Hate | Love

A Row of Doors

The hallways was lined with doorways.

Type looked at each of the closed door and sighed. He would have to knock at each and everyone of them and convince whoever was living in those dormitory rooms to switch with him. He just finished one floor of begging and pleading but it seemed that each and every first year who occupied the university dormitory rooms did not have a single problem with their roommate. In fact, he could see that there were instances when both roommates were sharing a meal together. He was already in the 3rd floor, the floor where his own room was, and so far there had been no luck for him.

He remembered storming out of the locker hours ago, his best friend Techno running after him, his shirt uniform unbuttoned and his hair still wet from the shower. He wanted to go directly to the dorm room and confront the lying Tharn but then he realized that the Music Faculty major would not be in the room that early. Instead, he went to the office of the student's dormitory administration to demand that he be transferred to another room.

"Hey, Ai Type, wait up," as Techno ran after him. The tall, thin guy wished he kept his mouth shut but he did not realize that his best friend would be acting all weird and murderous. He could almost see smoke coming out of Type's nostrils.

But the lady in the office was of no help. She just kept staring at the flatscreen TV in front of her where some romance series had her complete and absolute attention. It only managed to infuriate Type even more.

"Aunty, listen, I am asking for the nth time that I badly need to be transferred to another room," Type said, trying his hardest not to snap at the lady who barely glanced at him before she returned her stare at the television.

"As I mentioned, there is no possible way that I can transfer you to another room unless you give me ample and an acceptable reason for me to exert unnecessary effort to find you another room. As it is, the rooms are filled and only for the first years, the senior students have to take rooms outside the campus and not even all first years are lucky to have a room." The lady yawned, bored, or slightly irritated that Type was disturbing her peaceful afternoon.

"Ai Type, maybe that is really not possible. Can you just forget that I said anything?" Techno whispered softly when he saw that his friend was tightening his hands into fists, it was the first time that he has seen Type that angry and it was not a pretty sight. He also could not understand the animosity that his friend was displaying towards Tharn whom he kept on saying was a good guy. "Ummmm, didn't you say that your roommate was a good guy, can you just let it slide? I mean, irritating I understand but you are fuming mad and I don't understand it at all, what's wrong?"

"Slide? What do you mean slide and no I cannot forget it. I hate gay people and I will not stay in the same room with one. In fact, I do not even want to breath the same air as he breaths," Type said through gritted teeth, trying to suppress his desire to shout at the face of his best friend who was currently looking as stupid as he most oftentimes looked.

"Excuse me young man," the lady at the desk suddenly asked prompting both young men to look at her. "You do know that you are making a scene here in the office and as much as I have explained that there was nothing I could do, let me tell you this. If you can give me a really really valid reason that you had to change rooms then I will try to look in the records again."

Dumbfounded, Type stared back at the stern look that the secretary was giving him. "Ummm... well, my roommate is... ummm."

"Your roommate is what?"

Type gulped, he did not want to say it, he knew that people would think of him as the bad guy if he said that he wanted to move because of his roommates preference to dicks rather than pussy so he looked at Techno, who as usual was looking lost.

"Ummmm... he's..."

"He is WHAT?" the lady's voice rose a notch. "Because if you are about to tell me that he is messy and unhygienic or has body odor, then don't even mention it. All boys are like that at some time or the other and what you should do is help him clean up rather than whine here like a spoiled brat."

"Ummm, he is not unclean... he's...oh, come please aunty, just let me move."

"Get out, you are wasting your time young man and if you do want to move then go ahead and ask anyone in that building, door to door if anyone wants to switch with you just please, leave me in peace to my melodrama!" The secretary said, one hand pointed towards the door, another on her waist as she glared at the angry face of the exasperated young man.

"Ai Type, I think we should go," Techno said, taking hold of Type's shirt and pulling him backwards."

That was hours ago.

From the admin office, Type ran all the way towards the dormitory building and started knocking on doors. One by one, he took the first floor, Techno silently following him around as he struggled to convince whoever who opened the door that he was desperate to switch rooms.

Not a few of the other first years gave him a weird look, not a few slammed the door to his face, not a few snickered at the absurdity of his request when he could not even say the reason why he wanted to switch rooms. Unfortunately, everyone was happy with whom they were with; just like he was before he went completely berserk. Techno could only shake his head in disbelief and amazement as Type's face went from pinking mad to raging, angry red with each door that closed in front of his face.

They were halfway across the 2nd Floor rooms when Techno pulled him back and almost dragged him towards cheering practice. Tired and simmering, Type just sat the practice out, his face grim and his hands locked into fists beside him. Spending hours silently mumbling to himself, nursing an anger that made him want to scream.

It was way past dinner time when Type trudged back to his dormitory, began knocking on the doors exactly where he left off hours earlier. Again, all to no avail.

The students were tired from cheering practice and some were doing their assignments, and Type's intrusion into their own rooms were beginning to become much of a nuisance as the night became deeper that there were a few words exchanged but in the end, nobody wanted to switch rooms with the enraged young man who was so different from the calm, collected and handsome Sports Science Faculty major that everyone could see smiling almost everyday, the mirth in his eyes; now, there was only hatred and frustration.

Until he found himself opening the last door, the door to his own room, which was empty; his roommate, the beginning and the end of his quest for new quarters was not yet in and all Type could do was slump tiredly on his bed. He was still in his disheveled uniform, gone wrinkled in his mad dash from room to room across hallways and rows of doorways where he was not given even one ounce of pity nor understanding.

But how could they understand? How could anyone understand? As Type gritted his teeth and grabbed one of his pillows and screamed his heart out.