Ambition Is Bullshit

Chapter 7.5

Technically this is a filter chapter because MODORI can't be bothered to write Chapter Eight already. Lazy ass. And don't bother apologizing because we both know you have nothing better to do. Anyway, just incase you're confused all of what's in this chapter, everything happened pre-roommate and job, so no Faith, Ashley or Alex. Fortunately. Sorry guys but you still my spotlight a tad too much.

"Miss Wilson!" Mr. Lou neared his face closer to mine, his coffee breath very blatant. And I thought my morning breath stank.
"Yes...?" I resisted the urge to gag, covering my mouth and nose because we all know no one's will is that strong.
"Explain to me why out of everyone in this class you're the only one without a book?!" He gritted his teeth. Yep, this dude was nose-flaringly angry. I forced myself to look around at only silent gaze and surprise surprise they were all clutching their books like there's no tomorrow. Are you freaking kidding?! This is philosophy not pre-med, what are a bunch of sissies they are. "Miss Wilson, I'm waiting." I looked back at Mr Lou, who was now a nice distance away for safe unfiltered breathing, he folded his hands. I sighed, guess there's only one thing left to do; smart-ass my way out of this unpleasant situation. And yes, his breath stank that much.
"It's because there's no point." I heard a few gasps as Mr. Lou slanted eyes widened a tenth of an inch.
"Excuse me?"
"There's no point in me bringing my book because the reason of philosophy is to interpret the knowledge you are given and express it in your own way, not to fill your brain with a bazillion pointless facts that will never help advance your own understanding of anything really. Therefore it's pointless to bring my book." Well that might be my true belief, it's also a fancy longer way of saying "I lost my book and never bothered to look for it." Being smart comes in handy sometimes. Mr Lou continued to stare at me for a few minutes, as was the class, before he finally sputtered out a response.
"Well... that's... I might have misjudged you, Keira." He took of his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose before looking back at the class. "I guess we should start the lesson but please try and bring it next time Miss Wilson."
"Oh, you mean I have to look for it now?" I all but whined.
"Excuse me?" He arched an eyebrow.
"Nothing, sir, just excited for class." I gave him a thumbs up.
"Well then, today's lesson is about-" And this is the part where I normally fall asleep.

"Hey," I felt someone tap my shoulder, causing me to grunt.
"What?" I begrudgingly lifted my head, finding myself in class staring into eyes as deep as the ocean.
"Class is over." He spoke in a voice as soft as it was deep. A nice combination might I add. I examined the room, finding that it was indeed empty.
"So it seems." I got up, swinging my bag on my shoulder. "Well, see ya." I waved before turning around.
"Wait, aren't you going to ask my name?" I looked back at the blond, oh did I forget to mention? He had bright blond that came down to his ears in rich waves. My eyes traveled down to the student ID card hanging over the front pocket of his shirt.
"Christopher?" I raised an eyebrow, I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that his name was Daenerys Targaryen with that hair. Albeit it was a little short, but nothing a few extensions wouldn't fix. "Well, nice meeting you, Chris. I'm Keira Wilson." I gave him my best smile before leaving, the stench of brainless education intoxicating me.

On my way back to the apartment, I saw some kind of street fight, which wasn't at all surprising because this was New York afterall. But I got a weird gut feeling when the two guys began dragging the other guy into an alleyway. "This can't be good," I sighed reluctantly making my way to the alleyway. I seriously hated getting involved. When I got to the alley I slid behind a trash can, gross I know, and listened. What? I can't exactly help without finding out what's going on. I'm not Jackie Chan afterall.
"You son of bitch, you're three months late in your payment!" A guy with gravely voice pushed the other guy to the ground and began kicking him. I flinched, that must've hurt but more importantly what was this idiot talking about. I took out my phone and began recording.
"I don't owe you idiots anything." The guy spoke in a deep voice with a thick British accent, and despite the obvious pain he was in his tone was calm. The final guy angrily grabbed him and pulled him up.
"Listen here, you fucking faggot, this is the blue cobra's turf, meaning as long as that sandwich cart of yours is here you have to pay up!" He pushed him into the wall. Blue cobra, huh? These guys are complete halfwits. I got up and slid my phone into my pocket.
"Hey," I called out, forcing all three of them to look my way. The first two looked like your everyday run of the mill thugs, gruff, plain and most notably stupid, while the other guy, despite his bruised cheek and obvious broken nose, was surprisingly handsome. But didn't the other guy call him a... I shook my head, focus Keira.
"What the hell do you want?!" One of the guys hissed at me, trying to intimidate me I think.
"Just wanted to know, what's the jail time for the two pricks who just admitted to being part of the biggest and baddest gang in New York." This time neither one of the goons retorted with a half-baked threat. "Well, you could cut a deal with the NYPD and rat out your friends but then your boss most likely will kill you if this is like cop/mafia cliché that we all know and love." They continued to stare at me silently. I sighed. "I'm not going to repeat myself, get out before the cops catch you." Finally, they listened and ran off, I walked over to the guy and helped him up.
"That was stupid." The guy rolled his eyes.
"No thank you?" I arched an eyebrow.
"You put yourself in danger for some guy you barely know and you don't even get a measly thank you? I swear, the humanity."
"Weren't you afraid?"
"You think I should be afraid of two brutish dimwitted thugs? Not going to lie, that's slight insulting." He stared at me puzzled for a moment.
"Why'd you do it?"
"Hell for all I know." I shrugged. "My name's Keira Wilson, what's your name and phone number?"
"Phone number?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you hitting on me?"
"Ha, not with that getup, buddy. I need your phone number so I can send you this recording incase those two idiots decide to bother you again."
"Oh," he held out his hand. "I'm Rami, Rami Santos."
"Well, Rami Santos, now you owe me." I grinned.
"Since when is helping someone out of your own free will entail they owe you?" I tapped my chin thoughtfully.
"Since now, I guess. I might look like a nice person, but trust me that's only my face. Phone number?" He looked at me cooly for a few minutes before sighing.
"Fine."

