of to make up for his faux pas. Perhaps she should have asked if he had the keys to a brand new car on offer.
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âOh, Oslo. How swell. Iâve been meaning to visit Norway for a while. Never quite got around to it, but thatâs great that youâre back in youâre... well, not hometown I suppose. But where your family is originally from. Must be very nice.â Damian pushed his mouth into a smile and gave a nod of his head, lips pressed together in a perfectly polite manner. Faux pas like that should have been impossible to come back from, but Kat has always been rather gracious with his shortcomings. He supposed some things didnât change and he was glad for it.
The confusion was expected. Damian wasnât surprised by that. âI do. I live in this fraternity actually. I have the charger just upstairs ââ He raised his pointer finger toward the ceiling. â â if youâd like to come along.â His body had already shifted in the direction of the stairs, lingering for a moment as he stared at Kat to see if sheâd be willing to follow him, before ultimately deciding to move along anyway. âHow long ago did you make the move? I imagine that would have been quite an adjustment from you, growing up here and all.â Small talk as they made their way up the staircase and he led her through the second floorâs corridor.
âMy roomâs just in here,â he revealed when he came to a halt in front of one of the doors. Retrieving a key from his shirtâs pocket, he went to unlock the door but then paused when he realized how strange it might have appeared that he had to unlock a door in a house he lived in with a key. He turned to look over his shoulder at Kat and explained. âI keep my door locked because these parties tend to get pretty rowdy. Iâm not to keen on having strangers copulate on my bed.â Or mess about with his belongings. With that out of the way, he twisted the key in the knob and entered his space, gesturing for Kat to follow in after him. âWelcome. The chargerâs on the bedside just there.â
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mossycobblestcnesâ:
brodie furrowed his eyebrows. he thought it was kinda weird when some guy loudly said the beer in his hands wasnât his. he thought it was even weirder that he was holding it in the same way politicians hold beer when they take photo ops in pubs to appeal to racist middle aged white blokes. but brodie wasnât in the mood to judge anyone for being a bit weird. he was busy trying to have fun and take full advantage of the free booze. âmate, itâs only nine. itâs way too early to tidy up.â brodie stopped to take a brief look around. there were a couple of empty red solo cups and beer bottles left abandoned but the house wasnât a complete mess yet. nobody had puked on floor or in a vase yet so brodie considered that a win. âyou should try to relax. go get a a drink or ask somebody to pass you their cone. or just enjoy the vibes if thatâs more you thing.â brodie wasnât going to judge somebody for being teetotal. not even some random guy with uptight vibes. he knew teetotalers who knew how to have a good time and could stay up until 6am completely sober and just enoying the vibes. he nudged damian then pointed at the beer.âdo you want me to down it so you can bin the bottle?â,brodie asked. he had a red solo cup ready in his other hand. he wasnât going to drink out of a random bottle. he had standards.
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Damian couldnât help but let out a soft laugh. âYou know, youâre practically the umpteenth person to tell me to relax tonight.â He sighed. Did these people have a point? Possibly, but Damian had a hard time seeing it. It wasnât like cleaning was a gruesome task for him. He actually quite enjoyed contributing to having a clean space. It made his mind feel... lighter. Some people used marijuana to settle their mind, Damian preferred the art of tidying up. âCone..?â He asked, unsure if he wanted to know what that meant. He figured with the otherâs accent, it was cultural jargon and not slang he wasnât familiar with. âThis?â Damian looked at the bottle and made a slight face at the otherâs offer to finish its contents. âOh no no no, thatâs fine. Iâll just empty its contents down the drain. I donât drink but I doubt warm leftover alcohol tastes any good.â He chuckled good-naturedly. âBesides, you already seem to have a drink.â He nodded toward the cup in otherâs hand. âYou enjoy that, Iâll deal with this. Iâm Damian by the way.â He lifted his vacant hand and stretched it out toward the unfamiliar face. âTake it youâre not from around here?â
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Damianâs absence actually did allow Katherine to cool off to some extent. It had been her intense when sheâd sent him on the errand but she hadnât been all that confident that it would work. She managed to catch her breath, settle the bile in her throat that caused her to spit venom at Damian with every word and felt less like she was going to cry as well. Did it really matter if he didnât remember her? If he didnât cherish the time theyâd spent clumsily slamming their hips against one another in the quiet corners of the campus? Things were different for Katherine now. She was independent. She had moved to another country where she had been forced to learn new ways of living and make new friends without her family, the church or a school uniform to make it easy for her. Sixteen year old Katherine had needed Damian to care about her so that she had a reason to care about herself. Today, Kat saw a future for herself. She was studying and doing surprisingly well, she had a job that she enjoyed where she was well liked and commended for her efforts, she had a good relationship with her parents and siblings and no longer endeavoured to be the center of their attention at all times. She was doing well. So what did it really matter if she crossed Damianâs vacuous mind from time to time?
