#he emailed my academic advisor!!!! what is that supposed to mean he thinks i can’t do it

[arthur-r]

all my fucking teachers are pitying me though???? like oh my fucking god i thought i wasn’t going to be that person anymore?? are you telling me that mental illness and physical illness and access concerns and low energy and motivation don’t go away when you move four hours away from home????

[atlafan]

a/n: Hello! My lovely patrons said it was alright to post the first part of my new miniseries here. I hope you enjoy this because it’s a fun story. If you’d like to see what happens next, subscribe to my patreon! 

Warnings: angst and fluff, misunderstandings, some smoking of weed (THIS IS A SLOW BURN)

Words: 9.9K

Summary: Harry is 25, and decides to go to graduate school. He's in a film studies program, and becomes a GA for Dr. Casey Robertson, who he assumes is a man. When he goes to Casey's office for their first meeting, he realizes that Dr. Robertson is a woman. The two get along great as the semester progresses, and Harry starts to form a little crush on Casey. There's just one problem...she's engaged.

Harry thought he’d have his life together by now. His whole life he was told if he went to college, he’d be guaranteed a good job and a lasting career. He soon learned, however, that things wouldn’t be that simple. All he wanted to do was watch movies, and review them. He tried making a YouTube channel where he’d review the films he watched, but the videos didn’t get many views, and the few comments he’d get were pretty lewd.

He was sick of working at a grocery store during the day, and a bar at night. He barely had the time to do the things he liked, and he just wasn’t happy. So, he did what any other depressed twenty-five-year-old would do: he applied to graduate school. It made his parents happy since it would give him a break from having to pay off his student loans, and help him find some direction. Harry was able to secure a decent enough GA position that would pay him enough that he wouldn’t need to worry about a job, and he was able to find an apartment with some other graduate students.

So, there he was, enrolled into a Film Studies program, and he’d be a GA for the Writing, Literature, and Publishing undergraduate program. He wouldn’t be teaching or anything, but he would be helping out with a lot of grading and course design. He’d need to have office hours available, and be willing to work with students that have questions.

His roommates were nice enough. Two of them were in biology programs, and another was in art and animation program. Everyone had their own room, and they all had to share a bathroom, but it was okay. They were all adults, and all agreed on chores and how to keep things clean. The four all went out for drinks the first weekend they all moved in to get to know each other better. Harry could really see himself being friends with these people.

He was a little nervous about being a GA. He had to do a good job this semester in order to keep his grant money. It had been a while since he had been in a classroom, so he wasn’t sure how he’d do juggling his own classes and schoolwork along with helping a professor grade for their various courses. Luckily, a good chunk of Harry’s classes would be online, and he only needed to go to one in-person lecture. He got an email from the admin of the Writing and Literature department about meeting with a Dr. Robertson a week before classes start. This was the professor he’d be working with.

He wasn’t given a ton of information on what he needed, so he put his laptop in his backpack, threw on a pair of jeans and a nice button up, and headed out the door. He rolled up his sleeves and the ends of his jeans since it was a little hot out. His glasses were on, and his hair was still a little wet from his shower, but other than that he was feeling pretty confident in his look. He wanted to make a good first impression since he’d be working with this professor all year and not just the fall semester. Harry wondered what type of office he’d be given. He was hoping it would at least have a window, but he’d be grateful for whatever private area he’d be given. He was essentially being given a place to write and he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

As he enters the building, he realizes he has no idea where he’s going. He finds the directory, and sees that Dr. Robertson’s office is up on the second floor. He makes his way up, and takes a deep breath before heading down the hall to their office. As he approaches, he sees a woman with wild, wavy hair up in a high ponytail wearing black, high waist leggings, a slightly cropped tank top and sports bra combo, and was mumbling to herself as she rummaged through her bookshelves.

“Um, excuse me…” Harry speaks up.

“Oh!” The woman jumps. She sets her book down and pushes her glasses back up her nose. “You must be Harry, please, come in.” She waves him in.

“Are you Dr. Robertson?”

“I am.” She nods and extends her hand out for him to shake. “Have a seat.” Harry sits down in one of the chairs across from her desk. “You look a little confused.”

“It just doesn’t look like you were, um, expecting anyone…”

“I know, my office is a total disaster. I’m normally okay with organized chaos, but right now it’s just straight up chaos.” She chuckles. She notices Harry’s eyes drift to her cleavage for a moment. “I didn’t dress up for this since I knew I’d be cleaning things up around here, I apologize.”

“No! Uh, no need. I…I’m sorry, I thought you were a man…”

“Casey is a woman’s name.” She blinks.

“It’s also a man’s.” Harry runs a hand through his hair.

“Is it going to be a problem that I’m a woman?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“No, of course not. I guess I was just picturing some older guy with a dark office and a bottle of whiskey in the corner that he sips on out of crystal.” He chuckles nervously.

“Ah, well, you know what they say about people who assume.” She smirks.

“I’m not making a very good first impression, am I.” It wasn’t a question.

“That depends.” She leans back in her chair.

“On?”

“What your favorite movie is.” She grins. “As long as it’s not The Wolf of Wallstreet you’ll be fine.”

“I mean, it’s not, but I don’t mind that movie. I thought Leo’s performance was good.” Harry shrugs.

“It definitely was, but I don’t think it needed to be three hours long, nor did I need full frontal of Margot Robbie’s vagina, but that’s besides the point. What’s your favorite movie?”

“This is going to sound cliché, but…it’s Citizen Kane.”

“Is that your favorite because it truly is, or is it your favorite because someone told you it should be?”

“No, it’s genuinely my favorite. I’m a big fan of Orson Welles, I think the film was extremely innovative at the time, it still is by today’s standards. And I love how it was blatant commentary on the harms of yellow journalism. It’s cool to think back on how much trouble Welles had with the distribution for it too.” Harry realizes how excited he’s getting, and clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“Never apologize for the things you’re passionate about.”

“What, uh, what’s your favorite movie?”

“The Wedding Singer.” She smiles.

“Isn’t that an Adam Sandler movie?”

“It sure is.” She says proudly. “Look, I can admit that some of his movies aren’t great. However, I’ve written a ton of academic pieces on The Wedding Singer.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, during a time of uncertainty with AIDS there was LGBTQ representation. The actor that played George ended up coming out as transgender, and lived out her days proudly as a woman. Not to mention that Adam Sandler doesn’t use being gay as a punchline, like, ever. There’re always people of color represented in his films as well. And on a personal note, as a Jewish woman, it was always nice seeing that his characters were Jewish. That type of representation was really important to me as a kid.”

“Wow, I guess I never really thought about that.”

“Well, that’s why I have a PhD and you’re going for your master’s.” She smirks. “Teasing.” She pulls some papers out of her desk. “Okay, so this fall I’m teaching Advanced Screenwriting, Analyzing Screen Media, and two sections of freshman Composition. I’ll need you physically there during the composition classes since those will be the ones I’m going to be having you grading the work for. I’m all for helping first year students learn the basics, but I just don’t have the strength to grade their papers this year. Plus, it’ll be good for you to learn how to properly grade an array of work.”

“All that sounds good…you won’t need help with your other classes?”

“Maybe next semester. I teach a scriptwriting class in the spring, along with some other writing courses. You’re going to be taking some pretty high-level stuff this semester, I don’t want you getting overwhelmed.”

“You know what classes I’m taking?”

“Of course I do. I’d be stupid not to look into the person I’m going to be working with. Even though I’m not your graduate advisor, I hope you know I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need. Are you coming right from undergrad, or did you take some time off?”

“It’s been a few years since I’ve been in school. I’m twenty-five.”

“Sometimes it’s good to take some time off, figure out what you want to focus on. What exactly are you hoping to get out of a graduate film program?”

“I want to write high-level film reviews. I was hoping to make a video series, but it’s really tough to build a base on YouTube. I got discouraged.”

“If you ever want me to watch what you have out there already, I’d be more than happy to.”

“Sure, that’d be great. So, uh, where will my office be?”

“Oh, honey, did you think you were getting your own office?” She can’t help but giggle. “We’re not in the science building, GA’s don’t get their own offices over here.”

“How will students meet with me if they have questions?”

“They won’t need to meet with you, you’re not teaching.”

“But I’ll be grading, what if a student wants to question me on a grade?”

“Then they can come to me.” She shrugs.

“Dr. Robertson, where am I supposed to get my own work done?”

“Mi oficina es tu oficina.” She smiles. “You can work in here any time you like. I actually have a key for you.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a key. “Here you go, don’t lose that.”

“What if you’re meeting with a student?”

“As you can see, we have a lovely lounge at the end of the hall, you can go there and set up shop if you need to. You’re a GA, Mr. Styles, pay your dues. Now, here are my syllabi, and you should have gotten an email stating that you’ve been given access to all my courses. There are rubrics for all of the assignments as well, as long as you follow those you should have no problem grading.”

“Alright.” Harry takes the different sheets of paper from her, catching sight of the ring on her finger. “Are you married?” He wasn’t quite sure why he asked, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hm? Oh, no.” She laughs. “Just engaged.” She extends her hand to look down at her ring. “Been engaged for over a year, we can’t seem to decide on a date. My fiancé is a lawyer, and a highly sought after one at that.”

“Why not just pick a random day to go to a courthouse?”

“Well, we both have big families, and we don’t want to disappoint any of them.” She sighs. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out at some point. Neither of us are really in a rush. We’ve been together five years, it’ll happen when it happens.” She studies Harry for a moment. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have anyone special?”

“Oh!” Harry’s cheeks redden. “Um, no…nothing serious, anyways.”

“Maybe you’ll meet someone here. You should go to the GA meetings, meet others doing what you’re doing.”

“I’m living with three other GA’s, we’re getting along pretty well so far. But I’ll definitely check out when those meetings are.”

“Good.” She smiles.

“May I ask how old you are? You seem so accomplished, I mean…look at all of the degrees and certificates you have.” Harry motions to the various frames on the walls.

“Some of those are just recognition certificates. I’m twenty-eight. I did a 4+1 program to get my master’s so I could zip right along into a PhD program. I was lucky enough that I was hired on full-time after getting it. The department really values me.”

“That’s awesome.” Harry smiles. “Anything else you’d like me to know about your classes?”

“Not at the moment. Would you be comfortable giving me your cell number? Anything I can do to have less emails, you know?”

“I don’t mind.” Harry smiles again and takes out his phone, handing it to her.

“Thanks, it’ll be much easier to tell you if something changes last minute this way.” She texts herself before handing him back his phone.

“Your fiancé won’t mind you texting me?” Harry asks playfully, warming up to her a bit more.

“No, why would he? We’re not one of those couples who reads each other’s texts. My phone is my property just as his phone is his property. We trust each other.” She rests her elbows on her desk, putting even more of her cleavage on display for him without realizing it. “Besides that, I’m not trying to start an affair with my GA who should be very careful about flirting with me so that he doesn’t end up on some very thin ice.”

“I…I…I wasn’t-“

“You were being cheeky with me.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a smug smile sets on her lips. “I like to tease, Mr. Styles, you can relax your shoulders now.”

“I think it’s going to take me some time to get used to your sense of humor.” Harry says with a relaxed sigh.

“Well, you’re stuck with me for an entire year, so you’ve got plenty of time to figure me out. Now, if you don’t have any other questions, you can go on and enjoy the rest of your day.” She stands back up. “I need to continue organizing my books, and the rest of this mess.” Harry nods and stands up.

“It was nice to meet you. You know you can just call me Harry, right?”

“Sure.” She smiles. “I prefer to be called Dr. Robertson in the classroom, when we’re not in there you can just call me Casey.”

“Okay.” Harry smiles.

“Oh, wait! Are you free the day before classes start? I was hoping to take you to lunch as a sort of good luck thing.”

“I can definitely do lunch the day before classes start.”

As Harry walks back to his apartment, he can’t help but think about how cool Casey is. She’s a bit frazzled, yes, but she seems like someone Harry will be able to easily work with. At least he wouldn’t have to kiss the ass of some stuffy old professor. Casey’s ass is one Harry wouldn’t mind kissing, but she had a fiancé to take care of that for her. He had to admit, Casey was insanely attractive, but he’d politely just admire her from afar and respect that she was very much a taken woman. Besides that, it would be incredibly inappropriate to even try to start something up with the professor he was GA’ing for. No, he’d keep things professional. He wasn’t even looking for someone to be with right now anyways. If he felt the need to hook up with someone, he could either head down to the bars or download Tinder.

//

“Alright, if we could settle down and get started!” Casey shouts over the buzz of students talking in her first section of composition. “My name is Dr. Robertson, and that is what I’d prefer to be called. My pronouns are she/her. I encourage you all to be vocal about how you’d like to be addressed just the same. This is Mr. Styles, you may call him Harry. He’s going to be grading all of your work this semester, so you can send any and all excuses his way.” Casey grins and sits down on top of the desk at the front of the room. “Now, I’d like us all to go around the room and say your name, where you’re from, and what TV show you binged over the summer. I know for me, I rewatched Boy Meets World for the millionth time, and it was still just as good.”

Harry was impressed. Most of the time students hated ice breakers, but this was a pretty engaging one. Once the class of twenty-five is through, Casey goes over their course page in Canvas and the syllabus.

“Now, this specific course of composition has a topic, so we’re going to be writing about television this semester. If you don’t think you can write about that, then you may want to find another section of composition to take. I will say, we’re going to have a lot of fun in this class. We’re going to watch some interesting shows, and you may find that you’re ‘to watch’ list will have grown exponentially by the end of the semester.”

Casey asks if anyone has any questions, and a few do which causes some lively class discussion for the remainder of the period. She lets them go about fifteen minutes early. Harry walks over to her as she unplugs her laptop from the monitor on the lectern.

“Seems like the majority of them are going to enjoy the content for this class.” Harry tells her, but all she does is hum her response as she looks down at her phone. She sighs heavily before putting her phone in her pocket. “Everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just figuring out what Daniel and I are going to have for dinner, nothing serious.” She waves him off as she slings her bag over her shoulder. “How are your classes going so far?” She asks as they walk out of the room and head towards her office.

“Pretty good, I don’t think anything is going to be too difficult for me. I have to watch a lot of movies, but I was expecting that.” Harry shrugs.

Once they’re in her office, Casey sits down at her desk, and Harry makes himself comfortable on her couch. This is the routine they had started since she took him for lunch a few days ago. They worked in a comfortable silence together, occasionally taking breaks to chat. Casey was happy she got assigned a GA that knew the difference between work and play. Her cell phone ends up ringing about five different times. By the fifth time Harry heard the buzzing, he couldn’t help but speak up.

“If you need to take that I can step out.” Harry says.

“No, it’s fine.” Casey sighs. “It’s just Daniel being Daniel.”

“What do you mean?”

“His time is more valuable than mine.” She rolls her eyes. “He knows I’m working.”

“What if it’s an emergency?”

“It’s not.”

“Casey, he’s called you five times-“

“It’s not an emergency, now mind your business.” She snaps and stands up with her phone in her hand. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Casey didn’t share too much personal stuff with Harry about her fiancé. When they had lunch together, she told Harry his name is Daniel, and she explained the type of law he practiced, but not much more than that. She didn’t get into how they met, or how he proposed. She didn’t even seem to be excited while talking about him like she did when she and Harry first met. Casey returns about ten minutes later, and sits back down in her chair.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped.” Harry says softly.

“You didn’t.” She sighs. “I snapped at you for no good reason, I apologize.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Mhm.” She says without looking at him, and going into her email on her computer.

Harry furrows his brows as he looks at her, but gets back to what he was doing. If she didn’t want to talk about it then he wasn’t going to push her. Harry notices her resting her chin on her fist as she looks at the picture of her and Daniel that she had on her desk. She sighs heavily and shakes her head, returning to her emails.

“I have my lecture in a bit, so I’m gonna head out.” Harry says, putting his backpack on.

“Alright, have a good class.” She gives him a soft smile. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He smiles back. “See you tomorrow.”

//

Harry’s lecture was long and boring. It was a class all about black and white films, and the beginning of cinema up through the 1950’s. It would be a class full of dense reading materials and learning about theorists that Harry had only briefly learned about previously in undergrad. Normally this would be a class Harry would be really interested in, but the professor had to be at least 70, and he was quite monotone.

When he gets home to his apartment, he grabs a Bud Light out of the fridge, twists the cap off the top, then settles onto the couch. His roommates were all still in class and would be meeting up for pizza in a bit, so Harry had about an hour to himself before he was to go downtown to meet up for dinner. He takes his phone out and scrolls through his various notifications. Halfway through his beer he decides to text Casey.

Harry: any thoughts on Dr. Jensen?

Casey: oh god don’t tell me he’s teaching your lecture course…

Harry: yeah…so is he going to stay boring all semester?

Casey: that dinosaur should have retired years ago, I’m so sorry you have to have a class with him. Is it the early cinema through the 1950’s class?

Harry: that’s the one! The content is interesting enough, but I was on the verge of falling asleep the whole time, idk how I’m gonna survive an entire semester with the guy. Any tips on how to survive his course?

Casey: def make sure you keep up with the homework. He’s one of those jerks that’s been using the same syllabus for the last 20 yrs, so he doesn’t update his exams. I’d also recommend getting a recorder for his lectures, keeping up with notes is basically impossible during class, but if you can go back and listen he actually makes a lot of good points

Harry: you’re a lifesaver, thank you!! 😊

Casey: any time! I actually like a lot of the movies he has on his syllabus, so if you ever want a movie buddy just let me know!

Casey: I’ve got that couch in my office literally so I can comfortably watch movies

A sigh leaves Harry’s mouth when he sees that she rushed to make it known watching movies would only be an on-campus thing. Would it be so weird if she came to his apartment for a movie night?

Harry: that sounds great, I actually have to watch The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari by the end of the week. I’m sure you’ve seen it a million times though…

Casey: I have, but it’s one of my favorites so I won’t mind watching it again

Harry: really??

Casey: yeah! I love German Gothic films, I took a class solely on them in grad school, I can’t get enough. The makeup, the sharp edges, the harsh shadows, it was all just so interesting

He sees the time on his phone and realizes he needs to head downtown to meet up with his roommates. Harry wasn’t one for using his phone while eating with friends, so much to his dismay he has to end the conversation.

Harry: learn something new about you every day! I have to get going, meeting up for pizza with friends. Did you figure out what you and Daniel are having for dinner?

Casey: pasta…have fun with your friends!

Harry: a classic choice, I love pasta

He almost wished he hadn’t sent that last text. She didn’t respond to it. Harry groans at himself, and picks himself up to head outside. He couldn’t wait to stuff his face with some greasy pizza, drink some more beer, and just unwind with his new friends. It was nice being back in school and feeling like your responsibilities could be put on the back burner for a bit. Schoolwork was a less anxiety inducing thing to focus on, as opposed to what the fuck Harry was going to do with his life. Casey would be a great mentor for him. She was essentially doing what he thinks he’d like to be doing. He had an entire year to pick her brain, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. With any luck he’d be her GA again next year, but he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself.

