Archive of Our Own

If there’s anything David has learned during his time in college, it’s to be thankful of the little things, like how the water pressure in his shared bathroom is just right, and how the campus bookstore always has his favorite pens in stock, and of course, how the campus cafeteria opens up exactly fifteen minutes before his eight am lecture thus providing him some semblance of coherency as he listens to Prof. May drone about how to optimize on customer acquisitions costs when establishing the marketing strategy of any young business in his Advanced Entrepreneurship lecture. 

And it’s a good lecture, David actually likes this class. But it’s still eight am and that sours any good feeling he has. 

He sinks further down in his chair, sipping on his coffee in one of the back rows of the lecture hall, scribbling down his notes and doodling in between the lines, going back and forth between actively and passively listening to the class. 

He’s nearly at the end of his college career and he’s looking forward to leaving it behind. He doesn’t have any lingering negative feelings about college, he’s just ready to move on to what he has to do next. 

When news broke that David had enrolled in college to study business entrepreneurship after high school, many assumed it was his father’s doing. The tired “successful business mogul with a wayward son” storyline laid out every old cliche printed in between the pages of every tabloid: Johnny Rose’s desperate attempt at trying to get his son interested in the family business. 

And the papers were correct in assuming that David was not interested in taking over his father’s company. Other than a brief stint at a store near the Toronto mansion when he was 15 to, “get a taste of what it’s like to work for your money”, David never once asked his dad about the business or expressed any desire to work at Rose Video. 

Maybe it’s because he’s always had to trail behind his dad’s shadow, and his mom’s and even Alexis’s. But David Rose wanted something that was completely his.

And going to college seemed like it was. 

So, despite what the press has said, David applied to school on his own without the help of his dad. Johnny Rose wasn’t even aware of his son’s academic excursion until a week before the semester began. One of the more memorable family dinners. 

Going for art history seemed like the obvious choice. He’s always had a love for it and his keen eye for style always had him gravitating towards the sublime. But the decision to pair that with business with a concentration in entrepreneurial studies, well, that raised a few dark eyebrows

Then his dad did a thing with his face where he looked like he wanted to cry which had David scrambling to explain that his decision was not based on him wanting to follow in his father’s footsteps. 

Nevertheless, Johnny Rose was obviously very pleased with David’s decision and proclaimed that he would be there every step of the way to help David and his studies as his mentor. But David very quickly denied any service his father was willing to provide. 

“If I’m going to do this, I’m doing it on my own,” David said very firmly. “I don’t need you to butt in like mom did during the Little Mister pageants. I’m still annoyed that I got disqualified because you couldn’t stop yelling out my lines.”

“Oh, am I still being crucified for expressing ardent support for my only son?”

David spent the majority of that dinner answering the endless questions his family had for him before finally being able to pivot the conversation to his mother’s next fundraising ball. Their support was unnecessary...but nice. 

“Proposals for your final project are due next week,” Prof. May’s voice echoes through the lecture hall, breaking David out of his thoughts. “Typed up, I will not be accepting assignments written on a napkin,” she says, giving a pointed look at one of the students up front who cowers a little in their seat. “Make sure your idea is strong enough to present at the Entrepreneurship Fair. You’ll be speaking to your fellow peers and professors. Be prepared to answer many questions.”

David makes sure to write a reminder for himself in his leather planner, letting out a dejected sigh because he hasn’t been able to brainstorm anything worthy of being presented to his classmates. 

It’s bad enough they think he’s only getting by because of his dad. Presenting anything less than perfect will only further prove their unfounded assumptions about him. 

“Remember you can either work in a group of no more than three or by yourself.”

Relief unfurls inside of his chest because avoiding awkward group dynamics is always a win in David’s book, especially with skeptical classmates that have never taken him seriously. 

No one has ever been mean to David here, at least not to his face. He’s not naive to think the whispers that suddenly halt whenever he turns the corner in the library aren’t about him. 

But to be honest, David prefers the hushed whispers rather than the scathing looks that were thrown his way back in New York. His classmates back there were not shy in expressing their outward disdain for the Rose heir. 

It was no surprise when David had gotten into NYU. At least, it wasn’t to most people because everyone assumed his dad had bought him a seat. No one seemed to be interested to know that David got in all on his own. 

He survived a semester before dropping out. Because sure he can put on the mask and act as if he didn’t care about what anyone thought. But if you have that many people telling you you’ll never make it on your own, well, you have no other choice but to believe them eventually. 

Because try as he might, the shadow of his family followed behind him to every class, every lecture, taunting him with the disbelief that David Rose could ever be something without his family. 

So he set out to prove them wrong and worked for a gallery as an intern before quickly rising up to be a co-curator. For a year he was successful, people flocked to him, artists begged to be featured, there was almost always a line out the door during the exclusive events he organized. He was thriving and every terrible whisper that he heard across the hall disappeared steadily as his name grew and grew. 

But then Revenue came knocking on their mansion door and suddenly everything was gone. 

Then he was sulking in a decrepit motel room with his sister in the last place he ever thought he’d end up in. 

And now he’s sitting in the lecture hall of Elmdale College, four and a half years later, chasing after a degree he had given up on back in New York because somehow, Schitt’s Creek had him believing he could have it if he wanted it. 

Schitt’s Creek seemed to have given David many things bizarrely enough. 

“Okay, I’ll see you all next Tuesday,” Prof. May says, everyone standing up to pack their belongings. 

David continues to sit in his seat, waiting for everyone else to shuffle out first so that he can avoid the crowd that rushes towards the doors. He’d like to avoid being jostled thank you very much. 

Speaking of the things Schitt’s Creek has given him, David feels his phone vibrate in his pocket twice, knowing that it’s Stevie asking him if he wants to grab a late breakfast. 