Then he was back in sight again and God, he was still as handsome as ever. His eyes a piercing blue and the skin of his nose sun kissed and freckled. His hair perfectly tamed, as always and a smile any orthodontist would be proud to have procured. She couldnât help but wonder if heâd maintained the physique from his days as swimming captain and her eyes fell to his waist line before a beer appeared in front of them and the male spoke again.Â
âOkay, yeah, I will spell it then,â she was exhausted by his games, made evident by the snappy clipping of her voice as she gave into his request. She reached for a napkin but quickly realised that she would be hard pressed to find a pen - though knowing Damian, he probably always kept one on his person. Ten bucks said it was a Mont Blanc fountain pen, the same one of her professors usedâŚthough he was a seventy year something year old retired surgeon.
Instead, she unlocked her phone and used part of the last ten percent of her battery to type out her name Katherine Josephine Bishop-Baarstad. âHello?â she held the screen to his face, believing that she was pointing out the obvious. If her full legal(ish) name didnât mean anything to him either, she would be on the first flight out to Gardermoen, just watch her. She was certain (hopeful?) that her name would ring enough of a bell with Damian to snap him out of his frat boy fugue state but the chance that it wouldnât made her anxious and so the snippy tone made an appearance once more  â-and do you want my passport also? My social security number maybe?âÂ
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Immense relief was what Damian felt when the blonde before him agreed to spell out her name. Finally, he thought. They could settle this conundrum once and for all. It was a few moments later when her phone was being held up to his face and he was reading a name he hadnât thought of properly in some years.
âKat?â
His eyes grew wide almost comically at the realization that heâd been talking to a former something this entire time. Sounding as obtuse as they come given what childishness they were going back and forth on. My God, he was so embarrassed. He didnât even know what to say!
It was then he took in her features with more scrutiny this time. It was Kat. Sure, with longer hair, but still Kat all the same. âIâm... Iâm so sorry.â Apologetic for something else entirely now. In fact, he was flustered with how frightfully ashamed he felt for not recognizing her. He did to some degree but wrote it off as a similarity. âI just never expected to see you here. We lost contact and I just didnât think our paths would ever...â He trailed off. âIâm sorry. Really, I am. I feel... impossibly stupid right now.â He pushed out a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck in an effort to soothe the heat crawling up the sides of his face.
What did you say to someone you never expected to see again?
âHow... how are you? Iâd offer to get you a drink but it appears Iâve just done that. Do you maybe want a charger instead?â He asked, lifting a finger to point out the 10% battery her phone was on.