//

Casey and Harry were getting along famously. It was nearly October, and they were already in perfect sync. She was beyond grateful for him and his speedy grading. He was a fast reader, and she was not, so having him grade all of those papers and forum posts for her composition courses freed her up to focus on the work in her other classes. Harry tried his best not to bring up Daniel. Any time he did, Casey seemed to shut down. He’d only ask because he wanted to make sure Daniel wasn’t doing anything abusive to Casey. She never came in with a scratch on her, but Daniel could easily be doing something mental. Daniel never showed up to Casey’s office. If Harry were engaged to Casey, he’d want to visit her all he could, but maybe Casey didn’t like being visited since she always had something to do.

“Hey, Casey, what’s this faculty Halloween party about?” Harry asks her one Thursday afternoon. “I got an e-vite for it.”

“Oh! I forgot they put you on the faculty email list. You should go, it’s a lot of fun. It’s a great way for all of us to get together outside of the monthly faculty meetings. Everyone dresses up, it’s at one of the bars downtown. We get two drink tickets, and the rest you buy yourself.”

“Do other GA’s go?”

“Sometimes.” Casey nods. “It would be a good way for you to meet some of the other GA’s, and other faculty members. You can never have too many of us in your corner.”

“That’s true. What do you think I should dress up as? Like, how all out do people go?”

“Definitely keep it classy, appropriate, but don’t be afraid to have fun. Daniel and I usually do a couple’s costume. We have so much fun going to the store every year and figuring out what we want to do. It works out great cause his law firm has a costume party every year too.” She smiles. “We’re headed to the fabric store this weekend actually to start thinking of ideas.”

“Oh, that’s good. Um, what have you gone as in the past?”

“I’ll show you!” Casey grabs her phone, and wheels herself closer to Harry so he can see. “Last year we went as Bob and Linda from Bob’s Burgers, the year before that we went as vampires, and the year before that we went as Cosmo and Wanda from The Fairly Oddparents.”

“Aw, you guys looks so happy.”

“Yeah.” Casey swallows and locks her phone, wheeling back over to her desk. “Can’t wait to see what we come up with this year.” She mutters as she gets back to her work.

“I’ll have to really think about it. I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in forever.”

“Your friends didn’t have parties?”

“They did, but I was usually working. The bar I worked at had costume contests and stuff, so we were always busy. I’d get too hot from running around to dress up as anything.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Hmm…” She taps her chin as she thinks. “You could go as, like, a baseball player or something.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to see me in a pair of those tight pants.” Harry smirks.

“I see you in tight pants every day, it wouldn’t be anything new.” She says smugly before turning away from him.

“I do not wear tight pants every day.” Harry scoffs. “They may be tight in certain places, but it’s not like I’m walking around in skinny jeans.”

“True.” She side eyes him. “Maybe you could go as a Jonas Brother, all of them wear tight pants, or they used to.”

“I don’t think anyone at that party would get the reference.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t help you think of anything.” She shrugs.

Harry chuckles softly as he gets back to grading papers. He loved when Casey would tease him. He had grown a lot more comfortable with her sense of humor, and they would often end up in hysterics from their banter.

“Casey.” A tall man with salt and pepper hair wearing an expensive looking suit stands in the doorway. He was holding a small bouquet of flowers, and his eyes looked tired. “Baby, can I take you to lunch?”

“Daniel, I’m working.” Casey stands up. “Harry, this is my fiancé, Daniel. Daniel, this is my GA, Harry.”

“Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Daniel says to Harry, then turns his attention back to Casey. “Please, you didn’t pack a lunch this morning. Let me take you out.”

Casey sighs, and ushers Daniel out into the hallway.

“You can’t just show up like this.” She says quietly.

“I’m really trying here, Honey.”

“I only have an hour, so we need to go somewhere quick.”

“That’s fine, uh, I got these for you. Know how much you like tulips.”

“These aren’t even season.” She smiles as she takes the flowers from him. “Thank you, Sweetheart, let me just go grab my jacket.” Casey goes back into her office and grabs her things. “Harry, I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Okay, I’ll probably be in class by the time you get back.”

“Alright.” She nods, and zips up her jacket.

“Do you want me to put those in some water for you?” He asks, nodding towards the flowers.

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s alright. They won’t last more than a few days as it is. It’s not worth it.”

//

Harry had ended up putting together a Clark Kent costume by wearing a light-wash pair of jeans, some converse, a Superman tee shirt with a jacket over it half zipped, and his glasses. He styled his hair to give the front an extra curl. The faculty would definitely be able to see the effort, but it also didn’t look like Harry was trying too hard. He heads downtown to the bar with his roommates, as they were all invited too. They all decided to be super heroes in disguise, so they made sure to take a ton of pictures before going to the party. Harry’s jaw nearly hits the floor when he spots Casey wearing a Morticia Addams costume. Even though Casey wasn’t showing much skin, her off the shoulder dress was leaving little to the imagination.

“Excuse me.” Harry says to his friends before making his way over to Casey. “Hi.”

“Harry!” She beams. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Me too, uh, what do you think of my costume?”

“I love it! Very cute and creative.” She smiles. “No one ever really thinks about dressing as the secret identity.”

“Casey, don’t you look lovely!” Dr. Lind says to her. “Where’s your Gomez?”

“Oh, uh, Daniel’s busy working a case. He couldn’t get away and I told him not to worry about it.” Casey explains.

“Aw, that’s too bad. It’s been ages since we’ve seen him. Have you two picked a date yet?”

“No, not yet. We both have had a lot going on, and we can’t seem to agree on the best time to do it. I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon.”

“You two should just elope, get it done at a courthouse and then have a big party for your families. I mean, the point of being engaged is not to stay engaged.”

“It’s only been a little over a year.” Casey mutters.

“I know, Dear, but you-“

“You know what’s great about being in a monogamous relationship? What happens between Daniel and I is between Daniel and I, none of this really concerns you, Nancy. I appreciate your input, but it’s not needed, excuse me.” Casey has to bite back tears as she walks away.

“My goodness, I didn’t mean to upset her.” Dr. Lind says to Harry.

“I’ll go see if she’s alright.” Harry finds Casey getting a new drink from the bar. He pulls her to the side to have a private word. “Dr. Lind always oversteps, she had no right to speak about what you should be doing.”

“I know that.” Casey says, looking away.

“Did Daniel really have to work late tonight?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“Harry, I don’t want to talk about it.” She says before sipping on her drink. “I just want to have a good time tonight and not think about it, alright?”

“I can respect that, but I don’t think drinking your problems away is a great idea.”

“Harry, no offense, but I don’t need your opinion on this.” She brushes by him and goes to speak with some of her other friends.

A few hours pass, and it was starting to get a little stuffy in the bar, so Harry heads out for some fresh air. He sees Casey outside with a cigarette between her fingers. As he gets closer, he realizes it’s not a cigarette.

“Casey, are you smoking weed?” Harry asks her.

“It’s medicinal.” She mutters, blowing smoke in the opposite direction as to not hit him in the face with it. “It’s for my anxiety.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to take an edible?”

“Not when I need it to work right away.”

“Did you drive yourself here tonight?”

“I did, but I can just take an uber home.” She shrugs. “I came out for some air.”

“So did I.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to pry into your life, but things won’t get better if you keep shit bottled up.”

“I just prefer to keep my private life private.”

“Believe me, I get that, but…god, I wish you’d just talk to me, I’m your friend.”

“Daniel and I had an argument earlier and I told him not to come with me because I didn’t want to pretend like everything was fine. I couldn’t stand in that bar around my friends and colleagues pretending like everything’s fine with him when it’s not. We’re far from fine, and we have been for a while.”

“Did something happen?”

“The morning before the day I first took you out to lunch he told me he was up for a promotion at the firm…partner.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It would have been if it didn’t involve us having to move to New York. He took the bar exam out there without telling me, and he passed. They want him out there to work on larger cases, as a defense attorney. I wouldn’t have been opposed to moving, but he just assumed that I would. He said I could teach anywhere with no regard with how I’d feel about leaving this institution, our friends, and family behind. And then he told me it wouldn’t even matter because he’d be making enough money for me to never have to work another day in my life and that I could just stay home taking care of our future children.”

“That’s a bit old fashioned.”

“It is, which was shocking to me because he’s never acted that way towards me. He’s always been so modern, so progressive. I think he was given advice from the wrong people. Anyways, he took the job in New York because he basically had to, he would have been stupid not to take it, so we’ve only been seeing each other on weekends. And when we do see each other, we just end up fighting…we don’t even sleep in the same room.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what we’re doing anymore.” Her voice cracks, but she swallows her tears down. She spent too long on her makeup to ruin it from crying. “We’ve grown apart, it’s as simple as that, but neither of us have the courage to end it. I love him so much, but lately…lately I’ve been feeling like love just isn’t enough.” She looks up at Harry who had been nice enough to stand out in the cold with her to listen to all of her woes.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all he can think to say. “You should be home with him…trying to work it out.”

“I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough today. I told him to just go back to New York. He’s got a whole new life out there. I’ve been to his apartment a few times, and I didn’t feel like I fit in at all. I don’t even know why he still wants me, he could easily find someone new out there.”

“How could he not want you?” Harry steps a little closer to her. “You’re smart, funny, and…you’re a knockout. If I were him and I saw you about to leave the house looking like this, well…I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“Why, so you could tell me to change into something less form fitting?” She scoffs as she crosses her arms over her chest. Her blunt all but forgotten.

“I would have asked you to take the dress off, that’s for certain. As far getting something back on…” Harry takes another step closer to Casey, making her cheeks feel warm.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not Daniel.”

“I didn’t have much to drink tonight. Let me drive you home, and I’ll take the uber back to my apartment. That way you don’t have to worry about coming back for your car tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, I’m making a suggestion.”

“Okay, yeah, if you don’t mind. I only live, like, fifteen minutes from here. We, uh, rent a townhome.”

Casey hands Harry her keys, and they make their way around the building to the parking lot. The drive is quiet. Casey could feel her eyes starting to droop. Harry had the heat cranked since it had gotten chilly. He watches the map on the navigation screen to make sure he makes the right turns to her house. He pulls into her driveway, and orders his uber.

“Thank you for driving.” Casey says.

“Any time.” Harry smiles and gets out of the car. He jogs around to the other side to open her door, and walks her up her front steps. “You gonna be okay?” He rubs his hands up and down her arms to keep her warm.

“Yeah.” She smiles softly up at him. “Harry, I-“ The front door opens with Daniel standing there.

“Casey, thank god, Baby, I’m so sorry.” He wraps his arms around her, kissing her without acknowledging Harry. “No argument is worth you leaving angry like that for.” He kisses her again.

“Daniel.” She pushes him off of her. “Harry’s here, he drove me home.”

“Oh! Sorry about that.” Daniel says. “Thanks for driving her, man.”

“No problem.” Harry’s uber pulls up in front of the house. “That’s my ride, uh, have a nice night.”

Harry’s gaze lingers on Casey for a moment before making his way to the car. Daniel leads Casey inside the house.

“Did you have a good time?” Daniel asks her as they both walk into the kitchen.

“I guess.” She shrugs. “Would have been more fun if my Gomez had been there with me.” She pouts at him.

“You told me you didn’t want me there.”

“I also told you to go back to New York, so clearly your listening skills are selective.”

“I was so mad at you that I actually almost left, but I couldn’t make it out of the driveway.” He comes over to her, caressing her cheek. “Casey, I want to figure all of this out with you. I don’t want to fight anymore, and I’m sick of sleeping alone.”

“I feel the same way. Let me take all of this off and put on some pj’s, and then we can talk.”

“Okay.” He smiles. “Want me to make you some tea?”

“That’d be great, thank you.”

//

Casey: I’m not able to come in today, I’m not feeling great…do you think you could handle my classes today? You can have comp peer edit their papers, and my other classes can just watch a movie

Harry: sure! Is there anything else you need?

Casey: just some rest, thanks for understanding

Harry had wondered for the rest of the weekend how things went between Casey and Daniel. Maybe he hung around and they were going to spend Monday together. All in all, he hoped Casey was okay. Her Monday classes were sad not to see their beloved Dr. Robertson, but many of the girls in class had no problem with Harry taking over for the day.

As a lark, Harry picked up some pepto bismol and other things that might make someone sick feel better. He pulls up to Casey’s house, and sighs with relief when he doesn’t see Daniel’s car. He rings the doorbell, and waits for Casey to open door.

“H-Harry?” She says as she opens the door. She had on an oversized, quarter-zip fleece and a pair of joggers. Her hair was in a loose, low ponytail with some strands left out in front. Her eyes were red and puffy, as was her nose.

“Hey, I…I brought you some pepto and some other stuff that might make you feel better. I didn’t know if you caught a cold or…are you okay?”

“Oh, Harry!” She wails, and throws her body into his, crying into his chest. Harry wraps his arms around her and moves them both further into the house, closing the door. “I’m not sick.” She sniffles as she looks up at him. “I’m…heartbroken.”

“What happened?”

“Daniel and I broke up.” Her voice cracks, and she shoves her face back into his chest. He holds her close and rubs her back. “We stayed up all night on Saturday talking.” She hiccups, stepping back from him and leading him into her living room. “We watched the sun come up in tears.” They both sit down on her sofa. There was a somewhat tattered blanket that she snatches, hugging it to her chest. “We just couldn’t come to a compromise that worked well enough for the both of us.” She pauses for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “We didn’t yell or argue, we just talked everything out. He agreed that we grew apart and that we still loved each other very much. He was feeling defeated because he felt like he was the only one trying. I knew I stopped trying because I just didn’t have the strength anymore. He’s coming back next weekend to pack up the rest of his things. After we got some sleep on Sunday we went out to get him some boxes, and he packed as much as he could into his car. Five years over and done with just like that.”

“Casey, I’m so sorry.”

“I just needed today to, like, rest and regroup, but I just spent it crying…mourning the loss of my relationship.”

“That sounds like a pretty healthy way to deal with it.”

“Every time I tried to sleep, I just cried. I haven’t eaten all day, I’ve just been in here…wallowing.” She laughs coldly at herself.

“Let me make you something to eat. Do you have food in the kitchen?”

“Harry, you don’t have to. I know you have homework to do.” She frowns.

“My bag’s in the car. I can make you some dinner, and I can work on my assignments. I can even put on one of the movies I need to watch.”

“You really don’t have to babysit me. I’m a grown woman, I can take care of myself.”

“Casey, I want to help. Why don’t you go take a shower or something? I’m sure I’ll be able to find my way around your kitchen. I can just whip up some pasta.”

“You’re very kind, thank you.” She sniffles. “A shower sounds nice, I’ll go do that.”

By the time Casey gets downstairs, all cozy in a fresh fleece and pair of sweatpants, Harry had finished making some ziti mixed with some peas. He seasoned it with some parmesan cheese, pepper, and adobo.

“Hey.” He smiles when he sees her.

“Smells good in here.” She smiles back, hopping up onto one of the stools at her kitchen island. Harry puts a bowl of food in front of her before sitting down next to her. “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me, would you?”

“I can’t help it.” Her bottom lip quivers as she takes a bite of food. “This is just so nice of you.” She sniffles.

“Casey, come on.” Harry chuckles and cradles her cheeks to thumb her tears away. “Can’t have you crying into your dinner.” He pouts cutely at her making her giggle before letting her go.

Harry eats while getting some work done, typing away at his computer. Casey eats her dinner slowly, not wanting to overwhelm her empty stomach. She also got her period earlier in the day, so she knew her tears had to have been in overdrive because of that. She finishes her food with a sigh and sets her fork down.

“All done?” Harry asks softly.

“Mhm, I can clean up.”

“No, let me-“

“Harry, I’m not helpless, please.” She hops off her stool and takes both of their bowls and put them in the dishwasher. “Did you figure out which movie you need to watch for class?”

“I have a choice between Some Like it Hot and The Apartment.”

“God, I can’t stand The Apartment.” Casey groans. “Let’s watch Some Like it Hot, it’s way more entertaining. I actually have it on DVD.”

“Oh, perfect.” Harry follows Casey into her living room, and he sits down as she sets the movie up. “I’ve never seen this one before.”

“Really? You’ll love it, it’s a classic. Marilyn Monroe is in it, and she’s just wonderful.” Casey sits down and hits play on the remote. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

“I’m all set, thank you.” Harry smiles, sitting back into the couch, making himself more comfortable. “You feeling a little better now that you’ve eaten?”

“Yeah, I-“ Casey’s phone starts ringing, and she sees that it’s Daniel. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Casey gets up quickly, and makes her way upstairs. “Hi…”

“Hi.”

“You don’t sound great.” Casey says softly.

“Been crying all day.”

“Me too.” She sighs.

“Are we sure we’re doing the right thing? If it hurts this much, shouldn’t we try to find a way to make this work?”

“Daniel, we went round in circles all weekend. You’re staying in New York, and I’m staying here. I don’t want you sacrificing your career for me. We’re not the same people we were five years ago…we’re both different now. I…I don’t want to wait for things to get started anymore.”

“So, you’d rather start over with someone new than just wait a little longer to get married to someone you know and love?”

“I want to marry someone who doesn’t lie to me about a promotion! You didn’t even talk to me before you accepted. It was like I didn’t even matter in your life, Daniel, don’t you understand that?”

“I know it was wrong of me to do that, I just thought you’d be on board…”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Apparently so.” There’s a beat of silence between them. “I’ll be coming back late on Friday. I should be able to pack everything else up during the weekend.”

“Okay, do you want me to stay with Lola? Like, do you not want me here?”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own home, Casey. Besides, I’ll need you there so we can properly divide things up.”

“Right, yeah…”

“And we didn’t exactly get to have a, uh, proper goodbye.”

“Daniel.” Casey giggles. “I don’t think doing it one last time would be a good idea.”

“I’m not saying we need to plan it out, but if it happens…”

“We’ll see. I really am sorry we couldn’t compromise on things.”

“Me too. Well, I’ll let you go now. Sleep well.”

“You too.” Casey sighs as she hangs up, and makes her way downstairs. “Hey, Harry, if it’s all the same, I think I’m gonna just go to bed, but you can borrow the DVD if you want.”

“Oh! Okay.” Harry pauses the movie and stands up. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just hormonal and tired. I’m ready to just crawl into bed and get cozy. I want to have a fresh start tomorrow.”

“Right, makes sense.” Harry gathers his things, and Casey walks him to the door.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming by.”

“All I did was make a little dinner.” Harry shrugs.