"Riles, you home?" I called out, dumping my bag on the floor.
"Nope." Came the dry response. Over the years she's become more and more grumpy, and a lot more cold. But she's still my best friend so what're you going to do?
"Where are you?" I asked, not finding here near the fridge or tv.
"Not here." I sighed, she can be really stubborn sometimes. I walked to her room and opened the door. "Hey, knock before you come in." Riley threw a pillow at me.
"I did knock," I lied. "You just didn't hear me."
"Sure." Riley rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what do you want?" I strode to her bed before letting myself fall.
"I think I'm having an existential crisis." I looked up to meet her green eyes.
"I'm I suppose to know what that is?"
"Danisnotonfire?" I sat up. "Seriously?" I waited but only got a raised eyebrow. "You've been living under a rock or something?"
"No, I just don't waste every moment of my free time watching videos about people talking about their lives when I could just live my own."
"Ugh." I groaned, laying back down. "That sounds so boring."
"So, what is an existential crisis anyway?"
"It's when you realise how insignificant you are and that you're life will probably not amount to anything." I sighed.
"Seriously? Since when have you ever cared about stuff like that?"
"Well, today I saved a guy from two thugs."
"What? Seriously?"
"Yep. And the thing is I felt like I was burdening myself by even bothering, like even when I saw them beat the crap out of him and threaten him I couldn't myself to care more than mild intrigue. Am a bad person, aren't I?"
"But you still helped him, most people don't even try."
"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled. Riley continued to stare at me for a few minutes before finally sighing.
"So how'd you save him, anyway?"
"Blackmailed the idiots."
"Wait, isn't that how you dealt with our senior year PE coach?"
"Kinda, except with them I used the fact that they admitted to being part of a gang and threatened to call the police."
"But if they're part of a gang, won't the police just cut them a deal instead? Well, I guess that depends on what gang they're in."
"Blue Cobra."
"Wait, isn't that the gang that's been on news lately for that shooting?"
"Yep."
"So you went up a gang who had no qualms about killing people and literally threatened a guy in front of you?"
"Pretty much."
"Uh huh," she took out a book from her bedside table. So she's going to rea- "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I felt a jolt of pain as she slapped me with the book.
"Ouch! What the hell, Jameson?!"
"You're literally complaining about how insignificant your life is when you nonchalantly endangered it for some guy you don't know! How dense can you be?!"
"Well, when you say it like that," I sighed, rubbing my now bruised shoulder. "But seriously, cool it with the book smacking."
"Well, someone has to knock some sense into you now that Stratos isn't around."
"Thank god for that. She would've put me in psych evaluation for impulse control or something if she ever got wind of this."
"Now, that you mention it," Riley grinned mischievously. Oh no...
"You wouldn't dare." I narrowed my eyes at her.
"I wouldn't?" She raised an eyebrow. "You're making this too easy, Wilson!" She threw a pillow at me and ran away, phone in hand.
"Riley, get back here!" I ran after her. "If you dare dial her number I will kill you!"
"The temptation is just too strong..." She replied dramatically, sliding open her phone.
"There's no need to do anything drastic, Jameson. Just put the phone down." I articulated, trying to calm her down.
"Now why would I do that?"
"Because if you don't I will kill you!" I jumped on her, tackling both of us to the ground.
"Oomph." She grunted. "You need to go on a diet, Wilson."
"And you need to put the goddam phone down!" I snatched it away from her and threw it on the couch.
"Geez, I was kidding." Riley pushed me off of her. "I don't want Stratos hearing of this anymore than you do, she'll accuse me of being a bad guardian and threw me into the psych ward as well just for fun of it."
"Guardian? I don't need a babysitter."
"Says the girl who risked her life for a guy she barely knows." Riley replied dryly, getting up.
"I thought you said that makes me a better person than most people because I actually tried to help."
"It's because most people, unlike you Keira, are sane."
"That's hurts, Riley. It's hurtful." I placed a hand over my heart.
"Suck it up, you've been through worst." She rolled her eyes, walking back to her room.
"No wonder I'm so messed up when this is the support system I have." I sulked.
"It's the only one that'd take you in free of charge." She yelled back. "Be grateful."
"Grateful my sorry ass!"
"Sorry indeed."
"Screw you, Jameson."
"Thanks!" She smiled smugly before shutting the door.
"Bitch." I muttered, slumping down on the couch. "But what're you going to do, right?"