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â But you could just, I donât know, enjoy yourself instead? â Yeah, one reference that Damian would approve of and she was done. Drea was swiftly back to saying what she thought. As determined as Damian might be there was just no way his efforts alone could make any sort of meaningful impact on the mess Drea anticipated for the night. So why bother. And why bother in the morning when you could just get freshmen to do it. She didnât get it. Sorority and fulfilling werenât exactly two words Drea would put together. Not even with the accoutrement of âoddlyâ. â In a way, yeah. â Was what she said with an assuring nod, deviating from saying what she thought as quickly as she had returned to it. She tried not to but she did still often flip like that. Her reasons for rushing sororities in freshman year were complex. Or they were simple but she didnât want to explain them. And not to Damian, of all fucking people. So yeah, sure, Damian, it was super fucking fulfilling. She hummed an acknowledging note, just with his brothers. Definitely wouldnât be sharing that with Kat. And then another one as he continued. Another thing she could not relate to. Certainly, she was a committed student. She always had been, finding it almost second nature to balance school and partying and socialising. But she didnât feel any draw to books and rules, she did it because she had to. She longed for the freedom of leaving it behind. â I guess that can be a good thing, if you like your major and all, â And she didnât think Damian was the sort to say if he had made a mistake in selecting his. Communications? The fuck? â Psychology. â She answered, a little bluntly. She didnât like it, she didnât want to talk about, she definitely didnât want to know where the fuck heâd gotten communications from. She reached into her pocket instead, pulling out vape sheâd stopped herself from hitting just a couple minutes ago. â Do you mind if I âŚ? â She asked, any other frat brother and she wouldnât ask, but a part of her hoped this would give her reason to excuse herself. It would be ditching the person in the bathroom she was waiting for, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
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"I find keeping my surroundings clean quite enjoyable,â Damian offered as a counter point, pairing his words with a slight lift of his shoulder. It was what he was taught at a young age. Mother would gaze upon his room fondly whenever it was tidy. It certainly helped Maria with her duties as well. Besides, it was just shameful to have his space be so messy once his age reached double digits. Ten years old? He was a grown boy by then, certainly more than capable of returning his belongings to their rightful place and keeping things in ship-shape.
With a nod of his head, Damian agreed. âYes. Passion certainly makes things... easier. Effortless, really.â Slight overcompensation on his part? Possibly. But he pushed past it, eager to keep the focus on Andreaâs major instead. âPsychology. Right. My mistake. Are you looking to get into the clinical field with that? Become a licensed psychologist or something of that sort?â
Seeing Andrea produce a vape from her pocket, Damianâs brows lifted slightly before he shook his head and gestured for her to continue. âOh, not at all. Please, enjoy yourself.â Did he disapprove of those harmful death sticks? Yes, of course. Anyone in their right mind would. But time away from home has taught him to become more tolerant of the ways of the world. As long as he held onto his values, what others did were of no matter to him. Besides, it wasnât like his brothers were innocent either. A fair share of them indulged in electronic cigarettes. More than a few smoked marijuana. Damian had learned to exist in the same space as substance users since it seemed impossible to escape with everyone being a fan of one thing or another. âWhat, um, flavor is it? These things have flavors donât they?â See? He even knew how to make vape small talk. Heâs loosened up since their high school days; he hoped Andrea would see that.
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âIf what is my name?â Kat wondered how it was more difficult for Damian to remember that they had gone to school together than to have a conversation resulting in one or more parties suffering an aneurysm. âIâm not upset,
When more questions followed, Kat had to wonder if Damian had always been this insufferably obtuse or whether this was a trait he had recently developed as a result of being embedded in fraternity culture. She could feel her blood pressure rising and hot in her ears and though he was committed to profusely apologising for it, he didnât seem to have the slightest clue what it was he was apologising for. She wasnât sure that she even knew at this point.Â
âMy name is okay, yes. Itâs fine, okay? Not that you even know it, so I donât know why youâre asking- can you get me another beer maybe?â she insisted.Â
She did genuinely want another beer or six but more than that she some breathing room before she had a complete emotional melt down or Damianâs head combusted and stained her new jeans, whichever came first. If she didnât know that Damian was physically incapable of off-the-cuff humor, let alone that of the prankster variety, she would think that this was all a ruse, a gotcha, though it was more cruel than it was comedic in her opinion. Was he making fun of her accent? The way she spoke? What was his fuckinâ problem?
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âIf Okay is your name.â Frustration was beginning to bubble within him. It was as if Damian was speaking another language and this person just couldnât understand him. If she was indeed foreign, that was probably the case after all. But golly, who knew making an introduction could be so difficult? Practice patience, practice patience, practice patience, he reminded himself in his head. She was claiming not to be upset but anyone with working eyes could see that she was.