“It was more than that and you know it.” She pokes his chest playfully. “You’re a great friend.” She opens her arms up for him, and he gladly accepts her hug. He holds her close to him, maybe for a beat too long, but he likes the way she feels pressed up against him. Harry was also known for not being the first person to end a hug. Casey’s arms start to loosen around him, and he looks down at her. Her eyes widen when she sees Harry start to lean in. “Woah, what are you doing?” She steps back from him.

“N-nothing.” His face flushes.

“Were you just going to try to kiss me?”

“What, no! Of course not.” He swallows.

“Yes you were!” She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath before looking at him. “Hi, I just broke up with my fiancé, who I’ve been with for over five years, what part of that made you think it was a good time to pull a move on me? Was all of this because you just wanted to try and get a piece?”

“Casey, that’s not what’s happening. I genuinely came to check on you. I…I just misread a signal, that’s all.”

“What signal? I literally just said you were a good friend and hugged you!” She puts her hands on her hips and frowns at him. “I’m really disappointed in you, Harry. You never struck me as the kind of guy to be nice to a girl just to try to-“

“I’m not one of those guys.” He shakes his head. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or disrespect you, I just thought…”

“Harry, you’re my GA.”

“I know.”

“It would be highly inappropriate for us to get involved. I mean, I know I’m only three years older than you, but at the end of the day I have a position of power over you. You’re a bright man, Harry, don’t be stupid and risk messing up your future because you have a crush.”

Harry looks down at his shoes, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I understand what you’re saying.” He looks up at her. “But you haven’t said that you don’t like me back.” He smirks, making her mouth fall open. She was speechless. “Sleep tight, Casey.” Harry turns and opens the door, letting himself out. Casey stands in her doorway.

“You’re on thin ice, Styles!” She calls after him.

“I’ll make sure to step with caution, Dr. Robertson!” He shouts back before getting into his car.

Casey shuts her door, and sighs, leaning against it for a moment before bringing herself up to bed. She goes through her nightly routine, and gets herself settled into her sheets. She knew there was an underlying reason as to why she didn’t want to try harder with Daniel. The more she got to know Harry, the more she’d dread coming home to her now ex-fiancé. She used to love coming home to Daniel and recounting their days, but she realized she just didn’t care about his cases anymore. She wanted to have high level talks about film and media. Daniel would always listen, but he never really understood why Casey was so passionate about her work. To him, it all just seemed like a hobby rather than a career. Harry, on the other hand, had the same passions as her. He understood how stimulating talk about film and media could be. She wasn’t having sexual feelings towards Harry, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the emotional attachment that begun. She figured maybe she couldn’t love Daniel that much if she’d rather spend extra hours in her office with Harry instead of trying to get home to Daniel before heading back to New York. It pained her, but that was the truth. Tonight confirmed that Harry was definitely into Casey. Now all Casey had to do was figure out how she felt about Harry, but she needed to get over Daniel first.

//

“You’re here early.” Casey says to Harry the next morning.

“I wanted to talk to you about last night. I feel really bad about how I acted. I thought that maybe we were having a moment. I apologize for misreading things. Kept me up all night.”

“Have a seat.” She motions to her couch and he sits down. She turns in her seat to face him. “Don’t worry about last night. I was in a vulnerable state, and I was more affectionate than I should have been. Nothing really happened between us, so it’s all good. It’s going to take me some time to get over Daniel. Five years is a long time to be committed to one person. I’m seeing him again this weekend, and who knows what could happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“We could easily get back together, and then what? The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Besides that, you’re my GA, it would be wrong. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. It’s not like…I mean…it’s nothing, okay? Think I’m just into you cause we have so much in common. And I really look up to you. You’re so accomplished, you know?”

“A smart woman doesn’t intimidate you?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I think smart women are incredibly”, Harry gets up from his seat and sits on the edge of Casey’s desk, “incredibly sexy.”

“You’re not really sorry for trying to kiss me last night, are you?” She smirks up at him.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you and for overstepping a boundary.” A grins starts to pull on his lips. “But I’m not sorry that it’s lead to you admitting that you like me.”

“I never said I liked you.”

“You never said you didn’t.”

“Harry.” Casey sighs.

“Listen”, Harry gets off her desk and sits back down on the couch, taking out his laptop. “take as much time as you need to get over Daniel. I’ll be right here when you’re ready for me.” He peers up at her from his laptop, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’re insufferable.” She shakes her head, getting back to her own work.

“And yet, here we are.”

“Harry, it’s 8:30 in the morning, we don’t have class until 10. Do me a favor and stay quiet until then, yeah?”

He makes a motion as to zip his lips, making Casey chuckle and roll her eyes. Later that day, when Harry had to leave for his own lecture, Casey snuck off to go see her friend, Lola, who works in the financial aid office.

“You busy?” Casey asks her friend as she sits down.

“I’m always free for you, Honey.” Lola smiles warmly. “What’s up?”

“Um…Daniel and I decided to officially end things over the weekend.” Casey says quietly. Lola had a cubicle to herself, but there were always wandering ears.

“Oh my god! I knew you guys were on the rocks, but holy shit.”

“He didn’t want to give up New York, and I didn’t want to give up here. It sucks, I’m totally heartbroken.” Casey frowns, trying not to cry again.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come over or something.”

“Well, I sort of just wanted to be alone…um, but someone came by to take care of me.”

“Oh, who?”

“H-Harry.”

“Your GA?!” Lola whisper-screams, and Casey nods. “Holy fuck, did anything happen?”

“No.” Casey shakes her head. “He just made me dinner…but he tried to kiss me before he left. I called him out on it, but…I don’t know, like, I…fuck.” Casey pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “I don’t really know how to articulate this.”

“You find your GA, who happens to only be three years younger than you, attractive.” Lola says for Casey.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. But I don’t want to get involved with anyone else right now. I still love Daniel, like, my heart is still with him.”

“But you also think you like Harry.”

“Well, what’s not to like about him? He makes me laugh, I like talking to him, he’s very sweet…and…fuck, I can’t even think like this. This is so unethical of me. If this were a male professor with a female GA, I’d be totally against it.”

“Yes, but that’s not the situation. You’re twenty-eight, he’s twenty-five, it’d be weird if you didn’t fall for each other.”

“I feel like it’s like when you fall for your therapist, you know? Like, what if he just likes me because he looks up to me? I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought of this, right? It’s got to be against the rules.”

“Are you his professor?”

“Of course not, you know I don’t teach graduate level courses.”

“So, he in no way is going to be graded by you?”

“No.”

“And he could have easily been assigned to any other professor in the department. There was no special request on your part. And again, he’s twenty-five-years-old, it’s not like he’s some naïve twenty-one-year-old kid who just finished undergrad, you know?”

“That’s true.” Casey chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, think I need to get over my break up before I do anything.”

“I think that’s a good idea. You were together for over five years, that’s not something you’ll get over in a day, Babe. What do you say you and I grab drinks this weekend?”

“I can’t, Daniel’s coming back to pack up the rest of his things and he wants me there.”

“Alright, how about on Thursday? We can go for happy hour downtown after I get out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Casey nods. “Think I could definitely use some girl time, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Don’t overthink this Harry thing either. It’s not a problem yet, so don’t turn it into one.”

“You’re right, it’s just been a little flirting, it’s not like anything’s actually happened between us. If he really likes me, he’ll be patient.”

“And don’t forget, you’re worth the wait.”

[galren]

Scholarship

More of Aruk’s backstory, involving a dream-crushing moment that he hasn’t let go of, even 15 years later. 

   It was the first time in weeks that Aruk had made it to rehearsal early enough to warm up for more than a few minutes before starting. He stepped into the orchestra recital hall for big band rehearsal and set his bag down next to the piano, looking frazzled and unkempt, but cheerful, and was greeted by Norgren, who was the only other early arrival.

   “Mornin’, Norgren. How’re you?”

   Norgren looked up at Aruk, but wouldn’t make eye contact. “Hey. I’m okay. I, uh, take it you haven’t seen the email yet?”

   Aruk peered down at him, confused. “Er, no. I just woke up a bit ago, was asleep in the practice room upstairs. What’s happened?”

   “Oh, man,” Norgren sighed, looking away from Aruk completely. “I really don’t like having to be the one to break news to people. Aruk, uh...let me just pull the email up. I don’t wanna say anything that’s not worded the way they meant it.”

   “What? What news? What’s going on?”

   Norgren pulled out his tablet and tapped on it a few times, scanning over the text he pulled up quietly before finally handing the tablet over to Aruk, who took the tablet and held it close to his face so he could read it, brows furrowing the further along he read.

   “I don’t understand. The department was just asking for volunteers to help out at the scholarship auditions a few days ago. Why would they suddenly cancel the scholarship program after doing all this planning for it?” he asked, scratching at the back of his head with his free hand. “Doesn’t really make sense, does it?”

   “You’re right, but...you should probably read the rest,” Norgren replied quietly.

   Aruk looked back at the tablet. For a long, tense moment, Aruk stared at it, silent.

   “No…”

   “I’m really sorry, Aruk.”

   “It’s gotta be a mistake. There’s no way...I’ll just have to go to the registrar before practice with Edgar, this can’t be right. They can’t...they wouldn’t...it’s just got to be a mistake.”

   Aruk said it more to keep his spirit up than he did out of conviction.

   He spent the entire rehearsal trying to focus, his fingers not meeting the piano the way he wanted them to at the speed he wanted them to, his mind not connecting to anything outside of it the way he knew it needed to. He could barely focus his eyes on the sheet music long enough to read it, and was playing more from muscle memory than anything else. All he could see in his mind was the email text, scrolling down that tablet screen.

   Due to a shift in funding needs with regard to renovation efforts around campus, we regret to announce that the Sternfeld Scholarship Program is to be discontinued at the end of this academic year.

   “Galren! What’s going on? You’re playing like garbage today, this isn’t like you.”

   Safety upgrades have to be made to meet recently updated government-mandated requirements, and funding for several programs are being cut to facilitate that.

   The band director was yelling at him for a particularly rough few measures of Minuano, but Aruk couldn’t bring himself to look up.

   Regretfully, we must also announce that this program cancellation is retroactive, and will impact current scholarship recipients at the start of the upcoming school year.

   Aruk’s eyes were fixed on his dartmouth hands, but they were staring past them, past the white keys beneath them, past the floor beneath that.

   All students currently attending Anfor Conservatory on a Sternfeld Scholarship will be expected to pay full tuition and board for enrollment in future academic calendar years.

   “I...I’m sorry. I’m having an off day. I’m just not feeling well, is all. I’ll practice more to make up for it, I just...I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right under my hands right now. I’m really sorry.”

   If you have any questions or concerns, please contact your program advisor, or speak to an employee at the Registrar.

   “If you’re sick then you shoulda just told someone you weren’t gonna be here and stayed home. If you get anyone else sick then it’s worse than just one person being absent, even if you are the pianist, Galren. Maybe if you bathed more and took better care of yourself, you wouldn’t be sick.”

   “Hey, that’s not fair, he just—” Norgren began, but Aruk spoke before he could say anything else.

   “I’ll go. Sorry.”

   Aruk could feel the eyes of the rest of the big band on his back as he grabbed his music and stuffed it into his bag, could feel them stare him down as he left the hall, could feel the weight of the stares as he headed not for his dorm, but directly to the Office of the Registrar.

   The Office of the Registrar was bustling when Aruk arrived. It was still early enough in the semester that a number of students were still trying to get their schedules sorted, and others were still trying to get financial aid taken care of. Aruk quietly took his place in line, staring down at the floor as he waited for an advisor to free up. His heart raced as he waited, but as the line moved forward, he could feel his breath hitch in his throat a bit more, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

   By the time it was his turn, Aruk felt ready to explode.

   “Hello, how can I help you today?”

   It took Aruk a moment to process that he’d sat down in the chair in front of the counter, only barely catching the name “Marian Sherborne” on the placard in front of him before he started to speak.

   “Uh...hi. M-My name’s Aruk Galren, I’m on a Sternfeld Scholarship, and I—”

   “Ah, are you here to ask about this year? If so, you don’t need to worry, this academic year is still covered, you don’t owe anything,” she replied brightly.

   “N-No, it’s not that, it’s just...is there any way that it’s possible that it’s a mistake? I mean, the only reason I’m even able to attend is because of my scholarship—”

   “I’m afraid it’s not a mistake, no. The budget for the facility work was approved and finalized yesterday, which is why the conservatory was prompted to send out the email,” she said.

   “But, but surely it can’t have saved the school that much money, there are only two people on the scholarship each year,” Aruk said, mouth moving faster than he could process the thoughts leaving it. “Couldn’t they cut the funding from something else?”

   “I’m sorry, Mister Galren, but like I said, the budget and reallocation of the funds was already approved and finalized. There’s no undoing it now,” Marian said. Her face was sympathetic, but her voice did not match. “As one of the members of the budget committee, it was partly my job to do things in the most efficient way possible, and I’m afraid that all of the funding programs that could have been impacted were. We just don’t have a say in the matter, given that it’s a government requirement at all.”

   “Well...Well…,” Aruk mumbled, trying to grasp at anything he could, some kind of solution to the problem that wasn’t manifesting in his mind. “Are...are there any other scholarships or grants I could apply for to take its place? I just...well, I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, but I can’t afford to go here without the scholarship.”

   “Well, maybe, but it’s pretty circumstantial. What’s your major?”

   “Piano performance!” Aruk replied, more eagerly than he’d meant to. “I, uh, won the scholarship competition last year to get into Anfor.”

   Upon hearing Aruk mention piano performance, Marian’s demeanor changed, face completely impassive. “Oh, no, I’m afraid we don’t have any additional funding that can be put toward piano performance. We have limited funding that can go toward the piano program as it is, given other programs in the music conservatory require funding as well.”

   “But is there anything—”

   “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid not.” The words were professional. Cold. “If there’s anything else I can help you with, please feel free to come back, but I’m afraid there are others waiting in line that I need to help. Have a good rest of your day.”

   Aruk stared down at her for longer than either of them would have liked before he finally stood up, numb and defeated.

   The floodgates burst when the door to Aruk’s dorm clicked shut behind him, and the weight of losing his scholarship washed over him—three months of the school year were left, but after that, it would be over. He didn’t have any real-world skills, he couldn’t credit a year of schooling as enough to get him a job as a professional pianist anywhere, and returning to Yosem to live with his parents meant giving up his dream for good.

   He remembered he was supposed to be at rehearsal with Edgar a moment later.

   “Why are you so late?!” Edgar said angrily as a puffy-eyed Aruk stumbled into the large practice room. “We were supposed to start almost fifteen minutes ago! How unprofessional can you get?! You’re supposed to be the best pianist at the conservatory now, aren’t you? What happened to being professional?! This is such a waste of time, and I already don’t have time I can afford to be wasting on—”

   “I had to go to the registrar, I’m sorry!” Aruk finally blurted out before Edgar could finish. “It was the scholarship, I had to talk to them about the scholarship, I’m sorry.”

   “...Oh.” Edgar looked up at Aruk, suddenly impassive. “Yes, I got the email this morning as well. My parents have assured me that my last year will be covered. What did you find out at the registrar?”

   Aruk’s hands fidgeted at his sides. “They said they couldn’t help me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I...don’t think I’ll be able to go here after this year is over, Edgar. What should I do?”

   “Well, at least you’ll be able to perform with the orchestra before you go,” Edgar replied. “I don’t know what you should do either, but for the time being we need to get to work on the Lutoslawski, we’re nearly twenty minutes behind. Can we talk about this after practice?”

   “Y-Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you, Edgar,” Aruk mumbled, sitting down at his piano.

   The duo worked through two of the Paganini variations, Edgar stopping routinely to tell Aruk how he wanted the piece to go, Aruk nodding mutely and following Edgar’s lead. Normally, Aruk would give his input on how he thought segments ought to be played, building the piece together as a duo, but he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to the reality of not being able to play for much longer.

   “Okay, well, we’ve made some good headway today, I think,” Edgar finally said, after they locked a particularly tricky few measures into place to his liking. “Unfortunately I do need to get going, as I’ve got my lesson with Branford shortly. I hope you don’t mind ending here for today.”

   “N-No, that’s fine,” Aruk replied quietly. He sat there, silent, as Edgar packed his music and stood up to leave, but finally found his voice as Edgar reached the door. “Hey, um...sorry again that I was late. I...I really like playing piano with you, and I hope that we can keep playing together after this semester.”

   Edgar turned to look at him, that familiar impassive expression on his face, but he nodded before saying, “I’ll see you next week. Don’t be late next time, okay?”

   “O-Okay. I won’t.”

   Aruk moved to a practice room to pass the time until jazz quartet, at which point he went downstairs to the classroom they shared for practice. As soon as he entered, Norgren pushed the door shut behind him. Barrett and Alric weren’t there yet.

   “Uh...what’s going on, Norgren?” Aruk asked, perplexed. “Don’t tell me you have more bad news? This is the second time today you’ve acted weird around me.”

   Norgren hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, actually. I don’t want this to get around the conservatory because I know it’ll come back to bite me in the ass if I say it too loud, but I know I can tell you without it being a problem. Plus, it involves you, so it’s probably better for you to find out from me than anyone else.”

   “What does that mean? What involves me?”

   “The scholarship,” Norgren replied. “Why it got canceled, and all that.”

   “I went to the registrar and talked to a lady there about it,” Aruk said. “It was canceled to use that money for building renovations, like the email said.”

   “No, that’s what they’re telling people, Aruk,” Norgren said, short. “I asked a few friends who have different scholarships that were supposedly cut too, but they said theirs are fine.”

   “...What?” Aruk shook his head. “I don’t understand, what do you mean?”

   “It was only the performance scholarships that were given the axe,” Norgren said. “The only scholarships that got cut were the ones earned from the scholarship auditions. Everybody else’s scholarships are fine.”

   “I...don’t get it. What reason would they have to lie about it? Why not just say it was the performance ones that were cut, if that’s the case?” Aruk asked. He could feel his heart rate beginning to pick up, and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

   “Probably to throw suspicion off.”

   “Suspicion about what…?”

   Norgren rubbed his face with his hands, then tilted his head back so he was making eye contact with Aruk as he spoke. “Aruk, I’m pretty sure Edgar got your scholarship canceled because you took his spot with the orchestra. His aunt works in the registrar and is part of the budget committee, he probably asked her for help.”

   “What…?” Aruk was so caught off guard that he let out an awkward laugh. “Norgren, Edgar has the same scholarship I do, why would he want it to be canceled? That doesn’t make any sense—”

   “The difference is it’s probably free for Edgar to go here anyway, Aruk,” Norgren said. “His parents both work here. For him that scholarship is probably more like a fellowship, where he gets paid to be here. Everyone else who has the scholarship will probably figure out a way to make it work. But for you, it’s a necessity. You can’t go here without it.”

