Beeps and Buzzes

🌍 ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 ✓

Blipping by in a hummingbirds heartbeat, facing zero complications, dumped wuth numerous online resources and references to consult for upcoming essays, you first Semenar went by seamlessly.

It couldn't of gone any better, honestly. Middle row, not one but two (two!) overachieving seat mates. They asked strange, complicated questions fearlessly! Just had to play it cool, get one or both of their numbers, set up a groupchat and introduce some kind of method of note sharing to effortlessly propel forwards all the way into the next year.

Leading this whole thing, a Professor brimming with Zest for life and not at all straining underneath years of uncooth students. Relaxed, you could say.

Definately fairing far better than that guy who had an entire mental breakdown over a physics lecture. Rumours circulating round the halls suggested that he was some form of scientific prodigy... Or an escapee of a local asylum.

Anyway.

Ordinarily you'd be crawling into bed for a job well done, lurk there all after chowing down on your favourite snacks free of peer judgement. Regrettably, a social obligation blocked such a selfish yearning.

Remember before, receiving an invite to some kind of party? By those football nerds?

Yeah. They kinda, sorta, maybe located in the same wing as you. You'd made uncomfortable eye contact whilst accompanying Sharksy to the singular functional vending machine, leading to an extra awkward reminder by form of enthusiastic cheering.

Didn't understand the hype, man.

Sharksy sure as hell did. Didn't bother to ask how you earnt such a position, hell, didn't even check if you were going. Immediately texting Fassbinder, who contacted Leo, who contacted you got an 'Emergency meeting at HQ'.

Leo wore you down in seconds, resolve fizzing out as his persitance bordered along depressing. Reluctantly handing them the metaphorical keys to a world of social opportunity and prospects of a new life outside urban myths, hating how weak your resolve was.

So many new chances... Squandered.

Blundering into the early evening, dressed in your finest garments (or not, it was a fratt party), it was time. In one last-ditch effort you'd jogged from your dormitory, towards the opposite building, just to get intercepted by Leo's whooping.

Painful as it was to be friends sometimes... Leo was at least deserving of some respect. Just a little. Just enough for you to sigh tiredly, slow down, become swallowed by your eternal band of friends before charging into a lions den of mayhem.

Walking amongst the group, each boy genuinely excited to be invited, hands shoved deep into your pockets. Shuddering at a passing chill, shoulders hunched up, giving an illusion of being sulky. Moody. Unapproachable.

Unintentionally.

Your tired expression didn't help.

Fortunately, everyone else being too, distracted by literally everything other than a decent night's rest, nobody noticed. Or strictly cared. Just a hum of skepticism from a girl loitering against a wall, who just took a long drag before subbing out her cigarette and re-entering am explosion of strobe lights.

Fighting through the crowd at the front, blindsided by multiple orders both natural and no, wheeling back as a dude-bro lumbered past. Different groups mingling with each other, shouting present as a most prominent form of communication, things had evident ally spiralled out of control without even making it to midnight first!