Big Ugly Story Starters

James and Richey Manic

James walks into Richey's dorm room. He is smiling because he's happy to see his friend, even though the room looks kinda crummy, and he thinks Richey is looking at him weirdly.

Richey throws himself on the bed, folding himself into an impossibly tiny ball with his head tucked below his knees, though he could be seen peeking out, smiling at James. He seems rather comfortable in that position.

"OK..." James says. It ends up coming out more like a grunt, though his intention is to show Rich it doesn't bother him that Richey is being himself, Richey doesn't need to engage James in any other way.

Richey seems now to be hugging himself, putting his head on his own knee for comfort. Richey starts giggling to himself. "I'm sorry; I'm such a shit host..."

"It's OK, Rich," James answers quickly in a sing-along voice, as if Richey's inner feelings of inadequacy depend on him. James knows they don't depend on him, but that never stops one from trying, does it?

James goes up and makes himself a cup of tea, leaving one on the table near the bed for Richey, just in case.

Richey straightens up against the wall, having noticed James come back with the tea. He feels hungry; He feels tired; He feels out of place in university, out of place with the world, and out of place socializing with James.

Richey moves one leg forward and puts his foot down on the floor. His other leg is still propped up over the edge the bed. He takes his cup of tea in one hand, taking a meek sip, before holding the cup down over his thigh. He is convinced that sip had filled him, at that moment anyhow, and made his headache go away somewhat.

"Thank you," Richey says.

"Anytime," James replies, nodding courteously at Richey.

"It's different than I thought it would be." Richey says, making it sound as if he's been contemplating what to say to James this whole time.

James looks at Richey interestedly. Whenever Richey does speak to him, James always listens to him willingly.

"How?" James asks

"Well, I still alternate between my room and the library most of the time, not much has changed in that sense, but-"

Richey stops talking, digging lines on his covered knee with his bitten fingernails.

"Is it about a girl?" James asks Richey. He knows Richey was still a virgin before going to uni. He meant to save it for the right girl, whenever she'll come along. James wonders if Richey had broken one of his resolutions, maybe he had gone to this nice girl, and chatted her up, and got it over with - and now he was waiting for her to return his affection.

It seemed plausible after James saw the empty bottles of alcohol in the kitchenette. Richey made no attempt to hide them; he just left them revealed in the plastic bin. Richey had never drunk before, to James' best of knowledge. James' mind was beginning to fill in the gaps creatively.

"No, no," Richey shakes his head, stopping James' train of thought. "Though there was this girl - she looked beautiful. You'd have liked her. I thought I was in love, and then she walked out with her boyfriend! Blah!" – Richey makes a vomiting noise. "It was dreadful. Let's admit it; I'll never have a girlfriend."

"Why? You just gotta keep an eye out for the ones who don't have a boyfriend. That's not so difficult."

"It's a pain!" Richey argues back playfully. "All the prettiest ones are taken."

"Not all," James sighs. It's hard to talk to someone with such fatalist opinions about everything. "And it sounds like you're looking for an ideal. Ideals are doomed to fail you..."

"That's ironic." Richey retorts. That line flies right over James' head.

"Ideals are fun, they're good for songs, and poetry, and books." He smiles a Richey. "They are also good for fantasies." His smile changes into a smirk unawarely, and he is still looking warmly at Richey.