   “But...why?” Aruk said, crestfallen. “Why would Edgar want me to lose my scholarship? If it’s just about the orchestra performance, I don’t mind giving it up, I’m already in jazz band—”

   “It’s not about the spot itself, Aruk. It’s the fact you beat him.” Norgren glanced toward the door, then started setting up his drum kit as he spoke. “No one’s ever beaten him before. This is probably the first time in his life that he’s been told that someone else was chosen over him, if his constant arrogance isn’t a dead giveaway.”

   “Can’t I just…” Aruk started, then drifted off, unsure of what to say.

   “I don’t think so. Even if you offered him the spot, he’d see it as you pitying him. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s been making a lot of offhand comments about how he’s not the number one pianist here lately—”

   Norgren stopped abruptly as the classroom door swung open and Barrett walked in, bass hoisted over his shoulder. “Hey, sorry I’m late, Sherborne held us over. You’d think this early in the semester he’d take it easy on us, but I guess not. Alric’s seriously not here yet?”

   “Hey, sorry, my private lesson is right before this, I just got out a second ago,” Alric said, walking in and setting his saxophone cases down. “So, did we decide what music we want to do this semester, or were you guys waiting for me?”

   Aruk looked at Barrett and Alric, then reluctantly sat down at the piano. “N-No, we haven’t decided anything yet. I really liked that arrangement of Gloria’s Step that we sight-read last week, though.”

   “Oh, yeah! Please, there’s so much fun bass stuff there, we have to do that one,” Barrett said, eyes alight.

   “How about we run each one once to see how we feel about it now and then decide after?” Alric asked.

   “Sure, that’s fine,” Norgren said, sitting down at his set. “Let’s get to it.”

   The rehearsal flew by. Aruk spent most of it focused on the music, and for a while he was almost able to tune out the growing fear, sadness, and doubt inside him. But the longer the rehearsal went on, the more Norgren’s words sunk in, and the more Aruk began to shoulder a feeling of regret and sadness that lingered long after he left the room.

   Though the reality of his situation had begun to sunk in, Aruk found his mind returning to Edgar no matter how much he tried to redirect it to other things, and his heart sank every time his mind looped back in on itself, wanting nothing more than to reach out to him and hold him close while also wanting nothing more than to push him away and never look back.

   That night, in the silence of the upstairs practice room, Aruk cried for the first time since he was a child, the sound muffled by the uneven plunks of notes on the piano.

[paradisobound]

Young and In Love

Summary: Written for the Phandom Big Bang 2017! 

When the coffee shop in the basement of Dan’s university is suddenly closed one evening, he uses his phone to track the next closest one. But who was to know that his life would change entirely when he stepped inside? A story of love, heartbreak, and everything in-between, we follow Dan through the journey of growth and acceptance. 

Word Count: 9,194 (this was supposed to be 5-7k, whoops) 

Pairing: Punk!Dan Howell and Present!2017!Phil Lester

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, self-hatred, slight mentions of depression, and light-smut (it stops before the actual act of sex)

Authors Note: When I first signed up for the PBB, I had no idea what I was getting into. I did the smallest word count possible (and still went over, mind you lol) and put a lot of time and effort into this story. I went through so many emotions with this, most of the time them being how this wasn’t going to be good enough. But I had some amazing encouragement from so many people and that’s what pushed me through! I just really wanted to say that I thank everyone for making my first PBB one to remember! I definitely want to do this every year I’m in the Phandom from this point on! I also really want to thank my amazing beta Gabbie ( @tiredofbeingnice123 ), who stepped in when my first beta could no longer do the job. And for my artist @yolkoii who has done that beautifully done piece for this fic located at the top! I really just hope that at the end of the day, everyone enjoys this and has a great time reading it! Happy reading! :) 

“You get ready, you get all dressed up / To go nowhere in particular / Back to work or the coffee shop / Doesn’t matter cause it’s enough / To be young and in love”- Young and In Love by Lana Del Rey 

Dan found the little cafe on the corner of 1st and 2nd Main Street by complete chance. Most of the time, he would never go into a cafe; his persona just wouldn’t fit the pastel and hipster aesthetic that can sometimes go with such a place. But today, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had just finished his Uni lecture: a three hour long class talking about the importance of Shakespeare, and why his works are still timeless. He was already falling asleep, but he needed a caffeine boost if he wanted to get through the next class that would begin in an hour. He would usually go to his Uni’s cafe, but it was closed for the evening.

So really, the next best thing he could do was Google the next closest cafe, and walk over. It turned out to be only three blocks away.

When he approached the entrance, he felt a wave of anxiety wash over him at breaking his typical routine. He felt himself nervously twitch, and he tugged at the side of his beanie that was covering the tip of his ears, forcing it further down. It was chilly outside today; a typical February afternoon for London. When he awoke in his flat that morning, the sun had tricked him into thinking that the weather would be warmer, leaving him wearing a thin black hoodie that the air went through.

He put his hand on the door and pushed it open, grunting a bit at the heaviness of the glass paneled door. The minute his leather-studded boot touched the dark wooden floor, he could almost feel everyone’s eyes on him. He brushed it off, shaking his head slightly. He pushed the thoughts about people’s stares and silent judgment aside; the whole idea that this wasn’t his typical scene was making him slightly self-conscious.

As he walked further inside, he bit at his tongue ring in his mouth, and then bit his lip, and tugged at his lip ring. He let go of the ring just in time to see that he was stood in line behind a group of other people. Upon a quick look up, he noticed a member of the group was staring at him, but then quickly looked away.

He bowed his head, adjusting his backpack that weighed heavy against his shoulders. Maybe if he didn’t look up, he wouldn’t notice that some people were staring?

He wasn’t sure even sure how he got to the counter, as he felt like he was walking through thick fog. He set his backpack on the countertop and fumbled around in the messy bag for his wallet.

“While you’re looking for your wallet, can I start an order for you?”

Dan looked up and spoke before his eyes could focus.

“Black coffee, please.”

He went back down to pawing through his bag as he heard the random clicking and tapping that came with every cash register. After what felt like ages, he found the tattered black leather square at the bottom of his bag.

He quickly opened it and looked up just in time to be met with bright blue eyes. His breath hitched, and when he went to ask the price, his words got stuck in his throat. He coughed slightly.

Why did he have to be so awkward? Better yet, why was this guy so goddamn beautiful?

“That’ll be $1.99,” the worker said, putting his hand out to take his payment before Dan could even register what was happening.

Dan gave him a small smile and nodded. He dug through his run-down wallet and pulled out two crumpled dollar bills.

“You can wait over there for your drink,” The worker said, pointing to a small area where people were gathered around with straws and cardboard cup sleeves.

“Can I get a name?”

Dan nodded.

“Dan,” he spoke out, thankful that this time he remembered his own name.

The man nodded and smiled back, before asking for the next customer.

Dan shuffled down the line and waited for his coffee at the counter. But the whole time, he couldn’t take his eyes off from the man with blue eyes.

He mentally cursed himself for not looking at the man’s name tag.

Not too long after, his drink was handed to him, and he was grabbing his cream and sugar before heading off. However, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he needed to come back so he could see this man once more.

The following week went by in an almost blur for Dan. He got pulled aside in his Law class for not turning in a paper that was due three classes before. When he was questioned about it, he felt a pang of guilt for not trying harder; he just didn’t have the motivation anymore.

At the end of the week, he had a meeting with each of his professors. The decision to do this came after he got an email from his advisor saying that as of late, he was failing every class. He didn’t want to be known as the guy who flunked out of Uni, so he figured he would try and get some extra-credit to help bring his GPA up before midterms.

The first three professors seemed sympathetic and helpful. They offered him different lectures he could go to so he could earn extra-credit, and even to gain a better understanding of material. But it was the fourth professor that got on his nerves.

It was his English professor, and although Dan enjoyed English, it was clear that the professor did not enjoy Dan. The meeting ended abruptly, with his professor telling him to just focus on the class and he’ll end the semester with a solid B.

And then the fifth professor––his law professor––was the worst of them all. The professor did nothing but scream at him for not caring about the class and not doing his work. When Dan explained to him how he wasn’t even sure if Law was what he wanted to do, the professor suggested he drop out of the program.

This led to Dan making an appointment with his academic advisor for the next day. He figured that his advisor would help him figure out what he truly wanted to do, but the meeting turned awry fast.

The normally-kind older lady snapped at him, telling Dan to ‘knock off’ his ‘persona,’ because if he wants to be a lawyer, he can’t act the way he does now. When Dan tried to explain to her that he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to be a lawyer anymore, she told him that he needed to calm down and they’d schedule a meeting at another time.

Dan walked away from the meeting upset and angry. He was beginning to see university as a thorn in his side rather than something he’ll actually find useful in his life.

He doesn’t want to be a fucking lawyer anyway.

And frankly, he’s thinking about dropping out.

He actually doesn’t know why he hasn’t already.

In this time of pure existentialism, he’d headed down to the basement of his building to get an afternoon pick-me-up of coffee. When he got there and saw that the shop closed, he stopped and thought of where he could go.

And that’s when he remembered that coffee shop that he went to before. The one with the attractive worker.

He walked out of the building, listening to his music, and headed in the direction towards the cafe. He hasn’t been here since the last time –– quite honestly, he had forgotten about it momentarily. But now he was kind of…excited(?)…to go there. Maybe the attractive employee would be there again; though, it’s not like he’d have the courage to talk to him, other than to give his order anyway. The cafe’s sign came into view and he walked up to the door, pushing it open and smiling to himself until he looked up and noticed that the only working was a blonde female.

Dan snapped out of his thoughts only to realize that he was blocking the way to the counter. Still craving his coffee, he headed up to the counter where he subconsciously looked around for the worker from the day before.

“Um…,” he began without realizing it. “Just by total chance…I mean, not to sound creepy or anything…but is a guy with blue eyes working here today?”

He wanted to hit himself over the head. What was he thinking asking that? He couldn’t believe that those words had even came out of his mouth.

The girl, whose name tag read Louise, looked at him up at him and furrowde his brows. Her face was clearly showing slight shock at the question, “Oh, Phil?” She asked, and Dan just nodded, because maybe that is his name. “He’s working the night shift tonight. He’ll be working from 8 to 8 overnight.”

“Oh, okay.” Dan answered, trying to stay cool as he made a mental note to come back here tonight to work on his homework instead of stay in his flat.

“Any particular reason you’re asking?” She asked.

Dan stood back slightly and stuttered for a moment.

“He, uh…h-he makes me a special drink.” Louise cocked an eyebrow.

“Does he now?” She asked with a smile now forming. “That’s such a Phil thing, oh my. Well, can I get you anything that will make up for you not getting your special drink from Phil today?”

Dan smiled in his head, feeling a tiny bit giddy from just the way she spoke. But he kept his composure as he answered, “A black coffee is fine,” even though it came out as more of a mumble.

She looked at him and replied, “Such a tame drink. That’ll be $1.99 by the way.”

Dan went back to the cafe at around midnight. He was going to come earlier, but he found himself trying to pick out a nice outfit and freaking out, as if he was going on a date. He opted for a pair of Adidas track pants and a hoodie, so he at least looked like your average “college-student-who-needed-a-fix-of-coffee-in-order-to-stay-awake-to-write-a-paper.”

Truth be told, Dan probably wouldn’t have done the paper if it wasn’t for this. It’s a paper based on some subsection of law, and he’s supposed to interpret them.

Okay, so it was the paper that was due three classes ago; he really just didn’t want to do something that boring. However, he decided that he might as well do it if he wanted a reason to go to the cafe.

Dan didn’t even know why he felt a need to come back to the cafe just to see this ‘Phil’. Sure, he often thought about the way ‘Phil’ looked when he first saw him, but Dan had never gone to the work of going to see someone just because he thought they were cute.

He walked into the cafe and was a bit taken back at how eerily quiet it was in there. There wasn’t any music. No one else was there, and there isn’t even any sign of ‘Phil’ behind the counter.

He took a seat in the dimly-lit cafe in a booth and began to set up his work station for the night. He had everything ready when he hears a loud gasp, followed by what sounded like metal clanking onto the ground.

Dan jumped and turned around to see a worker bent down towards the floor. He was cursing under his breath as he picked up the metal objects that fell out of his hands. Feeling bad that he may have caused this, Dan got up and rushed over to the counter.

“I’m so sorry if I scared you.”

The male looked up and laughed, before throwing the dishes into the small sink on the side of the counter.

Dan smiled inside his head because the male looking back at him was definitely Phil.

“No,” he said shaking his head as he laughed, “it’s not you, I promise; I’m just not used to seeing anyone here at this time of night. Every time I work the night shift, I normally use the time to wash everything up and get it clean.”

Dan looked at him, almost guilty.

“I just need to finish a term paper, but I can leave if it—”

Phil shook his head.

“It’s all good; I actually think I’ll enjoy the company for once.”

Dan smiled at him.

“I might not be good company.” Phil stood up straighter and just shrugged.

“I don’t believe that.”

Phil then cleared his throat and pointed towards his abandoned seat.

“You better get working then. And I should too actually.”

Having forgotten about that stupid paper, he nodded sadly before giving Phil another brief smile and heading over to his spot.

The time flew by after that. Really, he didn’t even realize that it was close to 5 a.m. until he felt his eyes begin to close, and his body begin to sag and lean in the booth. He desperately needed something to help him out because he was threateningly close to falling asleep here, and that would be embarrassing.

As if right on cue, Dan heard the sound of squeaking and he woke up momentarily to see Phil sitting across from him.

“You look like you need a little bit of a push.”

He pushed Dan a mug of something and Dan opened his eyes wider to evaluate what it was.

“What—?”

“It’s a caramel macchiato,” Phil said with a smile, “my favorite.”

Dan stretched before reaching down and taking the mug in his hands. He brought it up to take a sip when Phil suddenly exclaimed, “Don’t drink it yet!”

Dan looked at him, confused. Phil sheepishly added, “I just made it and if you drink it now, you’ll burn your mouth.”

Dan set the mug back down and smiled,

“Thank you for giving me the warning.”

“I’m not going to let you injure yourself, Dan, just because you’re half asleep.”

“How did you know my name?”

“You told me the last time you were here and I took your order. I didn’t mean to sound creepy.”

Dan shook his head.

“No, no! Please don’t think that I thought of that way,” he said, “I’m just tired and my brain is fried. I have a class at ten, and I probably should go home and sleep. But if I do, I’m literally going to dream of these fucking laws and I’m so sick of it.”

“Oh…you’re in University?”

Dan nodded.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?”

“I’m studying law and I hate it,” Dan quickly explained.

Phil pursed his lips.

“Oh, that makes sense. I completed my degree in English Language and Linguistics about two years ago.”

Dan’s ears perked up in that statement. His brains began to go through possibility after possibility of Phil’s words. He was still thinking when he caught Phil yawning across from him.

“I hate these long shifts,” Phil spoke, “They always get the best of me.”

“Make a coffee for yourself?” Dan suggested, pointing down to his own drink on the table.

Phil shook his head. “I’ve had enough coffee for the night.”

Dan went to speak again when the door to the shop opened and a middle aged gentlemen walked inside wearing a business suit. As Phil got up to serve him, Dan caught himself staring at the man and thinking to himself that that could be him one day. He could be that man wearing a suit and ordering a coffee at five in the morning.

And man, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that.

He was still thinking when he watched Phil waltz around behind the counter as he made the man his drink. He replayed Phil’s words about him having a degree already over in his head and he bit the inside of his cheek.

Maybe Phil could help him out? Sure, he didn’t quite know if he wanted to be a lawyer, but he could still pass all of his classes. And maybe by some luck, Phil had taken similar ones which meant that he could help him out.

Unfortunately, that was such a long shot and frankly, Dan didn’t know if Phil would even be up for that. He didn’t even know if Phil wanted to be around him. Dan’s appearance can be striking to most, but that doesn’t mean he’s a terrible person to be around — maybe Phil was just talking to him to be nice?

Okay, that was definitely what Phil was doing. But maybe he would be willing to help Dan out?

Dan was still in his thoughts when the middle aged man left and walked out the door, allowing for the heavy glass door to bang on the way out. He turned his attention back to his essay, and with a defeated sigh; he knew that his fifteen page paper was not going to happen when he was only on the seventh page now.

He was about to close his laptop down and pack up his things until he heard the squeaking of shoes come back over to him again. Phil plopped down on the other side of the booth and sighed, “I’m ready to go home and sleep.”

Dan nodded. “Yeah, me too. I should probably go and get some rest before my class.”

“Did you finish your paper?”

“Yes,” he lied.

Phil smiled at him. “I had faith that you could do it.”

Dan caught himself smiling as he packed up his items into his backpack. He zipped up his bag and was ready to stand up when Phil spoke up.

“It was fun to…hang out with you,” he said hesitantly, “if you can call this hanging out? Anyway, I enjoyed talking with you! Believe it or not, you made great company; even if you didn’t talk much.”

Dan nodded, at a loss for words. He looked down and realized he still hadn’t drank the drink that Phil had made. He went to grab it when Phil beat him to it and picked up the cup.

“Let me put this in a to-go cup!”

Dan watched as Phil hurried to behind the counter and dumped his drink into a cup and put the cover on it. He wrote something on the side of the cup with a black marker, and Dan couldn’t help but be curious of what it was.

When Phil came back over with the drink, Dan took it in his hand and adjusted his backpack, his body feeling weak from exhaustion.

“Come again, please!” Phil chirped.

Dan nodded and replied, “I definitely will.”

He turned around and headed for the door when he remembered that Phil had written something on the side of the cup. Looking at it, he found himself smiling at the note.

Enjoyed talking 2 U. +447911123456

Dan knew it was a cell phone number when he looked at it, and really, he was more than that Phil gave it to him.

Too bad he lied to Phil about finishing the paper that he was never going to do.

Dan wasn’t even slightly shocked when he got an email from his academic advisor three days after he attempted to complete his overdue essay. It was an urgent email that read he needed to make an appointment her—in her own words—“ASAP DANIEL.”

So he emailed her back, and they decided they’d meet at 3:45 pm on that Wednesday afternoon.

He walked into her office, taking a seat in the cushioned chair before relaxing back and expecting the worst to come out of her mouth. And sure enough, it did.

“Dan,” she started with her hands folded against the desk she was leaning on, “I just got emails from your professors — and you’re failing four out of your five classes.”

Dan felt his heart race in his chest: how could he failing almost all of his closing? From what he remembered, he was borderline-passing — right?

“And,” she continued without a pause, “unless you turn yourself around completely, as of right now, you’re going to fail out of university.”

He stared straight ahead at her, momentarily forgetting how words work. He never thought it was ever come to this; that he would go from getting in unconditional, to uni, to now flunking out.

“What can I do?” he finally said.

“Maybe get a tutor to help you if you’re struggling that much?” She asked sympathetically, “Our university offers great tutoring programs that you can join to get the academic help that you need.”