Her name is Okay..? Or Finokay? Was Finokay the full form of her name? Damianâs mouth fell open and shut a few times, looking much like a fish as he tried to comprehend what was just shared with him. He had to speak up about his confusion and make it plain now. It was beyond insanity that this has grown so difficult. But before he could, she cut off his train of thought by requesting another beer and considering how he had clearly offended her just now, he felt obligated to without complaint. âRight. Of course. Give me a moment.âÂ
Giving a slight bow of his head, Damian left the space to retrieve a fresh beverage for... Okay. Finokay. Whatever her name was. He made sure to find a bottle that was nice and cold as well, resting at the bottom of the cooler beneath partially melted ice cubes. After removing the bottle cap with an opener, he made his way to Okay again, thankful that she hadnât seemed to run off in her frustration with his confusion over her name. âHere you are. Nice and cold.â He held the bottle toward her. âThis might be an odd request but could you spell your name for me? Iâm just â I really want to get this right and have things flowing as smoothly as possible moving forward.â
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âNo,â she said bluntly, wishing now that she had kept the two-fingers worth of warm beer in the bottom of her discarded bottle so that she would have something to wash the bitter taste of rejection out of her mouth with. His lack of commitment to saying that he remembered Katherine fondly only deepened the wound.Â
âIf what is okay?â she asked, a little venomously, painfully frustrated by the situation and how very, very wrong her various fantasies about this exact reunion had been. If erasing her existence from his consciousness was the behaviour in question then no, she would assert, it was not okay, it was fucked. If Damian was querying something else, however, it was lost on Kat. Maybe Dreaâs wisdom about American boys being a bunch of dopes had been more valuable that Kat had given her credit for. Damian was certainly proving the other girlâs theory on time-wasting frat bros with this encounter.
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No. Straight-forward and without the quiver of a doubt laced in it. This woman definitely had Russian roots. If Damian was a betting man, heâd put money on it. âOh. Well, I guess... just me then.â He pushed out an awkward chuckle, hoping to diffuse the tension that was swiftly growing out of hand between himself and this stranger.
âIf thatâs your name..? Sorry, I didnât meant to upset you. Iâm justâ this conversation has become impossibly more complicated than I ever expected it to be.â Damian certainly felt like heâd committed some cultural faux pas. Wherever this young lady was from, he clearly would not succeed at basic introductions. âYour name is Okay, isnât it? Am I pronouncing it wrong? I truly apologize if Iâve offended you.â He put a hand to his chest to emphasize just how much he meant that. It seemed his time vacationing in Europe in his younger years did nothing to prepare him for this. âMaybe if you tell me how to spell your name, perhaps I could sound it out better.â
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benmartosâ:
open starter: <3 when: early afternoon, day leading up to the Event where:Â library
Ben had his own laptop, but it came equipped with a fuck-ton of distractions. By twenty, heâd learned which ones he shouldnât have within reaching distance. Including, but not limited to, MTG Arena. But he was about halfway through a entry for his class-assigned blog (God help him), when something funky went down. He hit the A-button, eyes on the screen, and nothing came up. No A. He tried again with another letter, the P-button, and got the same result. He pressed it again, many times in succession. Nothing. Growing annoyed, he pressed all ten fingers down on the keyboard, three times in a row, to no avail. The cursor on the screen blinked mockingly at him, refusing to regurgitate what he wanted to put down. Of course this would happen right when he finally got into the flow of things. His leg bounced under the table.
