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It was all like a dream. The roads passed by in tandem with looming clouds, which had begun to fade with the rising sun's first yawn. Token had traced constellations onto the window while the stars were young, but once they were out of sight he drew his own. For once, he allowed himself to not be bothered by the uneven lines and how his night sky of glass looked more like random blobs. Nothing could sway the engineer's current enthrallment, best described as a singing soul with the accompaniment of his thrumming heartbeat.
It was hard to believe that this was all really happening. Token's life had pretty much gone as perfectly as he planned it to, and he didn't dare question it. He wondered how many people out there have the same luck that has allowed him to travel along this well-paved path without as much as a pebble to trip on. Maybe luck had nothing to do with it; it could merely be his overall success was achieved by hard work. Of course he didn't deny the optimistic possibility, but since he is far too humble of a man, he whispered a thank you to any forces that may have had a hand in charting out his life's course.
"We're approaching the front gate, Black. You'll be dropped off at the housing district, so do try to memorize the way back to the main work facilities." The simultaneous update and what he considered to be an obligation made his fingers anxiously dance. Turning his body to face the older gentleman sitting next to the opposite passenger side window, Token attempted to draw strength from his longtime friend and advisor’s confident, tall posture. A sudden clamminess of his hands caused his gaze to bore into them, willing them to dry as if his eyes were the sun. When that didn't seem to work, Token threw them to his sides with a huff.
"Mr. McElroy, it's okay to be nervous, isn't it? I hate how my excitement is literally being dampened by these meddlesome worries. I'm looking forward to this so much, yet here I am sweating like a pubescent child." Token's low tone didn't stop the fellow passenger from releasing a shameless bellow of laughter. He wanted to spit out an immediate retort, but couldn't even bring himself to glare in spite. In fact, the only movement that Token managed to do was out of his control. His face prickled at the nervous bouncing of his knees.
"Son, if you said you weren't nervous, I would've given you a good shake and told you to get nervous. This place is filled with only the brightest minds in the country. Getting uncomfortable means that you want to make a good impression, which means you want to do well, and that means you care. I'd think you to be a fool if you weren't somehow on edge. I nearly pissed myself on my first day, and I’m just a cook!" Token emitted a light chuckle at those words, though he wasn't sure how accurate they were. Nevertheless, he let himself be comforted by them. The twitching of his fingers became less erratic, but his jumpy thighs refused to settle. His eyes focused on the automatic movement, going up and down along with them.
"We've arrived, sirs. Would you like me to remove your bags from the trunk?" The driver asked without looking back at her passengers. Token gave a quick shake of his head before opening the door. A breath lodged itself in his throat and he did his best to swallow it down before planting his first sole onto the pavement. With a more controlled exhale he thrust his legs into a standing position. Unfortunately, a three-hour ride combined with generally poor balance and flaring anxiety had Token toppling forward. He was caught by two strong hands with his body at a forty five degree angle, and cursed as that same deep chuckling entered his ears. "Whoa there, boy! Save that sporadic energy for later. Don't want you falling on your face now, do we?" A sigh escaped Token's lips and he made no attempt to stop it.
With a groan he properly straightened himself, dusting off any invisible particles from his purple dress shirt. He was beginning to feel more and more like a child, causing his earlier impenetrable joy to be rained upon by numerous insults. A storm was brewing inside of Token, but as he stomped to the back of the car to retrieve his belongings, the gloomy weather burst into a shower of light. Although he made brief observations of the apartment complex (a tall building probably eight stories high, painted a delicate pearl white with tulips growing in nearby planters), Token's attention was drawn to the vast amount of green that covered the general vicinity. Massive oak trees went alongside the well-kept road, dangling high above him like a crown. Some spilled leaves down onto Token's clothes and hair and he let them be. There were enough openings between the branches to see just enough of the sky to satisfy him, raising his arm up as if reach through the gaps. Without truly comprehending the thought, Token remained unaware that his heart already registered this place as home.
"I think I'm in love." A slap to his back returned Token to reality as he met Jerome McElroy's gaze for the first time since the drive. This brought a smile to the superior's face, eliciting a deep, less eccentric laugh from his chest. He handed the young man his luggage, consisting of one wheeled suitcase and a laptop bag, and prepared to leave so Token could settle into his new living arrangement. Giving Token's shoulder a short squeeze, McElroy lowered his stature to be even with him. "You're going to be just fine," He stated in a low but firm tone, "Remember that you're here for a reason."