As soon as Dan got the email for the tutoring office on campus, he began to question if this effort was even going to be worth it. He knew that he didn’t want to be a lawyer, yet he was continuing with the program anyway. And furthermore, he didn’t even know if this would make any difference in the end if he wasn’t sure this was his path anyway.

But then his phone vibrated in his pocket and pulled it out, looking at the screen. It was a photo that Phil sent him of a design of a cat that Phil had made with special technique within the coffee. The caption with it was, look at the new trick I just learned!

And that is when everything clicked inside Dan’s head and his fingers worked faster than his mind.

To Phil: you said you have a degree, right?

From Phil: Yep! One in English language.

To Phil: Do you think you could help me out?

Dan gnawed at his lip as he waited for Phil’s reply. He was unsure if Phil was willing to help him, and he was honestly scared that he was going to look like a lost cause in front of Phil when all he wants to do is impress him.

Dan looked at the screen long enough to see the bubble with three dots pop up, meaning that Phil was typing and Dan would get his answer soon.

From Phil: With what?

It was then that Dan realized that maybe it would be easier to just meet Phil at work and explain it to him there. He knew that he couldn’t disrupt Phil when he was working; but if he was texting, that meant he was on a break of some sort.

He picked up the pace as he walked down the sidewalk towards the all familiar cafe. The heavy glass door once again seemed to stop him. He used most of his muscles to push it open, before cursing himself for not being in shape.

He spotted Phil right away. The raven-haired boy was sat at a booth, with a donut half-eaten on the table. Dan took a deep breath as he prepared himself to ask Phil this simple question; one that was now beginning to seem as a terrible decision.

“Hey, Dan!”

And no turning back now.

Dan smiled at Phil and rose his hand to wave at him and replied, “Hey.”

Dan slid into the other side of the booth across from Phil, trying to not act any more awkward than he probably already was.

“What did you need me to help you with?” Phil asked in his normal bubbly voice.

“Oh,” Dan spoke, trying to play it off. “So, um, I’m not doing good in uni right now.”

“Oh no!”

“Yeah,” Dan added, “and so…I need some help. You see, I’m failing majority of my classes and I…gosh this is embarrassing. I was wondering if you are feeling up to it…um, if you could look over my class list and see if maybe we took any of the same classes an––”

“Dan,” Phil interrupted him his ramble, “of course I can tutor you! What classes do you need help with?”

Dan opened his backpack and fished out his class list. He placed it on the table. Phil looked it over, reading through the classes and the descriptions of each before tapping his fingers against the wood.

Dan could feel himself becoming anxious as he waited for Phil’s answer. When it finally came, the relief seeped through his veins.

“I took three out of these five classes so I can definitely help you out!”

Dan smiled brightly, feeling the color go back into his skin. “That’s so great to hear!”

“I’ll see if I can find my old files of notes for these classes,” Phil said with a cheery attitude, “When did you want to start?”

“As soon as possible!” Dan chimed in. “I need the help as soon as you’re available.”

“Well, how does tomorrow evening sound?” Phil asked. “I’ll text you after my shift ends today to discuss the details. But as of right now, I need to head back to work, as my break is over.”

Phil stood up and shoved his phone inside his jeans pocket before taking the remaining bites of his donut.

“Talk to you later, Dan!” he spoke with a mouth full of donut.“Glad to be of help.”

Dan blushed and smiled as Phil turned his back and waltzed.

“Glad you’re willing to help me.”

Stuffing everything back into his backpack, Dan quickly threw the bag onto his shoulders. Glancing one last time behind him towards Phil, who was currently turned around behind the counter and putting together some frozen drink, Dan found himself smiling. Maybe his life would turn around after all.

Standing in front of the building, Dan looked over the address that Phil had texted him for the millionth time. He’s been looking at it since his taxi dropped him off here almost a half hour ago. Dan was nervous person by nature, so standing here was tweaking his anxiety in ways he couldn’t explain. His hard exterior was crumbling under the weight of his own fear of humiliating himself in front of Phil.

After finally deciding that the address was correct, he embarked on the three foot journey to the door of the building. Grabbing the handle, he sighed when it was locked. Looking around the outside, he found a voice box and looked over the names on the list besides the bottom. Phil’s name came up as “Lester, P.M” and because he was the only name with a P somewhere, Dan knew it had to Phil’s. Pressing the bottom, he heard the static before a matted, “hello?” came through.

“It’s Dan.” Dan spoke with a slight tremble in his voice.

“Oh, yes! I’ll unlock the door for you!”

Hearing the click of the door, Dan let go of his finger on the bottom and gripped the handle instead. The door freed easily and he walked inside of the building. He remember Phil’s directions in the text he was sent. He was told to take the stairs to the second level and he’ll be the first apartment on the right side. So he did exactly that.

At the top of the stairs, Dan stood for a moment to catch his breath before knocking on the door that read “2” in a brass number. Not even one knock in, Phil opened the door and greeted him with a hot chocolate in his hand.

“Hello!” Phil exclaimed cheerily, “I hope you like hot chocolate because I made it fresh just for you!’

Dan flashed a nervous smile before taking the drink in his hand and walking inside. As he took his first few steps in, he couldn’t help but notice how clean everything was. From the floors to the areas around him; everything was spotless. A bookshelf glistened against the wall next to a window with clean white curtains. The walls were a dull white that made the entire room seem huge even though Dan wasn’t fooled by the size. The kitchen, from the corner of it that Dan could see, was completely pristine and Dan felt a little shamed being there. He felt too tainted to be in such a pure, nice place.

“Okay,” Phil said breaking the silence. “I found my old notebooks, and I’m hoping that my notes will help us; so let’s begin!”

Both of them sat down on the grey couch that donned the center of the room. Dan took a sip of the hot chocolate, which scorched his mouth before he sat it down on the coffee table –– but not after Phil had threw a coaster with a corgi under the cup.

Digging through his backpack, he pulled all of his notebooks out and spread them on the coffee table carefully. He really hoped that all of this worked for him. He’s come too far now.

Nearly two hours and two hot chocolates later, both Dan and Phil are laying on the couch. They were tired beyond comprehension, and their minds were completely fried from the crash course that Phil had been giving. Dan’s brain hurt; he couldn’t tell if it was a good hurt or not, and he was ready to sleep for hours now. He felt like he learned a lot from Phil, so he hoped it would show when he went into class the following day.

“I could go for a drink,” Phil said, pushing himself off from the couch before padding across the living room to the kitchen. Dan waited in anticipation for Phil to come back with whatever he was grabbing –– Dan secretly hoped it was something strong. Much to Dan’s dismay, Phil came back with a bottle of white wine.

“Do you like wine?” Dan nodded and watched Phil pour two glasses full of wine, before bringing the drinks over to Dan. Taking the glass, Dan took a long sip of it and sighed with the content and he was already feeling relaxed from just knowing he was drinking wine.

“I wish I would have pursued my degree better,” Phil stated without a warning. He was swishing the alcohol around in glass and watching it create a mini hurricane against the sides.

“What do you mean?” Dan asked.

“I got my degree and then never did anything with it,” Phil stated, “Here you are, going to be a lawyer and you’ve got such a promising career path. And what did I do? I went for English and walked away with a useless degree.”

“I’m sure it’s not all that useless…”

“It clearly is when I’m working as a barista in a mediocre job when I could be a promising author or even a journalist.”

Dan furrowed his brows, “I’m sorr––”

Phil put his hand up and stopped him. “No, don’t be sorry for me. I just work in a shitty job and have to deal with shitty people and I make minimum wage.”

“Phil…”

Phil drank down his entire glass of wine and he slammed the glass onto the table, luckily not breaking it, before getting up and walking back into his kitchen. A few moments later, he came out with a bottle of whiskey and said lowly, “I need something stronger.”

While Phil was pouring himself a new glass of liquor, Dan felt something inside of him break. Seeing how down Phil was about his own degree made Dan suddenly think, ‘why the hell was he wasting all this money on something he didn’t even want?’

He didn’t want to be a lawyer. Hell, for the longest time he told his parents he wasn’t even going to university. So why was he still going? Why was he still doing this? It didn’t make any sense to him anymore.

“I’m sorry for suddenly getting so snappy,” Phil said with a chuckle. “This just brought up some memories for me. But I promise you that my college experience was great!”

Dan smiled at Phil before shrugging and replying, “It’s fine. I get those thoughts a lot too.”

There was a silence between them before Phil picked up his phone and sucked in a breath.

“Oh gosh, it’s already after midnight. Do you want to travel back to your apartment or would you like to spend the night here? You can borrow my clothes; we look about the same size.”

Dan felt a blush creep over his pale cheeks as he looked down at the floor. He knew it was just a friendly gesture because it was late and terrible things can happen at night, but Dan couldn’t help but think of it otherwise.

However, Dan had to admit that he didn’t feel like getting a taxi this late at night and risk sharing it with a drunk who might throw up on him.

“I’ll stay here,” he said, and quickly added, “as long as I’m not intruding!”

“Oh, of course not! Let me get you some pajamas!”

Abandoning his spot on the couch, Dan watched as Phil ran to the room behind them and rushed inside. After hearing some rustling on the other side, Dan watched Phil come out with a pair of superman pajama bottoms and a white shirt. He couldn’t help but chuckle because they were nothing like his normal attire.

“This is all I have that you would be remotely interested in,” Phil said with a laugh, “You can change in the bathroom. I’m probably going to finish my drink and then head off to bed. I forgot I had to be to work at six — I’m gonna be exhausted at work tomorrow. I’ll be gone before you even wake up, so you can invite yourself out whenever you’re ready.”

Dan nodded and thanked Phil before heading into the bathroom and undressing, putting on his ‘new pajamas’ instead. When Dan came back out, the couch was pulled out to show a bed that was already made up by Phil. Smiling, he got down onto the bed and curled up, just as he heard the movement of Phil in the bedroom behind him.

Dan had a dream that night; one where he was able to see his future quite clearly. And he wasn’t a lawyer. In fact, his dream involved the idea that he didn’t even complete university but he was happier than he’s ever been.

Which was why when he left for university that morning, Dan walked into the dean’s office and told him he was dropping out of university. He felt a giant weight that was lifted from his shoulders, and he couldn’t even believe that he hadn’t done this before. This was truly what he needed all of this time.

He walked out with a letter in his hand that said the simple phrase:

“On behalf of all of us in the department of law, we wish you the best in your future endeavors.”

Crumpling the letter in his hands, he threw it in his backpack and walked out with his head held high. However, the realization soon hit him.

What was he going to do about Phil? He has just dropped out of university and Phil was tutoring him. Doesn’t that mean that Phil won’t have to tutor him anymore? Well of course it did, though it would also mean that he’d have to see Phil’s disappointment that he gave up. But Dan didn’t really give up — he just realized that what he wasn’t doing what he wanted to do.

But he couldn’t tell Phil this. No, he had to keep up the charade so Phil wouldn’t be upset.

Which was exactly why Dan went back to Phil’s apartment that night and continued to be tutored. And he did the same thing for the next couple of weeks. He gave no hints to Phil that anything different had happened. Soon, Dan began to develop stronger feelings for Phil.

On one particular night of their tutoring, they were both sat on Dan’s couch in his apartment. It wasn’t anything like Phil’s, but it was still something. Dan’s papers scattered in front of him, and Phil was reading through some of his old notes. But Dan couldn’t help to notice the beautiful stare of Phil’s eyes on the paper. They were perfect blue and white orbs that looked like the ocean. When he moved, his black hair cascaded down his forehead and he tucked it impatiently back into place. Dan also noticed that when he concentrated, Phil would purse his lips a little bit, which made Dan went so badly to kiss him.

But he knew that doing so would be out of line. He didn’t even know if Phil liked him back. He could ask Phil on a date, but that would take so much effort; and if Dan got rejected in the end, what was it all worth?

“Are you still with me, Dan?” Phil asked with a chuckle. Dan snapped out his trance and laughed nervously.

He replied, “Sorry, my brain is a little fried.”

Phil relaxed his shoulders and dropped the paper onto the table along with the others, “Yeah, I’m gonna have to say the same.”

Phil looked at the time; it was already 10:30 pm. He sighed.

“I have to go to work soon,” Phil said. “My shift starts at midnight. I’m working a half-shift to cover for Louise, since she has a little one and can’t afford to be gone the full night.”

“That’s nice of you,” Dan commented before he could even think of his words.

And see, that’s where the other problem lies: Dan wasn’t like Phil in any way. He had this tough persona that took years to build after constant attacks from his classmates in school. He had built up this character because he was sick of the shit he was getting put through.

But Phil wasn’t like that. He was a soft-hearted man with the capability to be nice to every person he saw.

They would simply never work.

For the rest of their time together, they went back over some of the notes before Dan left the apartment to allow for Phil to get ready for work. On the way out, he spotted a couple walking by; they both looked like they had their lives together; something Dan never learned how to do, considering the absence of a good parental figures in his life. He resorted to cheap clothing he bought on sale, and he felt as if he was irresponsible in almost every sense.

But noticing that couple made something inside of him change. For Dan, maybe this pesona didn’t work anymore. He wasn’t getting anywhere in life by being like this: being a punk. He wasn’t going to get a stable job or do anything he wanted to.

It was time for a change.

As soon as he stepped foot into his apartment, he walked into the bathroom and took out a few of his piercings; just to see how he looked. When he didn’t like what he saw, he stuffed the metal back into place and went to bed.

Dan woke up the next morning at a decent time: 9:45 am. He was already struggling to stay awake, wishing that he could just go back to bed. Checking his phone that was laid on the opposite side of his bed, he saw a text from Phil:

From Phil: They convinced me to work a double so come visit!

Deciding that was as good of an ‘excuse’ to visit Phil, Dan quickly climbed out of bed, got dressed, and then left his apartment, walking the direction of the cafe.

When he arrived, he noticed that it wasn’t busy for this time of morning. Slowly pushing the door open, he could hear Phil’s voice clear as day…and Louise’s as well.

       “I can’t just ask him Louise, he probably doesn’t even like me that way.”

“Oh, come on, Lester, I’m sure he does,” Louise said. “Although I have to say that the punk persona is a little much.”

“Hey!” Phil exclaimed. “I like his persona. I think it’s cute because he such a nice guy.”

Dan blushed furiously at the conversation; one that he clearly wasn’t meant to hear. He turned around and walked out of the cafe, hoping he wasn’t noticed before sending a message to Phil.

To Phil: Something came up and I won’t be able to come to the cafe. Come over later tonight to make it up?

After a moment of time, Phil replied back.

From Phil: Sure!

Smiling brightly to himself, Dan headed back to his apartment where he ate some cereal and then ordered pizza for lunch as he waited for Phil to arrive.

“I’m so tired,” Phil stated, already morphing himself onto Dan’s couch.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said biting his lip. “You can leave if you get too tired.”

Phil shook his head and replied, “I’m fine, just complaining.”

Dan laughed, raising up his wine glass and taking a sip of it.

When Phil had arrived, Dan didn’t know what he should do. He had just heard earlier that Phil liked him, but he didn’t know how to approach the subject. Should he just ask Phil on a date, or would that be too forward? Does he tell Phil that he liked him? Now that he thought of it, that would be really forward too.

“You’re cute when you’re thinking,” Phil stated, suddenly moving forward on the couch, angling his body towards Dan’s.

“You think I’m cute?” Dan asked, a blush threatening his cheeks.

Phil nodded, “Dan, forgive me for just coming out with this, but I do like you.”

“I like you too.”

“No,” Phil stated, “I really like you, Dan. As in I want to be more than just friends. After speaking with my coworker today, I knew that I couldn’t deny my feelings for you anymore. I really, really like you.”

Dan watched as Phil began to move in, and suddenly their lips were connected into a kiss that was barely there, but at the same time, almost too much. Dan smiled to himself as he tasted sweets, coffee, and wine on Phil’s lips; he tasted just as how he imagined.

Phil’s hand came up, holding Dan’s jaw in place as the kiss deepened. Dan was in complete shock that this happened; he wasn’t sure if what he was doing was even okay. He had a few other kisses in his life, but nothing with someone he really liked and wanted to be with.

Phil pulled back from the kiss, both of them panting in heavy breaths. Before either one could process what to do next, Dan was leaning in and reconnecting their lips again. And with the unspoken agreement, both of them knew what was going to unfold that night as they got up and walked, still connected, into Dan’s bedroom. Phil shut the door behind them with the hand that was on Dan’s cheek and their night finally begun.

It was only during the middle of the night that everything changed. Dan was asleep, unknowing of Phil’s movements. Needing to go to the bathroom, Phil got up and padded around the apartment until he found it. Using the toilet as silently as possible, he headed back out before spotting something that caught his eye.

On the coffee table in Dan’s living room was a crumpled piece of paper that had a red-letter heading on the top. Phil didn’t mean to be nosey, but he found himself walking to the paper and picking it up. Uncrumpling it, his eyes skimmed the page and anger flamed inside of his body.

With a few silent tears running down his cheeks, he crumpled the paper back up and went back into Dan’s bedroom. He noted Dan sleeping peacefully in the bed, his lower half covered by a blanket after the amazing intimacy that they had shared. Phil felt sick. He bent down and grabbed his clothing, dressing as quickly as he could. On the way out, he contemplated leaving a note but instead he just shut the door behind himself and left.

Dan’s eyes opened the following morning, filled with exhaustion and bliss. Turning on his side, he looked around for Phil. But he noticed quickly that the other side of the bed was cold. Upset, Dan fought back tears before getting up and wrapped the blanket around himself, feeling suddenly exposed.

How could Phil had left him like a one-night stand? He thought last night had meant something?

Reaching around for his phone, he unlocked it, expecting Phil to say he had got called into work early. Instead, he was left with nothing. No explanation. But he needed to find out why Phil left.

Dan felt dirty. Used. Defiled. Any other synonyms of words that possibly meant any of the ones he was already thinking. He wanted to get up and scrub away the touches from Phil that had meant so much last night. He wanted to cry because he felt something so deeply with Phil and he didn’t want it to disappear.

He whipped the blankets off from his torso and stood up from his bed. Rushing around to find some clothes, he immediately got dressed and grabbed his cell phone again. Shoving the device into his pocket, he grabbed his wallet and walked out of his apartment.

He was going to find Phil.

The first place Dan thought to go was to the cafe, as Phil seemed to always be there. And of course, to his luck, Phil was there. He was stood behind the counter with his apron tied around his waist.

A sudden fire rushed through him, like venom coursing through his veins. He rushed to the counter and snapped, “Why did you leave?”

Phil’s head snapped up and he put on a fake smile.

“Dan, if this is about last night…”

“Of course this is about last night!” Dan yelled, beginning to make a scene. “How could you just leave me this morning like a cheap one-night stand?”