Ben turned to the person working at a computer nearby. âHey,â he started, his voice at a normal volume. He quickly remembered where he was, and then adjusted. âHey,â he repeated, this time in a half-hushed tone. âYou know anything about fixing small-time computer issues?â He pressed down on the spacebar a couple times. âKeyboardâs given up the ghost.â
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Damian was deep into his paper on Epigenetics when he heard Ben whisper beside him. His eyes only shifted away from his laptopâs screen when his former roommate mentioned something about ghosts. âGhosts?â Damian wasnât superstitious by any means. He wrote down paranormal encounters to mental illness and an overactive imagination. But given the rich history of the boarding school heâd attended in his teenage years, he did carry some... concern about any mention of such things.Â
Hearing the tap, tap, tap of Benâs spacebar, Damian finally looked over. His device seemingly malfunctioned to some degree. He reached over himself to press on one of the letters on Benâs keyboard. Then another. And another. And another. No letter seemed to appear on his screen despite the poking and prodding. âHmm.â Strange indeed. He thought for a moment before speaking. âNot that Iâm a computer savant by any means but have you tried turning it off and on yet? I believe that works 9 out of 10 times when thereâs a tech issue.â
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esscxboundâ:
The warmth her gaze had held just moments before was doused with all the grace of a sparkler being stamped out by a steel-capped boot when Damian informed her that she resembled a clearly withered memory of his . Ouch.Â
âIs that true?â she offered plainly, a little distantly, almost as if the upward inflection of her voice was habitual and she didnât actually want an answer of any sort. Certainly, their conversations hadnât ever been all that poetic, if meaningful at all but this one had really smashed the record for most pitiful. âHopefully someone you think fondly of,â she added, bitterly as she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, preparing for a swift departure before his hand came jutting toward her. God. She had no hope of disappearing and avoiding him for the rest of her life now, he actually expected an introduction.Â
âOkay,â she accepted his handshake with all the tenderness of an icicle. Sure, she had matured somewhat, her hair was much longer and perhaps her accent had been warped by her return to Minnesota and more so by her time in Oslo but was she truly that forgettable? The thought wrapped her insides in barbed wire and pulled tight as their hands fit together. âI have somewhere to be, actually,â she announced dismissively by way of excusive herself. It wasnât even untrue, in fact, she sort of did have somewhere to be while the last few remaining shreds of her self confidence were in tact - she was now committed to finding a bottle of red wine she could chug in record time and anybody of any sort who could make her feel less like the most unremarkable person who was ever born.Â
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Is that true? Damian made a face at her question, unsure if he was expected to answer it or not. Well, he wouldnât say it if it wasnât... He stared at the blonde before him strangely. It was probably all too easy to read the confusion on his face â all creased forehead and slanted brows. For the sake of carrying the conversation away from awkward waters, he responded. âSure, Iâd say thereâs fondness. It was... just a bit of a complicated situation is all. A lot of nuance to... remembering. You know how it is, right?â As if all strangers heâd encountered had a past... something that shook them to their core back in boarding school.
âOkay...?â Now it was Damianâs turn to have his tone curl upward. He couldnât tell if that was supposed to be this womanâs name or not. Quite... exotic for a name. Was she foreign? She did seem a little foreign. Would explain the accent he detected. And the lack of warmth when they shook hands. (Russian? Possibly?) His brows shot upward when she announced she had somewhere to be. âHold on, I didnât get your name,â he cut in before she could go anywhere. âIf itâs Okay, Iâm very sorry. Itâs just not a name thatâs familiar to me.â How painfully American of him.
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esscxboundâ:
If anybody below a solid six and a half had dared to pick up the mostly empty beer that Katherine had abandoned and had definitely forgotten about the moment somebody waved a watermelon vape in her general direction, it could have been enough to throw Kat into a shrieking fit at them. Fortunately for Damian, however, Kat had always thought of him as well above a solid six and he earned bonus points for being sufficiently taller than her and ripped as well.
Unfortunately, for Damian, however, Katherine hadnât expected to ever see him again, after he had gradated from boarding school a year ahead of her. She was borderline incoherent at the best of times - one of the many reasons she leaned into other students assuming she was a foreign exchange student simply because she had come from a foreign university on exchange - but caught off guard like this and with perhaps more than just the nearly empty bottle of beer in her belly, she was pretty much useless.Â
âYeah, actually, itâs mine,âÂ
 â- but Iâll get another one, soâ â trailed as if there was more left to say but if the pointlessness of the rest of the statement hadnât already made it quite clear: she didnât have anything of value to offer. Instead, she was focused on his gaze, desperate to know that he recognised her and that if he did, he gave even the slightest shit about seeing her again.Â