Token kept his eyes steady with Mr. McElroy as they both took steps away from each other. Before he slid back into the car, he sent Token a grin with a final reminder, "I'll meet you at the labs in a few hours, so take your time getting situated. I have faith in you, Token Black. You're going to accomplish great things, I know it." With that said, “Chef” lowered himself into the vehicle and was driven back up the main road. Token remained in place, waving until the car was completely out of sight.
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To say that Token was excited would be a cruel understatement. After he and Chef parted ways, a manic kicking of his legs made him realize just how eager he was. Taking in one last eye-full of the morning sky, Token galloped down the stony pathway leading to his designated apartment building from the many more extending across both sides. As he noted an elevator and stairs, he again found himself to be incredibly grateful that his room was on the first floor. Token had a handful of fears and general things that made him uncomfortable. One of them was heights. He was also claustrophobic.
His room wasn't far from the entrance, so he located apartment twenty-three in under two minutes. In that short travel Token couldn't raise his gaze from the floor, all while his mind was ready to analyze everything in sight. He knew that he had certain quirks, most stemming from insecurity, but that wouldn't stop him from being exasperated by them. His dream was coming true all around him, yet even now, the old habit of avoiding possible eye contact adamantly remained in place.
Only when Token stood directly in front of his door did he feel safe enough to lift his eyes. Conflicting emotions of trepidation and enthusiasm mixed together in a dizzying array of spots among his vision, and he was starting to feel sick. Well, he was beginning to feel sick from fear, and even sicker of feeling this way to begin with. With a heavy exhale Token shoved a hand into his front pocket and ripped out his apartment key. It reflected like gold off of his glasses' lenses, and to Token, it was worth far more than any riches he could ever receive. This shaped piece of brass not only opened a room. It led to his future: his bright, seemingly perfect future, and with that thought in mind, he snidely wondered why the heck he was still outside. What a fool he was for making himself worry when there wasn't anything to worry about. Some sort of pessimistic comment should've come after that thought, but Token didn't let it. How could he be so condescending with so much good happening? Token forced his mangled eyesight to readjust, and with a hard, determined dip of his chin, he slid the key into the lock, and gave it a sharp turn.
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Token valiantly shoved the door open. Newfound courage bubbling in his gut was only mildly countered by baseless, anxious concerns zipping through his head. It didn't matter. He refused to hold back any longer, to not enjoy what he worked so hard for! A mind of precision had to constantly be balanced by its inability to be steady, and he was done being restrained. Let it be known that for once, Token Black took a chance without fretting over the unknown. He was set on breaking the cycle right then and there, and he did, though a bit too literally. As the rekindled spirit thrust through the open door like a charging bull, a step was misplaced, a vase was shattered, and his consciousness gave up on him.
The pounding of his head wasn't helping Token's painful transition out of unconsciousness. He acknowledged what he heard as voices, but no words could properly register in his mind. Not only that, but whatever was being said above him clawed at his eardrums. A groan escaped his lips and he writhed on the floor, nearly bursting into tears as the headache boomed at the movement. Reaching up and finding a bump near his hairline, Token lightly massaged his temple.
"Craig, he's awake! Mister, can you hear me?" The words were discernible now. Two men formed in front of him as his eyes readjusted, though his mind and sight were still foggy. Token was offered a blurry hand, and when he reached for it, his unsteadiness and sudden need for structure caused him to yank at the stranger's arm. Said stranger let out an unsuspecting yelp, gracelessly toppling over on top of Token. An elbow pierced his gut, and Token's battered, aching body quaked at the assault. The weight of another adult crushing his chest alone felt excruciating. He bit his tongue to manage the pain, and the new metallic taste of blood in his mouth added to his already swaying mind nearly made him vomit.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the numerous apologizes spilled out of the stranger faster than Token's brain could account for, and that was it. He had no idea what was going on, what had happened to him, and who these people were. It was too much to manage all at once. It was all too much.