“This is not the time for this!”

“No, Phil, it is! I think I deserve an explanation!” Dan snapped, frustrated. “No messages? Not even a note? What about a voicemail? You couldn’t explain to me where you were going?”

“No, Dan, because I think it’s better that we don’t see each other right now.”

The words slapped Dan across the jaw, causing a sudden pain in his heart — one that he felt would be there for a while. He felt sick to his stomach because suddenly, this was becoming terrifyingly real.

“What…Phil…?”

“No, Dan,” Phil said, suddenly moving from outside the counter to face him. “I’m done with your lying. How could I? How could you? You used me and lied to me!”

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Phil!”

“Oh yeah?” Phil asked, tears welling inside of his eyes. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lead me to believe that you actually cared about the work I was doing with you? Why couldn’t you have just told me you dropped out of Uni?”

Dan stared at him, almost surprised.

“Because it was supposed to be…”

“Supposed to be what, Dan?” Phil asked, a tear sliding down his cheek.

Dan went to speak again when Phil lifted his hand up to stop him.

“No,” Phil spoke icily. “You know what? Maybe your persona fits you a little too well, Dan. You lied to me and led me on and I don’t like that. If you would have just came forward and told me, maybe I wouldn’t be forced to do this. But right now, I think it’s best that we don’t see each other.”

Dan felt his heart fall from his chest and shatter against the tiled floor. Phil wiped his eyes a few times before walking back behind the counter and throwing his apron on the granite surface and rushing into the back.

Dan looked around, noticing that everyone was staring at him because what just unfolded.

Maybe Phil was right. Maybe this entire thing was Dan’s fault.

Turning around and not making eye-contact with anyone, he quickly exited the cafe and headed down the street, ignoring the stream of tears that freely chased down his chin.

Back at his apartment, Dan stood in front of the bathroom mirror. His normal brown eyes were now swallowed in darkness, and the surrounding white was a bloodshot red from all the tears. His hair––which was perfectly straightened before––was now a disheveled mess. For a brief moment, he didn’t recognize the man looking back at him.

The first piercing falls onto the porcelain with a clank, and soon after, the next surgical steel bars follow suit. When all of the metal was laid around the sink countertop, Dan looked into the mirror and saw his image as a normal, clean cut teenager; one who just wants to find his place in life.

Taking the piercings in his hand, he opens his medicine cabinet and grabs an almost-empty pill bottle. Opening the top, he throws them in and then closes it, shoving the bottle away. Slamming the medicine cabinet shut, the mirror cracks like a spider-web.

Now he really didn’t recognize himself.

Walking out, he heads to his living room and goes for his secret cabinet of liquor under his coffee table. The last time he was in the cabinet was with Phil.

Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he cracked the top open and began to chug it. It burnt the entire way down his throat, and when he pulled away for air, he was choking and wincing. But he put the bottle to his lips again and drinks once more.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked it up to see that he had one missed call from his grandma; someone who he hasn’t spoken with in a long time. Unable to answer it, he instead grabbed his phone and contemplated texting Phil.

Maybe if he just texted Phil why he did what he did, everything would be fixed?

He opened the message app and his thumb hovered over Phil’s name, but he doesn’t have the courage to press it. Instead, he locked his phone and threw it somewhere across the room. He watched it land on the floor, and sighed. The bottle weighed heavily in his hand, and he took another swig.

Dan twitched from the cold air as he descends down main street, his boots scuffing against the pavement. His was coming from his first-ever job interview for a job at a local bookstore he applied for. He was pretty sure it went well; his mind told him it did anyway.

…Alright. So there’s a slight pang in his step. He pushed down the negative thoughts in favour of having a nice afternoon, and turned a corner down the street. He was going to pick up lunch from a pizza shoppe.

Seeing the familiar red awning, he walks under it and opens the main door. When he went inside, he was immediately hit by the scent of pizza. He was content like this; being able to walk into a place and not have everyone stare at him.

He was sure that some of the holes where his piercings were would close eventually, but he was okay with that; he learned to love himself without them.

Dan stepped up the counter, confidently saying his name for his order before hearing a soft voice echo it from behind.

“Dan?”

He turned around, looking for the person that the voice belonged too. Phil was stood in the back of the line for pizza. He was wearing a red sweater—one that appeared to have reindeer on it—and a pair of black skinny jeans. Dan could have laughed when he saw Phil; it was nearing the end of April, not December.

Grabbing his small pizza and paying the cashier, he walked back to talk with Phil.

“Hey,” he quietly spoke.

Phil smiled at him. “How have you been?”

“Good.”

“You took out your piercings…”

“I didn’t feel like they suited me anymore.”

“Look,” Phil began, “I’m sorry for snapping at you a few days ago in the café. I was upset that you hid that secret from me, but…but I get it now. I get why you did it. At the time, I was just so angry that I couldn’t think straight. But Dan…I really am sorry for that.”

Dan shrugged, “It’s fine…I mean, it’s not fine, but I’m glad you apologized. It means a lot actually.”

“What are you doing on this side of town?” Phil suddenly asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I had an interview at the Willow Root bookstore. I decided to stop by and get some pizza.”

A smile broke out on Phil’s face, “That’s awesome to hear! I got a job working for the newspaper now, and they let me off from work early. I thought I’d swing by and grab a pizza myself.”

Dan looked between the sizzling hot box in his hand, and Phil; who was stood in front of him.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment and split the pizza with me? I’m sure I won’t be able to eat it by myself?”

Phil smiled.

They were lying next to one another on Dan’s bed, both of their torsos wrapped in the duvet cover. Dan was nearly asleep, his body exhausted from what had occurred. Phil was laying next to him, looking at him with his bright blue eyes.

“You know, I was wrong about you,” Phil said softly. “Your piercings make you look beautiful. Why did you take them out?”

Dan swallowed nervously. “Because of what you told me.”

“Do you still have the piercings?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s put them back in,” Phil said sitting up. “You shouldn’t have had to change for me, Dan.”

Dan shrugged, feeling the sheet move down his body as he turned over.

“I don’t think I need to,” he answered.

“Why’s that?”

Dan sighed and replied, “Because you made me realize that I wanted to be a different person. When you said what you did, it made me see that I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore. I wanted to be someone different.”

Phil smiled at Dan and rolled over closer to him. “I’m glad that I helped you realize that.” He paused and added, “And I’m even happier that you walked into the coffee shop those few months ago.”

Dan smiled, because he was happier than ever now. He had Phil back in his life and he knew now that Phil was here to stay. He was content with all of this. With his new life filled with no piercings, and a new attitude that launched the rest of his adulthood.

And last, but not least, he was happy that his university’s coffee shop was closed that one day in February.

[machihunnicutt]

Fic-vember Day 2

I’m back y’all. Reminder that if you send me an idea for a oneshot it will be my day 3 post. Here’s chapter 2 of the fic from yesterday:

Bubble Tea and Feelings (vld klance fic)

Chapter 2: and Feelings

(Or read on ao3.)

"Shiro you're not taking this seriously," Keith said with venom.

He held up two different shirts for Shiro to look at through the screen. He and Matt were in a tent on a mountain somewhere but Keith didn't have any other friends to consult.

"Keith, they both look good. It's going to be fine no matter what you wear."

Matt poked his head in the tent. "Is this the date with Lance? Holy shit I didn't believe it when Pidge told me this is too good."

Shiro shushed him and Keith buried his head in his hands.  "Ignore him. Lance is a good guy. You're going to be fine."

"Shiro when was the last time I went on a date?"

"Um...not since high school right?"

He winced. "Yeah, not since sophomore year." He'd been too busy studying his ass off every minute since.

"Keith, relax. He likes you," Matt said from off screen.

"He what? Has he talked about me?" Keith felt his face go red. Shiro grinned at him before pulling his boyfriend into the frame.

Matt cackled. "Pidge is an excellent informant. It's going to be fine Keith. And wear the shirt on the right."

Shiro was like a brother to him. He was the first person he trusted. Shiro taught him that he didn't have to be alone.

"I'm being dumb right?" He asked in a small voice.

Shiro's gaze softened. "You're not being dumb. It's okay to be nervous about it. I was scared out of my mind when Matt asked me out the first time."

"You were?" Matt Holt's mess of hair tilted back into view.

"Are you kidding? Of course I was. You didn't notice how sweaty my hands were the whole time?"

"You think I noticed how sweaty your hands were when my hands were actually liquid?"

"Oh c'mon, it's not like I noticed that."

"Babe, you're actually changing the way I tell my 'how I met the love of my life' story."

"I'm the love of your life?" Shiro was blushing on the screen.

"Alright, so I've had enough of your romantic nonsense for tonight. Thanks."

Shiro smiled at him. He really missed him. "It'll be okay Keith. Trust me."

***

Pidge was on their break when Lance got the call. It was a slow morning. Lance had spent the majority of it staring out the window and thinking up endless ways this date could go wrong. The sharp ring of the phone didn't do much for his nerves.

"Hello, you've reached Holt Teahouse. This is Lance speaking."

"Oh, hello. I'm looking for Pidge Holt?" The voice was accented and hesitant.

"They aren't here right now sorry. I can take a message? Or you could call back in like 20 minutes. They'll be back from their break then."

"Thank you...um did you say this number is for a teahouse? I'm just a tad confused. I'm Pidge's advisor at the Garrison next year. They haven't been responding to my emails so I looked up the phone number on file and..."

"You're from the Garrison? Oh no it's all good. Pidge's family owns the tea house and they don't have a home phone so Pidge probably put this number figuring someone in their family would always be here." He laughed. It was a very Pidge thing to do.

"I see, so you know Pidge? I'm Allura. I graduated from the Garrison three years ago and now I work as an academic adviser. I hoped I'd get a chance to talk with them about their schedule and future academic goals before they arrived on campus."

"I'm sure they'd be happy to do that. Between you and me..." Lance lowered his voice in case Pidge happened to come back early. "I think Pidge is a little nervous about coming to the Garrison. They got picked on in middle school and their whole family has a history at the Garrison: Pidge's parents, their brother Matt, Shiro..."

"Pidge is related to Takashi Shirogone?" Allura actually squeaked. "He's quite honestly a legend."

Lance smirked. He knew Shiro was popular in high school...I mean, about as popular as a giant nerd could be. He was the captain of Science Olympiad and Matt's right hand at the helm of the national championship finalist Robotics team. He also played lacrosse and ran track and managed to take an actual record number of AP tests (scoring almost entirely 5s of course). Apparently his shadow still loomed.

"Well they aren't related by blood but Shiro's basically family. And I mean...if he marries Matt he actually will be family."

"You have a treasure trove of interesting information Lance," Allura said, sounding positively stunned. Lance thought maybe he'd said too much. He'd deny it if prompted but he loved bragging about his friends, even when it bordered on gossip.

The back door creaked open and Pidge came in, holding a container of French fries and looking a little pissed off. "Apparently I no longer look young enough to buy Happy Meals without being judged and questioned," they began before Lance interrupted.

"Hey gremlin, you've got a phone call. It's your Garrison adviser. Here they are Allura." Pidge instantly paled and reluctantly traded Lance for the phone. They took it into the bathroom and shut the door.

Lance was back to daydreaming by the time Pidge reappeared. They clicked the phone back into its dock with irritation and hopped up onto their usual stool.

"What was that all about?" Lance asked cautiously.

Pidge shook their head. "It's nothing she just wanted to talk about the Garrison. Move in day and what to expect and all that."

"Okay that sounds good. Why do you seem so angry?"

Pidge whipped their head up and glared. "I'm not perfect like Matt or Shiro. You know that right?"

"Pidge..."

They shook their head aggressively, arms crossed tightly over their chest and eyes lowered. Lance remembered seeing them with a similar expression the day of their middle school graduation. Lance had knocked on their bedroom door and fiddled when his tie.

"You okay?" He remembered saying. "Your dad wants us to go soon."

Pidge straightened the collar of their button down and gritted their teeth. "Let's just get this over with," they had said.

"What are you talking about?" Lance had replied. "It's gonna be great. You're going to high school. High school's like...way better than middle school. And like," he had stopped, feeling kind of dorky. "It's kind of rewarding walking across that stage. Even if it's not a real diploma."

Pidge's expression had lightened. "Alright. I trust you Lance. It you say it's going to be great then I guess it's going to be great," they smiled. Lance wished he could make Pidge smile like that again.

"No you don't get it," Pidge said, picking at the last of their fries and refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm not good enough. I'm just going to be made fun of and compared and probably misgendered too but that's a whole different can of worms."

"Slow down..."

"How am I supposed to be excited like everyone wants me to be when all I can think about is how I'm going to let everyone down and..."

"Pidge, stop."

Pidge blinked back their tears and Lance bridged the gap between them to give them a tight hug.

"You're not going to let anyone down. You're so much just by being yourself."

"You don't have to say that just because I'm crying."

"I'm not. You know I'm not."

"Well anyway. We should get back to work." They wiped their face with a napkin self-consciously. "I'm sorry I had a meltdown."

"It's only natural to be worried Pidge. That doesn't mean it's not all going to be okay."

"Thanks Lance."

"Any time Pidge."

He thought then that he should tell Pidge that they were his best friend. It wasn't something he'd said aloud. He didn't want to put too much pressure on them, especially since they were leaving for school soon. No matter what people told him Lance always felt like he was kind of a nuisance.

"Hey don't you have that date tonight?"

"And don't you have a phone call with Five or whatever his fictional name is?"

"His name is Seven and you should address him as Hacker God. Honestly though Lance please download Mystic Messenger. I need someone to scream about it with and Matt won't do it."

"Oh so I'm not even your first choice huh?"

***

Keith paced anxiously in his living room and shoved his hands in his pockets as if the answers were in there somewhere. They weren't. Lance would arrive any minute.

He ran through the same imaginary conversations he'd been having in his head since this morning. Imaginary conversations were enough to make his palms sweat tonight. Somehow he always ended up sounding stupid.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey," Lance smiled an easy smile that made Keith fractionally less nervous. "You look nice."

"Thanks...I um, you look nicer." It was odd seeing him outside of the apron, in a shirt with a collar even. The sleeves of his blue button up were rolled to his elbows and his jeans were worn thin at the knees and cuffed in a way that highlighted his converse. He was just the right amount of dressed up and down that put Keith at ease.

"I thought maybe we could grab some pizza? My friend is the chef at this place near by that's really good. I mean I don't know if you're in the mood for pizza. Or if you like pizza. I guess there are people who don't like pizza right? Or they can't eat it for some reason..."

"I'm good with pizza."

The restaurant was warmly lit and smelled like fresh garlic and tomatoes when they got near the kitchen. The hostess recognized Lance and eagerly led the two of them to a booth.

"I'll tell him you're here," she said.

"Thanks Shay. I appreciate it."

Lance looked at home in the plush booth. He leaned his elbows on the table and slid a menu in Keith's direction.

"Your pick. Unless you want a salad or something. Or you're heathen who likes pineapple on their pizza."

Keith could feel his face heating up so he looked down.

"Oh shit, you are aren't you? I didn't mean it man." He looked nervously wide eyed for a second before Keith laughed.

"My go to is pineapple, yes. I already knew I was a heathen though." Lance grinned at him and Keith felt warm again. "I'm not picky. I'm fine with anything," he amended.

"I'd say. You've ordered just about everything on the Holt Teahouse menu."

“Yeah, well whose fault is that?”

Lance leaned forward on the table, elbows encroaching on Keith’s space and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin. “I’m still finding it hard to believe that you bought all that boba just so you could see me. No one really...I mean I guess I’m usually the one who makes the move.” He was looking him straight in the eye, honest, as the last traces of his teasing tone dissipated. Keith could see the freckles on his nose. They were probably from the sun. Lance looked like he belonged in the sun.

Keith hadn’t been on a date in years for several reasons: 1) There wasn’t really the time. He never went out because he needed all the studying time he could get. Even when he didn’t need to be studying he invented something to study for to dodge Shiro’s invitations. Studying easily became a cover for the fact that he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Shiro said he didn’t have a good work and free time balance . 2) He was bad at reading people. As Lance leaned forward he tried to deconstruct everything that had happened in the 20 minutes they’d been out and figure out whether or not he was making a complete fool of himself yet. And 3) Keith wasn’t sure he was a person worth dating.

So it was odd to be faced with the same brand of nervous insecurity that he felt 95% of the time. Especially when it came from someone who seemed a lot more in control than he was.

“Lance, I…”

“Hey Lance, how’s the teahouse?” They were interrupted by a man with an apron who looked like he was made of sunshine and Keith quietly shrunk.

“It’s great Hunk, you should stop by sometime. I can get you a discount.” Lance winked exaggeratedly.

Hunk laughed. “I might take you up on that. I’m sorry for intruding though.”

“Oh, right, Hunk this is Keith. Keith this is my friend Hunk.”

They exchanged pleasantries and Hunk took their order while he was there, promising that the food would be out quickly.

“Your friends seem really nice,” Keith said, once he’d gone. Pidge too, had seemed like someone worth getting to know.

“My friends are awesome,” Lance said with a grin. “The best part of spending the summers here is that I get to see everyone. It’s funny, because when I get back to campus all I can draw is the teahouse and Pidge and Hunk and Matt. All my inspiration is here.” He leaned in again. “But don’t tell them I said that. It’ll go to their heads.”

The pizza came and Keith convinced Lance to try a piece with pineapple, which he begrudgingly admitted wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Lance showed him some of the art he had pictures of on his phone and Keith laughed at the absurd joy in the eyes of the Holt siblings who he’d drawn pouring intensely over a game of Yahtzee. The pieces in color were vibrant and larger than life: the sunset bleeding into the forms of his friends along the horizon, a cup of bubble tea with miniature mermaids in teals and purples swimming among the boba that looked more like pearls, a lion done entirely in blues yawning lazily like a house cat. Keith groped for the words to compliment him, but he was never very artistically minded and everything he said didn’t feel quite right. Lance’s work was beautiful but it was more than that. He , was more than that.

“Do you want to get ice cream or something?” Lance asked carefully after they’d paid. “If you’re too tired I totally understand I’m just having a nice time so…”

“I’m having a nice time too. Ice cream would be great.”

It was only a couple blocks to the nearest ice cream place. They walked slowly, and when Keith got too nervous to look at Lance he looked up at the stars instead. And it was nice. It was nice and easier than he thought it’d be.

“Shiro’s kind of right about me being a hermit,” he muttered after they’d ordered (cookies and cream for Keith, peanut butter chocolate for Lance.) “It’s my fault I didn’t meet Matt or Pidge or you sooner. I kind of...close myself off sometimes.”

“Well you’re studying right? No one can blame you for having a lot of work to do. That’s why you’re here,” Lance said gently. His ice cream was melting off the cone and he turned his head to the side to chase the mess of chocolate before it got to his hand.