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âOh.â Damian glanced down at the bottle momentarily. A brief second passed where he considered handing the empty bottle back to her despite how unappealing drinking the remaining contents seemed. Thankfully, the blonde shared she planned to get another anyway. He shifted his gaze back upward and flashed a smile at her then. âWell, Iâd imagine that one would taste much better than this,â he offered with a chuckle â slightly forced, out of politeness more than anything â before holding the bottle behind himself. It was then that he took proper notice of the woman before him. Blonde, tall, quite charming aesthetically. Had he seen her before? There was something familiar about her. âYou remind me of someone I used to know,â he revealed then. Something akin to nostalgia, maybe a bit of tenderness, swirled about in his chest then. He quickly brushed it aside knowing it was childish however. âMaybe you just have one of those faces...â He reasoned with himself before stepping toward her and holding out his hand to introduce himself. âIâm Damian.â
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ohsercndipityâ:
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Drea tried to keep her judgement from her face, to be polite, but a small crease between her brows still formed. The worst thing about Damian was that he said the most straight forward things in the most ridiculous way. If there was ever talk like a regular person challenge heâd lose immediately. He wouldnât even be able to open his mouth, she thought. â Sure, but itâs kinda more like Sisyphus and the boulder, no? â See, Drea could make references too. And she didnât sound 80 years old when she did it. â Seems kinda pointless to try and get ahead of a task that will always be there tomorrow. â And she didnât imagine Damian had successfully roped many others into his task. So by the stakes of Damian vs everyone else that was already here and would arrive later, it was extra pointless. At his response to her question, stating that it wasnât within his capabilities, she gave a small huff of a laugh. And exhale through her nose, looking down to her cup for a moment before taking a small sip. So maybe he wasnât as righteous as the caricature Drea had in her head. Didnât make it not funny to her, however. â Yeah, good. Fine. â She said, amicably with quick smile. Polite, though vapid. To say she was tired of parties would be a stretch, but she was certainly tired of parties that all felt the same and nothing new happened. â Benâs coming later, heâs still doing some unpacking and stuff. I just came with some friends. Sorority sisters, you know, â She explained easily. She was jealous that Ben was arriving later, even if she was one drink away from sending him annoying texts that she missed him. â What about you? Here with anyone? â
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âSisyphus.â Damian echoed the name of the character with a fondness. Not because he held any attachment to the story personally, but because it surprised him that Andrea thought to bring it up. Not what he expected from her. Then again, after all these years of very casually knowing her, they never quite got to know each other. âWell, yes...â Damian agreed with a tilt of his head to one side. âBut there will be less of a task to undertake tomorrow if we begin some of the cleaning tonight is the point Iâm trying to make.â Not uncommon for Damian, an air of rightness radiated from his words. Old habits died hard. He may not have worn a shiny pin on his lapel but he was still rather helpless against wanting his word to be supreme. âStill unpacking? Ah, Benjamin.â He clicked his tongue fondly. See? Old habits did die hard. âRight, your sisters. How are you liking sorority life? Oddly... fulfilling isnât it?â At least thatâs how Damian felt about his brotherhood even if there was more drunkenness and tomfoolery he expected to deal with. Getting rowdy was the way of the Modern Age. Even Damian couldnât fight that, so heâd learned to âroll with itâ as people his age liked to say. âMe? Oh no, just myself. And well, my brothers I suppose.â Fraternity brothers, but brothers all the same to Damian. âYouâd think without all of the rules, thereâd suddenly be more freedom, but I find myself still just as committed to the books and the classroom than I was before. Probably even more so sometimes.â Regrettably, a quiet voice in his head thought. But he quickly shushed it. âWhat is it you take again? Communications... or?â He couldnât recall a single true thing about Andrea other than the sour looks she used to give him back in high school. He was clueless in knowing what she held a passion for.
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ohsercndipityâ:
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Leaning against wall as she waited on a friend to return from the bathroom, Dreaâs eyes flicked over as she heard a voice. Some people just ⌠said things, huh. â Right. â Was the response she came up with first. Conveying an energy of âwho asked?â without having to say it. In moments of awkwardness at a party, Drea tended to instinctively reach for her vape. But in this one she kept it in her pocket and instead drummed fingers against the red cup in her hand. She got the feeling that this wasnât the right crowd to vape inside. â Isnât that sort of what the day after a party is for? â She asked, tone somewhat good natured though only enough to excuse the judgement also in her tone. It was also what pledges were for, sheâd had to do it for her sorority and she didnât think Pi Kappa Alpha was gonna get rid of that tradition just yet. But sheâd start with the obvious. Speaking of obvious, she raised a brow. â No. â She stated, raising her cup only slightly a beat later. â Are you planning on tracking down who it was? â Anyone else and that would have been a joke, but to be honest, she could imagine Damian turning off the music to have people stand trial for littering.