"Get off of me, you buffoon!" Token couldn't help the strangled shout that burst out of him, but at least it was effective. His vision returned almost completely as he witnessed the man scramble off of him with support from the other intruder. A rush of authority surged through him and Token pushed himself to stand without any help. "What are you doing in my apartment?"
The stranger that Token knew better as a crushing boulder trembled a bit, gripping onto the other man to calm down before sputtering, "We, uh, were returning from our lab shift when we saw your door open. Y-You were knocked out!" His breathing sped up after that, becoming shallow and could hardly be considered inhales at all. While the man fell into an anxious fit and the other rubbed his back with concerned eyes, Token used the opportunity to take in the two of them. They appeared to be around his age, maybe in their later twenties, and the one in mild stages of a panic attack had a stature that reminded Token of the trees he'd recently been enamored by. Even with the way his shoulders shook and his back curled inwards as he managed the stress, this stranger hovered above both men by over a foot; Token held in an inappropriate snicker as his mind connected the man's taller than average height to giants from fairy tales. Most likely a gentle giant, Token concluded while noting the almost pale skin, bright blonde hair and glowing blue eyes that twinkled despite thick panic throwing them into a fluttering frenzy. The engineer couldn't help but notice how his heart jumped as his gaze traveled lower. The man under his scrutiny had a clear lankiness about him. Token's eyes flowed down to examine the body that was not quite frail, but so obviously thin underneath the heavy overcoat. It racked at his brain: Token understood why his eyes refused to look away, he just preferred not to explore that thought at the moment. He let out a forced exhale, tugging at his yellow tie in hopes it would extinguish the sudden fire burning his face. Oh man, he wasn't sweating again, was he? In an epiphany, Token realized he was being an idiot. This whole situation made no sense, and his gawking wasn't making it any easier to process. What had happened again?
"Aren't you going to say something, dipstick? Your headbutt into the counter freaked Tweek out of his wits. And let me tell you, he's got a lot of wits, so you better apologize before I make you wish you never woke up!" Oh, right. There was another guy with him, with this apparently very witty man named Tweek.
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The second stranger's piercing green glare sent a jolt of fear throughout Token's limbs like a shock. It made his pulse quicken at a different, painful rate, his heart thundering to prep his body to flee, yet he was stuck in place. Token wasn't sure if he felt more terrified or stupid while he twisted his clamped lips. Acidic words he'd been so quick to spit were now clogging and corroding his throat. He used what was left of the adrenaline-fueled courage he'd had mere seconds ago just to muster up the nerve to speak.
"I'm not quite sure what to say, to be frank," mumbled Token, "Wait, how do you know I hit my head on the counter-top? I don't even recall doing that!" During this fretting, Token's overactive brain acknowledged the angry main's dark black hair and bits of facial stubble, but those were deemed insignificant as he glimpsed at broad shoulders and a NASA t-shirt that exposed lightly tanned and toned arms. If this man's temper led to a fight, it wouldn't be much of a contest. The stranger wasn't frighteningly muscular, but it wouldn't take much to overpower Token, who was drowning in the thought that grown men would go at it over a few unkind words and impatience. Definitely not the best first meeting he's ever had.
The other man quirked an eyebrow and gave him a skeptical look. "You were lying directly below it, and your shoe imprints in the carpet lead straight to it. Plus, the vase on the coffee table is broken, so you must've stumbled into one of the legs before trying to make out with the counter." Throughout the explanation, the stranger used one hand to point out each piece of evidence, all while using the other to continue soothing an emotionally troubled Tweek. Token should've been focusing on how his clumsiness burdened two fellow intellectuals, but he was busy wondering if he had to pay someone for the broken vase. It was his apartment, so did that mean everything in it was essentially his? Token didn't have to pay a dime for it, though his family could easily afford it, but were there regulations for collateral damage?
"I'm not a detective, but I'm probably smarter than most of them, don't you think?" The man smiled up at Tweek, who returned it with a nod and gracious laughter, "Point is I don't have to be one to state the obvious. Now that I've solved your case, apologize to Tweek so we can be on our merry way and never talk to you again."
Token raises his hands to motion to himself, wanting to apologize and more, but no words manage to come forward in his still bewildered brain. With a final glare, Craig turns away from the stranger and leads Tweek out of the apartment, leaving Token to mull on his confusion, shame, and sudden adoration for a very pretty tree.