“Yeah, you’re right I just...nevermind, this is probably too much to get into when we hardly know each other.”

“Dude, you can’t just say that and not finish your thought. Also, we’ve known each other all summer technically.”

Keith laughed and stole a glance at him. His eyebrows were furrowed as if in preparation to think very hard about whatever Keith was going to say next. Keith looked back up at the deep blue of the sky.

“I think I use school as an excuse a lot of the time. I think it’s just easier to make myself too busy for other people so I don’t have to worry about letting them in and letting them hurt me.”

“You think people are going to hurt you?”

“Not right away maybe but…”

“Eventually? Do you think I’m going to hurt you eventually?” He stopped. “Assuming there’s an eventually I guess.”

Keith shook his head aggressively. “No, maybe. It’s just scary to risk it. It’s easy to be alone.”

Lance considered this for a moment. The silence hung while Keith questioned every stupid, overly personal thing he’d just revealed about himself in the past 30 seconds.

“I think it’s worth it though,” he said at last. “To let people in. I think that even if you get hurt you get happiness and love and people to talk to, you know?”

“I’m trying...I’m trying to know.” Keith laughed. “That sounds so stupid but it’s all I’ve got.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that.”

“No, I mean it. It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” Lance hesitated. “Could I maybe draw you really quickly?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook and stub of a pencil.

“Me?” Keith felt his face go red. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I want to remember this conversation.”

“Okay.” He looked over at him and saw that his hands were already moving, face scrunched up in concentration as he drew.

Keith listened to cars go by and bugs making noises and the faint echo of the radio from inside the ice cream shop and then Lance started talking, eyes still focused on his drawing. “I think I have the opposite problem. I get so attached to people that I start to worry.”

“About what?”

He stopped and looked up at him for a second. “I don’t think people like me as much as I like them. Sometimes I feel kind of useless.”

Keith couldn’t imagine why someone like Lance would feel useless.

"From what I've seen it seems like there isn't anyone who doesn't think you're great." He tripped over the double negative but recovered. "Everyone likes you...myself included."

Lance smiled and it wasn’t the unrestrained grin from earlier. It was small and hopeful and a little insecure.

“Thanks Keith.”

***

“If I commission you will you draw me Seven?” Pidge was balancing on the stool by the outlet again, scrolling through something on their phone.

“Seven what?” Lance asked distractedly, he was focusing on not spilling tea everywhere.

“Seven the character from Mystic Messenger,” Pidge said exasperatedly. “I know you don’t care now that you have a boyfriend and all but this is important so…”

“Keith’s not my boyfriend. We went on one date.”

“Yeah whatever. You’re gonna get a boyfriend and stop hanging out with me and I’ll have to be fine with it because I can’t get mad at some guy who gets you excited enough to call me at 1 a.m.”

Lance swatted them with his free hand. He had called Pidge at one last night to recount all the details of the date. He’d intended to wait until morning but he couldn’t sleep. And thanks to that stupid game they’d been up anyway.

“I’m not even. I wouldn’t just stop hanging out with my best friend.”

Pidge tilted on the stool and set their phone down. “I’m really your best friend?”

Lance frowned. “Yeah, of course you are.” It was something he should've said a long time ago, but apparently this was the summer of laying feelings directly on the table. Their age difference had always made their friendship a little odd. Pidge would complain about middle school while he tried to assure them that high school was better and when they ran into Lance’s or Pidge’s other friends at the movie theater they often thought it was a babysitting situation. But it never mattered to Lance.

“You’re my best friend too,” they said, adjusting their glasses.

He set down the pitcher of tea. “Look, I know you’re worried about high school and fitting in and Matt being the golden child and all that but I think you’re forgetting that you’re the most badass person I know.”

Pidge scoffed.

“No seriously, you’re just unapologetically yourself and that’s so brave and so rare. You’re ahead of the curve. Everyone else will catch on eventually.”

“And then I can be their god?” Pidge laughed sardonically.

“Sure, you can be their god you weirdo.”

They hugged their knees to their chest atop the stool. “You really think it’ll be alright? Allura was nice and all but every time she calls about advising stuff I just freak out.”

“It’ll be alright. I promise. And I’m just a phone call away.”

As if on cue the teahouse phone rang. Lance glanced at it knowingly and Pidge answered it. “Holt Teahouse this is Pidge. Oh hi Allura. Yeah, I have a minute.” They made their way to the bathroom, giving Lance a small salute.

Three hours later, after a slow day of limited sales, Lance was nearly dozing off at the ordering window. Pidge was looking through the high school course catalog with more interest than before. He jumped when he heard him.

“Hey Lance.” Keith was right in front of him, leaning his elbows on the counter. He had a huge smile plastered on his face and he wasn’t alone.

“Jesus Christ asshole when did you get back?” Pidge burst forth, jumping out of their seat and leaning through the open window to hug their brother.

“Whoa, language,” he laughed. “We just got back an hour ago. It was a nonstop flight.”

“Surprise,” Shiro said, slinging an arm over Keith’s shoulder. “I hear you two have met?” He said, gesturing between Keith and Lance.

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “I think we’re going to get to know each other a lot better too.”

Lance felt dizzy with happiness even when Pidge started teasing him and Shiro tousled Keith’s hair and the five of them ended up in a smooshed group hug that ended quickly but felt like it lasted all the way through Shiro’s recounting of their trip (punctuated by Matt reenacting the most dramatic moments) and Pidge explaining the entire plot of Mystic Messenger to Keith who listened patiently and interjected with questions of his own and it didn’t leave until he was in bed that night, staring up at his ceiling and listening to his own heartbeat. His phone pinged and he stared at the glow of the message in the dark.

Keith: See you tomorrow. :)

There was still plenty of summer left. Even when it was over they’d be okay. It would all be okay.

[doktorcrimson]

I still can’t believe I fucking got into med school

In my previous post I mentioned I got accepted into medical school, and damn I still can’t believe that happened (  ﾟДﾟ)

DOKTOR CRIMSON IS ACTUALLY GONNA BE DOCTOR CRIMSON WAT

I was looking at American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) data sheets earlier and HOLY COW I can’t believe how lucky I am to even be offered an acceptance! Not to mention that I got into one of my top choices, a wonderful school with excellent academic programs and diverse patient populations. I am truly grateful to be in this position and so proud of myself...

FUCK YEAH DOCTOR CRIMSON!

Keep reading if you don’t mind me rambling.

Just to give a rough idea how competitive MD programs are in the US. There are roughly 150 accredited MD schools total. Usually a school receives a few thousand applications per year. Some schools may receive 10k+. Schools only accept enough to fill a class of about 100 students (some schools accept more, some schools accept less). That means the average acceptance rate for med school is about 5%. If you compare this to applying to college, you are literally applying to Harvard everywhere.... Out of 53042 applicants total in the US, only 21030 get accepted somewhere. That means 60% of applicants don’t get in anywhere every year, and that’s quite scary.

I had no fucking idea if I would get in or not. Like many have said, this process is literally a crapshoot (;o;)

The school I will be attending this fall had about 8k+ applications total. They only accept enough to fill a class of roughly less than 200 students. That’s a little more than 2% of all applicants for this school....

HOW THE FUCK DID I BECOME THE 2%??? Like I checked the facebook page for my class and I saw people who went to college at Harvard, UPenn, Princeton etc.?

I guess hard work does pay off and I’m not too dumb haha (ﾟ∀ﾟﾉ)ﾉ

So lemme talk about my application process last year. There’s a forum called Student Doctor Network (SDN) that I usually go to for resources applying to med school. People who post there are typically higher achievers compared to average applicants. When I was on the waitlist, seeing people getting multiple acceptances and even having the luxury to decide between school A vs. B really got me at the low point. 

I submitted 26-27 primaries back in July but ended up only being complete at 23 schools due to budget. Unlike some superstar applicants I didn’t get an early interview in August/September nor did I get an outright acceptance mid-October. My first interview came from my state school in October and I got my second interview in November. Normally my state school would be my best bet in getting into medical school since they have an in-state preference. However, my state school interview resulted in a rejection right before my second interview (like the decision was made literally a week before). 

I cried like an idiot that day and the following day. I didn’t want to tell anyone and I thought getting into med school was over for me. I got rejected by my state school, the school with the highest probability of being accepted at all. How am I supposed to get in a school that is ranked much better and more competitive than my state school? Honestly, I fucked up that interview myself and I knew what I did wrong (I regretted it right after I did it). I walked out of that interview feeling rather miserable and uncertain. Also part of it was because I was inexperienced and probably should’ve prepared more for my first interview. But still, it hurt, and it hurt a lot. Even today whenever I think about it, it’ll always an opportunity I missed. If I did get accepted to my state school, things would be very different right now.

I was lost. I finally decided to tell only one person, my good senpai and friend, who also happened to be an MD-PhD student. He told me to do a mock interview if possible. So I did it, got some feedback. Didn’t feel like I’ve improved much but more practice is always better. I went to my second interview with a much-relaxed attitude. My second interview was at the school that eventually accepted me and was the 2nd or 3rd school I wanted to go to out of my top choices (my #1 choice rejected me pre-interview haha). It felt really different than my first interview. I actually liked the school better despite I didn’t know anyone in the area nor did I have many ties to the school. I could tell my conversation between me and my interviewer was much better than my first interview. He even asked me about my art and con experiences, which probably had some influence in getting me an acceptance. I drew him a little sketch doodle with a person sitting in a coffee mug at the end of my interview. I walked out feeling confident, and the rest of the interviews I attended never gave me that same feeling.  

It then became a long wait until February when I finally received more interviews. But then again it was late in the cycle, I didn’t have much hope getting into those schools. I was placed on the supposedly high priority waitlist from the 2nd school I interviewed at the same month. After attending those other interviews, I knew the 2nd school, one of my top choices out of all schools, would be my best bet getting in at that point. With the help of a friend editing, I submitted an update letter within the same day I received the wait list status.

It was then another long wait. After May 1st med school traffic day, I was anxiously waiting for waitlist movements. A batch of waitlist acceptances had gone out the first week for the 2nd school I interviewed at. If I couldn’t get in somewhere during May, I would have to prepare for another application cycle. I was also looking for a new job at the same time since my current job didn’t pay much, let alone the fact I needed more money if I had to go through this application process again. I was extremely stressed. Other schools I interviewed at also threw me on their waitlists. My relationship with my family wasn’t great at that point either. I wanted to give up so much. I kept thinking: what did I do wrong this cycle? My GPA and MCAT definitely weren’t the factors keeping me out of med school. I had a good amount of clinical experience and research. My other extracurriculars weren’t extraordinary, but it did have some uniqueness. I guess it was it my interview? I mean, I’m not the most talkative person but I think I’m alright in small conversations. I admit I’m rather low energy compared to even a lot of other introverts, but how would I improve that next time? Should I just give up?

I was ready to meet with my pre-med advisor that Saturday morning for a new committee letter. I decided to check my email once more before I left the door.

HOLY GOD OF CHEESECAKES I DON’T HAVE TO APPLY AGAIN ANYMORE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA

And that’s my med school application year in a summary.

Big hugs and gross smooches to @theathelier~ I literally would’ve never made it to med school without your essay edits and emotional support! You know how upset I was those months before May. I tend to not show it in front of others but deep inside I was struggling very hard. I had some really negative thoughts at some point (really negative thoughts) but I keep thinking about you and other friends who have shown me support (yes, thank you @phoodledoodles for starting a med school specifically for me with a 1:1 student to faculty ratio and guaranteed nap time every day if I didn’t get in). I would’ve felt so guilty if I didn’t get in this cycle because all the effort you put in reading my essays QAQ Love you and I will make my best attempt to visit! *we still need to go to that pho place together*

@phoodledoodles @aeryecho I love you both, too <3

I’d like to mention @shinionlydrawsfreestyle for being my secret role model during my application cycle haha *senpai plz notice me face* I actually remember you on SDN from last application cycle (along with bananafish haha), I never expected to find your tumblr page. At first I felt yeah I’m probably the only weeb trash artist that does cons and digital art as a hobby while pursuing a main career that’s not even remotely related. And then I was searching “reviews for acrylic charms” and I found your blog and I read your bio that you said you were a med student and I went HOLY CRAP I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE. 

Congrats on finishing MS1 and good luck next year studying step 1, senpai!

Ah if my secondaries were like this post I would’ve never gotten in med school :P Thanks for reading if you got this far.

Love and Peace~

[phoenixshaman]

Everything is terrible and I will now complain at length.

My life seems to be crumbling about me and there is little I can see that I can do about it, if I’m honest its been a slow degradation for years (based on recent revelations probably since ‘86), the kind of slow erosion that comes with ‘putting a brave face on’ and not actually being honest with yourself or others about the issue until it’s far too late, but it is only in the last decade or so that the ground beneath me began to fall away.

2007/2008- Is where life started to put the boot in, in earnest, sure my childhood was constructed of a cycle of continual abuse and denial, but there was at least the lack of serious responsibilities that were mine. 3rd year of my degree, placement year, I’d managed to get a placement actually digging, the thing I really wanted to do, I knew it was going to be hard work, I was ready for that, what I wasn’t ready for was everything else.

During the interview I swear blind they told me it would be better to stay in my current student digs and commute, otherwise I would have found a place or stuck with the archiving placement I had (the job I had been looking forward to least, and enjoyed most), but when I started working they asked me why I hadn’t gotten a place in town like the others; so I was grudgingly told to come in a hour late as I was having to commute 2 hours each way. I was commuting by train, and despite my best efforts there is only so much I can do when the trains regularly ran late, if I were to got an earlier one I would be leaving at the same time I would have had to to get there the same time everyone else was, every minuet I was late was held over me, “I checked the timetable and it said it wasn’t running late, so you can’t tell me that is why you weren’t here on time”, despite the fact that the web page doesn’t or at least didn’t work like that, it didn’t update in real time. I did my best to work hard to make up for it, pushing myself more than was perhaps healthy, I constantly got sent to the far edges of the site or the less important ones, partly because the others hung out with the superiors after hours (I had to leave directly after work or I had an hour wait in a cold section of station for the next train) so wanted to work together, partly because later on as everything began to wear me down I began to make mistakes. I ended up on the one section of site that didn’t get sun and stayed frozen all day, while the others dung in slush, I had to mattock off the topsoil, and then literally froze to the ground while working. As it went on I began having trouble getting to work, constantly feeling exhausted, the site’s placement manager kept asking if I was on meds, as it turned out the student accommodation I was living in had an integrated vent system, and the people who were stealing my food (like all of it constantly to the point I lived off of cans I kept in my room), were also blowing their pot smoke into the vent thinking they were getting rid of it, but actually just spreading it everywhere else (the building managers just ignored our complaints), I would get in at a little past 7pm go straight to bed, they would spark up at 11, I would get stoned in my sleep then had to get up at 5am to get to the station, while feeling like shit, vomit on the way there (every day), and go to work where I was given the shit jobs and made to feel like I didn’t svn deserve them. I discovered the problem when I got in late one day, reported this to my manager, who accepted my report but clearly thought I was just smoking and lying about it, I got put on revue a few months in, told if I didn’t improve they were ceasing my contract, the main part being I could never be more that 15mins late (unless there was something obvious like the flood that they couldn’t deny mad me late), and I threw my all at it, I really wanted this job, I ran from the station each day, I got put on office work digitising all the hand produced plans, and collating all the data collected, within a week (or possibly 2) I had taken the stack of leaver arch folders and transferred them all, I worked faster than any of the others that occasionally joined me, but no less accuratly, to the point where they just left me to it and reassigned the others, in all that time there was one day I was later than the 15min allotted because there was trouble on the line, but it was not reported on the site so I was lying, at the end of the revue period (either a week or a month I am not sure anymore) I was told that I still wasn’t trying hard enough, and clearly didn’t want this job and at the end of the week I was being fired. Perhaps I would have fought that harder if it were not for the fact I had spent all the meagre grant I got that year and all my savings, I literally did not have enough to keep coming into work, the next day I was even planning on handing in my notice, which I did, and the bloody manager let everyone believe I left because I didn’t want to be there, didn’t mention they were going to fire me, didn’t mention I had run out of money, so whenever I ran into any of them I kept getting asked when I was coming back or why I didn’t want to, I broke my spirit to be turned away, it broke my heart that I couldn’t go back.

My dissertation proposition was accepted tun immediately changed by my tutor making all the work I had don in preparation over the last year (that I might add we were only told we /should/ have ben doing the next year) completely invalid, in fact what I was actually doing was not what I submitted (and I have a suspicion my idea was given to a masters student), but the research paper my tutor was supposed to have written, he then changed the topic on me three times, the last ‘because I was struggling’ was just to academically tear apart a book they disagreed with, which they tun proceeded to leave for a month with the only copy available (it was a niche german translation that was his personal copy, as there wasn’t on in the library system). I failed the year on two points; the first unsurprisingly was the dissertation th second was due to something that had happened in second year, a group project; we had had to submit the time spent on a presentation for each person, one person without telling anyone had summated it, claiming that I hadn’t done much as I only had to make the power point, (the fact that I had to do all the research for it as none of them had done theirs until the night before meaning that I would not have been able to make it if I had waited was ignored), I went to see the lecturer he basically told me I was making a fuss over nothing and told me not to report it, I didn’t and failed that module because of it.

After I failed my dissertation I decided to seek help from the education aid people. I had gone in my first year the test had crashed on me but instead of restarting thy told me to continue, then based on that info look at the below average english and maths and the way above average comprehension and told me that the percentages were balanced out so they wouldn’t help me, as I wasn’t ‘bad enough’, because of my comprehension they expected me to scrape by, instead of helping me excel. When I went to see them that second time they denyed ever seeing me, turns out my second year a new system and staff came in but no one had bothered to tell returning years, so just told me I should go do the self assessment program that I /should/ know about, so I did and the next day received a panicked email to come in. and so began the most hurried passage through paper work and assessments, in the most frenzied arse covering I had ever seen, they fucked up and knew it, and I’m pretty sure the only reason they passed me (at the bare minimum) was so I couldn't sue or apply to redo the year (which the uni would have to pay for).

The Student loans contacted me during my dissertation year, told me that I shouldn’t still be in education, long story short the entire year was a battle with them (which really helped with the academic struggle), they fucked up my paperwork 3 times until they could ‘legitimately' re-asses me by the new pay scale and then demand a thousand pounds ‘over-pay’ back, I had to red submit a copy of the original signed agreement before they would admit the fuck up was theirs, they almost stopped me graduating by refusing to pay the last instalment for my course, then proceeded to lose the proof every year after and harass me for the money until I resubmitted it, until on year after a move I couldn’t find the paperwork.I kept getting them contacting me every few months to see if I had a job yet, constantly intoning that I legally had to tell them if I did, implying they thought I was hiding it, constantly referencing the signs agreement, I constantly bit my tongue from pointing out they had already reneged on their side. Finally my parents set up the minimum pay per month to get them off my back, but they still contacted me every year to ‘check I could be paying more’ despot being explicit ally told to remove my mobile no and given alternate contacts they still phone me, even when my father went on record with them saying I tried to kill myself (which was partly untrue, though not entirely) so stop calling that no. use the one he supplied.