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âWell... yes, I suppose. But thereâll be less to clean tomorrow if we make an effort to keep things tidy tonight. Wasnât it H. Jackson Brown that said âthe best preparation for tomorrow is doing your best todayâ?â He paired the quote with a amiable half smile. It was the attitude his parents taught him to have about things. Start early. Be prepared. Donât waste time being idle and lazy when you could otherwise be productive. Besides, Damian had things to do tomorrow. An early morning jog. Swim practice. A study session slash coffee meet-up with a fellow Biological Sciences major. Seeing Andrea lift her cup faintly, Damianâs mouth fell open in acknowledgement before nodding his head and pressing forth. Track down who it was? âEr... no.â He made a slight face against his wishes. Did she think he was Sherlock Holmes or something? âI donât think thatâs within my capabilities,â Damian admitted. It would have been nice if it was. But it wasnât. Unfortunately. âAnyway, itâs not an issue. I have the bottle. I can get rid of it.â Further issue neednât be taken and get in the way of the eveningâs festivities. âHowâs your night? Are you here with a friend... or Ben?â
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WHERE: A party at Pi Kappa Alpha WHEN: Night time?? 9ish OPEN TO ALL
âThis isnât mine,â Damian announced. Between his fingers was an empty beer bottle that he was holding onto awkwardly. âIâm just trying to stay on top of the mess,â he went on to further clarify. Pi Kappa Alpha was no stranger to hosting parties. Damian was no stranger to being inconvenienced by them. Loud noise, littering, general tomfoolery... Youâd think heâd have gotten used to it by now. At times, he deluded himself into thinking he had grown accustomed to it as well. But as the night went on and the general disarray started to pile up, the inevitable unease would crawl up Damianâs spine and settle uncomfortably over his shoulders. âThis wasnât yours, was it? Hardly anything in it.â He shook the bottle. There was barely half an inch of liquid in it.
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đ¤ - Whatâs something theyâll never understand?
How to treat people like actual people................. I'm kidding slkdjf. Probably struggle though, or how people outside of His Worldâ˘ď¸ lives. I don't think Damian will ever actually grasp that regardless of how many situations he puts himself in to simulate the feeling. His life has simply been very comfortable from the get-go that even if he volunteers or goes off on mission trips, it doesn't occur to him that he's willingly putting himself in these situations, but other people have no choice but to live that way. Like the concept of not being able to afford something has never occurred to this man. It's ridonk.
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ravxensâ:
open. where: pi kappa alpha when: frat party
liam loved a good party. hell, good american banger was half the reason he came all this way in the first place. the irish could drink, but he was craving a change of scenery. that, and he was already banned from half the joints in dublin. â as one should, liam arrived to the party both late and drunk and was instantly fascinated by the degeneracy of it all. this was his people. stupid and out of their mind. he didnât really know what to do with himself so he went upstairs past the luckier bastards already half-fuckinâ on the stairs and entered a room that seemed interesting and smelt of feet and bad decisions. he started digging through this persons shit like he was at good will, mixing and matching. âoi â â he stopped a random passerby, tripping in his step. âwhat are we thinkin? t-the red varsity jacket or â the green fluffy thing?âÂ
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Oi? How rude. Damianâs face twisted into a frown as he slowed to a stop in front of... some guy. A scoff fell from parted lips when he recognized the articles of clothing in the drunkardâs hands. âExcuse me, those arenât your things.â With distaste on his features, he took them from the party attendee. These were Williamâs things. Obnoxious as his fashion choices were, Damian didnât want some stranger messing about with his frat brotherâs belongings. See, he knew this would happen. Every year a party was hosted, intoxicated hooligans found themselves audaciously comfortable in rooms that werenât theirs. It was why Damian had locked the door to his room for the evening â the key safely tucked into his jacket pocket. âYou have no business touching these.â He held up the clothes. âMuch less asking people for their preferences between them.â He tossed the clothes onto Williamâs bed and grabbed the knob of his room to pull it shut. He didnât want anyone else to go rummaging about with his things. âWhy donât you go entertain yourself with something else? Guzzle more alcohol perhaps. Youâre clearly halfway to achieving a mild poisoning.â
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