Once I graduated I tried to find work, eventually I was forced to sign on, I applied for all the jobs that were viable in the first week, and spent the next few meetings being threatened with sanctions as I had not applied to the minimum I was set, regardless of the fact they had not got any new listings, it was in that time one advisor asked why I didn’t apply for a job at a pharmacy as it had training, I had to point out that in the spec it required a degree in pharmacy. I got chucked from employment initiative, to initiative, pretty much always either the oldest, the one with the most qualifications, or both, I restructured and re wrote my CV so often I had around 8 different variations, each purportedly the ‘best version’. Finally I got chucked to the government program that paid places (specifically not for profits and community programs) to employ people, I got taken on to archive the records of the incredibly old local theatre, but in practise redecorated rooms, worked box office, ushering, tech, display, and trued desperately to keep the records and artefacts safe from the skipping clear outs, or the artist’s collective that had previously used original 30’s score sheets as wallpaper. I loved my team and the building, the management was a shambles and the manager a crooked fucker who was skimming the theatre’s funds and staffing his business with those supposed to be working at the theatre, part of the employment initiative was that if you found staff that worked well you could fill a form and keep them on and the council would keep paying them to do so, but he worked out he could get more by overlapping the employment, taking on new staff a few weeks early so ‘the old staff can train them’, considering the money that was allocated to send us to training had mysteriously never appeared, we were all working untrained and unlicensed, and I suspect in several cases illegally. We were told by both dole and theatre that if we keep volunteering we may get jobs later, several months down the line I nearly lose my isa because they never issued me a p45, and that I was volunteering more hours that was legal without pay so- they were going to stop my money because I was doing enough work to justify pay but wasn’t being paid, and this was my illegal action not the place refusing to pay me, so they were going to take my benefit away for being used.

While I was working I had one landlord decide that after owing it, they would rather than renew the contract with a name switch (one person out new person in) that they wanted a new contract, but to do that we had to move out of the house for a week before we could start a new contract, which would leave us with nowhere to go for a week so we had to start looking for a new place for when the contract was up, this was the week of xmas, the contract ended in January/February. I managed to, with a couple of people I knew from Uni find a shitty place in the run down part of town, I spent the entirety of my inheritance on the exorbitant safety deposit & first 3 months rent required upfront, & white goods for the unfurnished place. That place broke me, partially the problem was personality clashes, but what person waits till the weekend someone goes away, to text them once they are away, to say they have decided to unpack your stuff and throw things they decide are rubbish away without your convent or presence? I lost stuff while there, the move had ben so fast I had just had to sling stuff in black bags, they had a habit of half filling rubbish sacks and leaving them lung round, then grabbing what they thought was a bin bag and chucking it, not to mention when I finally moved out deciding some of my stuff was theirs.

So I go to York because my parents have been paying my rent and figure moving me in with my brother will be cheeper, and my uncle has paid my fees to go  back to Uni in york and try to retrain, so I have to be there anyway, we find a nice place, find an uneasy equilibrium. Only the rent is more than expected, my brother changes job and it pays less, parents too are having a hard time, especially when they get broken into (because the neighbour leaves the gate open that lets them in to the back, then when the banging starts assumes they are workers because they wear gloves, and he is a fucking moron.) So while I am trying to manage Uni we start getting pressured to find a new place, weekends being dragged around places far out of town, finally we settle on the least objectionable (or so we thought at the time) place, it is (supposedly) agreed that we will take the move slow, allowing us to decorate and move things in and unpack systematically so we don’t end up living around boxes. The guy trashes the place before he goes, still haven’t fixed all, then after a few weeks of spending a weekend trying to organise we are told that we are moving when the rent contract comes up for renewal (it was a monthly one) in a few weeks, that we should have finished sorting the place by now somehow between my uni work and his actual work (his then job being rally crappy for overworking him), so during the time when I had to be doing work for all of my courses (they issued it all at once quit often) I instead had to throw things into boxes and mov into a half done house. Then my father decided instead of letting me build our ikea kitchen or pay ikea to install to get a cowboy in who constantly needed watching and still fucked it up, I got bad grades that term unsurprisingly.

I was getting academic help in my first year, and I was explicitly told that I didn’t ned to re-apply each year, that was a lie, they also failed to tell me that they could back pay after application so instead of going almost a year without help because I couldn’t handle the work, the move, and the form all together, I could have seen someone to help me apply. When the form was finally sorted 2/3 of the way through they didn’t give me help for the last 3rd when I really needed it, someone fucked the paperwork up and applied it to the next year instead of the one I was in. Then the course I was on was slowly bing dismantled, lecturers were unprofessional, and I got repeatedly stuck with a group that did no work took all the credit and gave me all the blame.

The house is too small for the two of us really, I don’t have any storage because while we were out father bought a mattress off the back of a lorry for a bed that I wasn’t going to use as it filled the room, but the money for a new bed just went on that mattress, so I lived with things stacked in piles on the floor, most stuff was in the living room, most stuff was still in boxes as neither of us had the time or storage space to unpack. The my father decided he liked York transferred his job here without discussing it and moved him and my mom into the living room ‘temporarily’. It took almost 4 years for them to find a place to move into (selling the only family home I had ever known, again the actual move was in a rush without time for the rest of us to deal with things properly, things were left behind that I now try not to think about).

But those intervening years worsened my personal brain glitches, that began forming during that terrible placement year, to the point that I can only make my environment worse, I don’t have the capacity to ‘fix’ things, because it takes all my energy to not focus on the things that affect me; the kitchen doesn’t work right, the lights are mostly piped, the bathroom is full of mould and often sprinkled with other peoples hair clippings, my nice mild sented soap is impregnated with my brother’s lynx and my father’s shower gel that makes my seances hurt, my room feels like it closes in on me, the mattress & the sofa bed are both broke so wherever I sleep I hurt. I can’t cope with anything, and just freeze up, I don’t have the spoons to fill out the isa forms and honestly think I would die if I had to go back there, I grid to apply for jobs but it just wasn’t happening, finally the last of my confidence went when: the day after a row that ended with me walking out of the house, then being dragged back by police as a missing person, I crashed with friends, and knowing I needed to get out, and as such needed a job, took a cv in to a store a friend worked at and knew were going to be looking soon, I went all over town that day looking. a few days later I stopped back in just to check the cv had gotten to the manager (whom I also knew) and was told that I had somehow ‘left a bad impression’ by quietly asking someone at the till to leave a cv at the desk so I wasn’t loitering in the store waiting for them to get back, and would not be even getting an interview.

I hav always had ups and downs, but recently I only seem to have downs and plateaus, I am supposedly on a waiting list for help after the police intervention but it has been a year, and nothing other than an offer to join a drugs trial that may cause suicidal tendencies (no thanks). I hurt all over, am always tired, have had constant problems with my digestion and intestines since infancy, but always get dismissed for being over weight despite the fact it seem increasingly likely that my weight is a symptom. I have a lump on a tendon that always hurts but have been told is nothing, the last time I sought help instead of what I was there for got lectured bought my weight, despite the fact that I was there because I hurt myself being active and eat a mostly pescetarian (and gluten free) diet. I just don’t have the energy to anymore to keep having my pain dismissed, or the cope to seek out another practice.

Recently I discovered part of the reason I was always ill was gluten, so now any supplies I need cost more, and often taste horrible, and being now entirely reliant on other people, am constantly reminded of how much I am costing, and asked why I can’t just sort my life out. I spent my xmas money this year as pretty much every gift money has been for several years, on just grabbing supplies so I don’t have to ask for something for a few more days, despot the fact I was trying to save for something I really need.

In the last year or so i have finally realised I am queer, I identify as non-binary but am currently in an internal battle with the fact that I am feeling more and more male. I really want a binder so I can see how it feels being read as male, and was hopping I could get on with gift money hence asking for it, as I have tried to talk to my parents about it and have been ignored or met with concern and confusion.

My mother told me at xmas that my father has fuck up the finances, so they are in trouble, she is currently selling off her things to try and get cash. She had a cancer scare this year, and my father seemed to only see it as an inconvenience, so on xmas day when the two of us were alone she confide in me that she wants to leave him, that she has just been pretending for 30 years, because she had no other place to go and no money, but has finally decided to just go as her time may be short now. I am 30.

I have tried to find work but no one wants me, I have tried to set commissions for my art but I am terrible at putting myself forward, and am torn between charging what ppl will pay, and charging the correct amount for work done, and the fact that I always del like my work is inadequate, I considered patron, but I don’t have faith anymore that I could reliably produce content anymore, plus my laptop and tablet are breaking and stopping working more and more, soon I won’t even have them as an outlet. I have even considered crowd sourcing, gofundme or similar, but I am terrible at asking for help, and don’t feel worthy of charity anyway.

Money everything comes down to fucking money, I just want out but I can’t afford to, my family are falling apart and increasingly can’t afford to support themselves, I just can’t anymore…. I just...

Don’t mistake me, this isn’t a sob story to beg for assistance, this is just needing to not hold this inside anymore, because I need in the worst way to scream, this is my voice, this is my scream into the void.

[canaryatlaw]

So all in all, today was pretty good in a bunch of random little ways, which is cool. Alarm went off at 9:55, took the train to school. I sat next to the cutest baby on the train and he was looking at me the whole time just totally enthralled and it was so very cute so of course I was making faces at him for like half the train ride, haha. Got to school right on time for my 11:30 meeting with my field placement advisor, same one from last semester and my former LARC professor. Of course she's the perfect person for the job because she used to work in the office I work in and knows half the people that are there because of it, lol. We have to do the 3 meetings a semester as required, but at this point we've really talked through most of it so she was just asking me about what tasks they've been giving me and if I had any interesting cases, so I told her about the one I saw yesterday about the girl's whose arm was broken in four places from a "restraint" and of course she was horrified by the prospect and said it would probably be referred to special litigation for a suit against the residential facility, so that made me feel somewhat better about it. But yeah, it was a pleasant little meeting. After that I headed down to the PAD office to hang out and eat some lunch. My plan for this time was to bang out the rest of my LARC assignment, which I figured could take a while. I was debating with myself last night if I should wear or bring gym friendly clothes because Wednesday afternoons is one of my now designated "gym times," but I knew this was gonna take a while and then I had a haircut so I opted against it, but surprisingly the LARC assignment didn't take as long as I thought, pretty much just because I ran up against the word limit pretty quickly, and that's that. I know what I wrote is, objectively, good convincing legal writing, but I don't know if it follows the "formula" we're supposed to use for LARC which irritates me. I would probably put more work into it if it were actually be graded and not just a grade for handing it in, but even so it's not like I slacked off on it, I did put a solid amount of work in, so that's good. I was kind of annoyed I didn't have my gym clothes at that point, but in reality there was other stuff I needed to get done so it was probably good that I had a chance to do that. One of those things was getting the application done for the nonprofit in NYC I would like to intern at over the summer, which was interesting. They just wanted a cover letter, resume, unofficial transcript and writing sample, pretty basic, so I start writing my cover letter and I have to laugh because last year I was like struggling about what to put in a cover letter on applications, but now I literally have so much to say and talk about it was probably the longest cover letter in existence (it was almost the whole page) but I just had a lot to say and I think it was all good things to include. I just had to do the final touches on my resume, like update my GPA and changing my class rank from top 15% to top 10% (which, I have to say, was immensely gratifying). Unofficial transcript I can just get off online, so that's easy enough, so that just leaves the writing sample. They didn't give any parameters about length or anything on it, so I texted my dad and asked him if I should use one of my academic things I've written for LARC or if I should use the school memo I wrote over break, and he was like oh definitely the school memo so of course I went with that. It's like, 4 pages long, which is probably a bit long for a writing sample but I think it's all good. Of course since I was sharing it with a third party I was obligated to change the personal information, so I changed the name of the school to "Anchorage Christian School" because I figured Alaska would give them enough distance 😂 so that was good. It was just a debate between if they wanted like real world application versus the formulaic LARC stuff, and I think they would side on real world, so hopefully that'll work. It felt good to get all of that handled and turned in, since it's been in the back of my head as something I need to do for a while now. As I was getting ready to leave for my haircut, the PAD president came in and asked me if anyone has talked to me about the PAD mock trial team. One of the board members who's on the team sent out an email a few days ago basically as an SOS call that one of their members got injured and wouldn't be able to compete next month, so they needed an emergency replacement. Upon reading it I kind of had a feeling it was going to end up on my doorstep, just because of the experience I have and such, but I didn't do anything about it immediately because they practiced Tuesdays and Saturdays and I have class on Tuesdays, and that's generally a deal breaker, but it still managed to get back to me haha. The PAD president was apparently talking me up to them (he's on the school team) so I sent a tentative email saying I could maybe do it but couldn't do Tuesday practices, and then left for my haircut. As I was going down the stairs to the subway entrance there was a girl coming up and she's like "uh, you may not want to go down there, there's some guys fighting and it's not looking good" and sure enough I just hear two guys shouting at each other and random slamming into random things and such and I was like haha fuck no so I walked to the other end of the block to get in at that entrance cuz I ain't dealing with that shit. Sigh, Chicago. While on the train I got a phone call from last year's PAD president who's now one of their mock trial coaches, but since I was on the train I let it go to voicemail to deal with later. Got to ulta and saw my stylist, who immediately let spill that one of the girls in my class that she knows is pregnant, which I definitely didn't know haha but I'm sure I would find out soon enough. So that was interesting. But yeah, for the rest of it we just did our normal discussions, and we always have really good and satisfying discussions about things that I definitely enjoy. I had her do the same short cut I got in October when I was there last and then just got caught up with shit and let my hair get obscenely long and was driving me nuts so here I was again lol. Towards the end she was telling me that her cousin, who was a freshman in college, had attempted suicide a week before thanksgiving, and then had just attempted again two days ago, which is of course a very sad and difficult situation, and she wanted to hear my thoughts because she knows I'm somewhat of a mental health advocate (or at least I'd like to think I am. It's in my profile so it must be true, right?). Apparently he had been away at college, and after the first time didn't go back, but just started up again with the spring semester a few weeks ago, and he was like really insistent about going back to school which is totally understandable, the stress and the loneliness just kind of got to him, and he was saying things like "I don't want to die, I just don't know how to deal with these waves of depression." I started off by saying that no two people have the same mental health journey, and different people respond to treatment in different ways. I said he obviously needed to get into therapy that would teach him some coping skills for dealing with depressive episodes. He had been inpatient for a few days after the first one and is there again now, but I said if a longer-term inpatient program was available they might want to look into that, or at least some sort of group thing, hopefully among peers (though I imagine finding a group of teenage boys willing to participate in such a thing could definitely be a struggle). And yeah, he obviously wasn't ready to go back to school, and college can be a really big trigger for some people because it's such a life change and they just don't know how to deal with it. And of course I said try to avoid saying anything that would make him feel guilty because he's already overwhelmed with guilt, and to not treat him any different or like he's fragile, because that's not how anyone wants to be treated. She said she would tell her family what I said, so hopefully some of that could be helpful. I told her a little about my work with twloha at college and how so many have such a need for that sort of thing. He's out of school for now though, which is definitely a good move. I feel bad for his parents because I can imagine they're going through hell right now, to almost lose their son but decide to let him go back to school only for it to happen again, and now they're going to be terrified that they could pose him at any point, and I really can't imagine dealing with a child of yours being suicidal, like that has to be so so difficult for a parent, something I definitely didn't realize the extent of when I was younger, but I can see now that if I had killed myself, it would've completely destroyed and devastated my family and like....I'm just really glad I'm still here. Anyway. Left ulta and took the train back to school, heated up my food and headed to class for another session of crim pro. It's been an interesting class so far because the prof is very focused on like wanting to hear our opinions about issues in the criminal justice system and the specific questions she asks, which is cool, but like, means we don't always get into the cases and actual learning haha. Tonight we didn't actually start the cases until after the break when class was half over. She let us go at 8 though, so that was nice. Went home, and I was debating to watch Arrow or Frequency off my dvr, but I ended up being bad and staying up to watch both even though I have to be up at 7 am for work tomorrow. I watched Arrow first though, pretty much just because I was so curious to see what they were gonna do with Laurel/black siren, and it was....interesting. I didn't love it, but that's no surprise. There were some moments and some lines that were very good, but others just kind of fell flat for me. I kept getting stuck between wanting her to actually be willing to reform and become good again, but Oliver's like naive belief that he can make that happen makes me think it's not going to happen, lol, cuz he just makes it seem kind of unachievable, so I guess we'll see what happens there. I liked the Felicity not listening to Oliver just for kicks, haha, and I very much enjoyed the legal intricacies of the Diggle plot, and was quite satisfied with their conclusion there. I am definitely not a fan though of some random ass meta girl who has a sonic scream waltzing in there and just becoming the black canary because like......are you fucking kidding me? We're doing this again? Just stop, stop trying to replace Laurel and either do her justice or move on. You're just forcing comparison now, and there's a very slim chance you're going to beat your original work with Laurel. Like, just LET IT GO already. I do like that they kept the door open for more black siren, and I hope they take advantage of that because I want to see Katie Cassidy on my screen as much as possible. After that I went straight to Frequency, which of course was the season finale, and I was pretty happy with it! I knew they would have to pull something out after last week's conclusion, and I think they did an excellent job setting it up that everyone reasonably thought the deacon was the nightingale, but then were able to pull the rug out at the last minute in a way that's still actually entirely plausible, so I applaud them for not jumping the shark there. I was very entertained by the flipping back and forth and the world changing in the middle of a conversation so that you can't be talking to your mom about her patient because she just died but 20 years ago that is still playing out right now. Like, it's just so good. I felt bad for all the people that kind of became casualties, like Megan and Gordo's dad (poor Gordo, I know he didn't like his dad but no child deserves to have their father shot in front of them). And I knew her talking through the radio when the guy was there was gonna lead to him smashing it, lol, that was pretty predictable. The ending though, when she comes out of the garage and the house isn't lit up, holy shit I was ready to murder someone if they left us on a cliffhanger or just straight up killed her mom, because that would've been all kinds of awful and I really hate when shows legit don't wrap up a story just for the sake of having a cliffhanger. So I was happy to see the conclusion to that. They left it in a good place too that the story is finished, but they still left in the possibility for a second season (I don't think it's been renewed yet?) so I was glad to see that. And yeah, that was my day and I've officially rambled on for way too long here so I'm gonna end it now. Goodnight babes. Sleep well.