There are a lot of things he had in his prior life, but a Stevie was not one of them. 

He sends her a quick text telling her he’ll meet her at the cafeteria, packing up his bag and leaving the lecture hall with measured steps fueled by the french toast sticks that are in his imminent future. 

\\\

“I’m just saying, there is a severe lack of places for ski rentals. It could be a lucrative business for you because you’ll dominate the market in the area,” Stevie says, popping a grape into her mouth. They’re sitting in the cafeteria brainstorming ideas for David’s final project, empty paper plates drenched with maple syrup between them. 

“There’s also a severe lack of mountains,” David replies flatly. “So I’ll be dominating a market that has no demand.”

Stevie shrugs her shoulders. “Your idea has to be hypothetical anyway. Make some hypothetical mountains. You can name one after me.”

David rolls his eyes. “I’m not naming a mountain after you. Besides, I have an aversion for winter sports ever since I was dumped on a ski lift when I was 17. Really, there’s nothing like having your pseudo girlfriend tell you she’s leaving you while dangling 40 feet in the air.”

“Well I’m all out of ideas,” Stevie says, leaning back in her seat. “I really think you should go to Ray and ask for an idea. He has a thousand of them.”

“I’m not that desperate for an idea. Yet,” David says. “I have one that I need to just flesh out more at the library. Come find me after you get out of class?” David asks, standing up from the table. 

“I’ll meet you back at your dorm,” Stevie says, also standing. “I have to meet with my group for our midterm project.”

“Woof,” David says, wrinkling his nose. “I will never take for granted how very few group projects I had to endure through.”

“It’s not too bad this semester because Jake is in it too,” Stevie says with a smirk. 

David lets out a snort. “Yeah, he’s been in a lot of things.”

Stevie throws a grape at him as he laughs his way out of the cafeteria and towards the library. 

Elmdale College doesn’t have much to boast about, but their library is stocked well enough and happens to be where David’s favorite place to study is, a small nook at the back of the library past the archives, long and tall metal cabinets that house decades worth of documents, books and magazines. There are two small tables in this nook, David always taking up space in the one next to the wall. Usually it’s just him here, other students not knowing about this secretive section of the library, but sometimes Stevie joins him here too. 

And other times, Patrick Brewer is sat at the other table, head curled over his laptop. 

David likes Patrick well enough. They don’t really talk much. They’ve shared a couple of classes together, including the Advanced Entrepreneurship class he had that morning. They also happen to share the bathroom that’s sandwiched in between their dorm rooms.

It’s a perk only for the senior dorms, two single bedrooms that share a bathroom rather than a communal one like in the underclassmen dorms. And if there was anyone to share a bathroom with, Patrick was an ideal choice. He always kept his side of the sink clean, was always very quick in the mornings, and never said a word against David’s forty seven minute nightly skincare routine. 

And he always made sure the bathroom was well stocked with toilet paper thus avoiding any possibility of an awkward conversation between closed doors. 

David settles into his seat, taking out his notebook and flipping it open onto a blank page, staring down at it while loosely holding a pencil, hoping words just manifest onto the paper. 

“I think you have to move your hand to write,” Patrick chirps from beside him. “That’s how it works for me at least.”

David rolls his eyes. “I’m formulating a concept before eternalizing it with graphite,” David replies dryly. “Don’t want to waste paper on a subpar idea.”

“Ah, is this for the final project?” Patrick asks and David nods solemnly. “Yeah, couldn’t come up with anything either. Lucky for me, Raviv and Sandy already had an idea. I’m in as the numbers guy.”

David wrinkles his nose. “Is that your official title? Or is there room for you to work on it, can’t imagine it’ll be well received on business cards.”

“Shame that’s already been sent to the printers,” Patrick says with a grin. “Patrick Brewer, Your Reliable Numbers Guy. Sounds catchy, no?”

David gives him a blank stare and pointedly puts on his headphones, Patrick smiling even wider.

\\\

“What about something to do with bikes,” Stevie suggests as her head hangs upside down from his bed. 

“Hard pass on that,” David says from his desk as he sketches one of his lotion bottles out of boredom. “Even though this is a figmentation I would like to have some kind of emotional connection to my idea rather than a constant thrum of utter boredom.”

“I thought you rode that bike pretty well last month,” Stevie says. “Alexis only had to push you twice.”

“Alexis also didn’t teach me how to stop the stupid fucking thing,” David sniffs. “I still have the rest of the week to come up with something. I just need to let my mind settle into a safe, contemplative space and something brilliant will come.”

Stevie hums and sits up properly on the bed. “Do you need something to help aid you into entering this safe, contemplative space?”

“If you’re offering what I think you’re offering, then yes, I accept whatever learning aid you might have in your little flannel pocket,” David says, wiggling his finger towards her. 

Twenty minutes later, David and Stevie both have their heads hanging upside down from the bed sideways, their feet propped up against the concrete wall.

“Got any ideas yet for a business?” Stevie asks. 

“A supplementary consumable pabulum to pair with this herby delirium,” David mumbles. 

“What you’re describing is a snack.”

“You’re a snack.”

“During a limited but expired time for you, yes. But I don’t think you can present the concept of snacks as your final.”

“Well fuck,” David sighs out, rubbing his face with his hand. 

“Let’s conclude this brainstorming session for now because all it’s done is inspire my tummy, I’m starving,” Stevie says, rolling off the bed and crawling towards David’s mini-fridge. “What do you have?”

“I have cheese in there,” David says, his leg extended in the air, drawing random patterns with his toe. 

“Blegh, no thanks. Cheese from the cafeteria can’t be trusted,” Stevie says, pawing her way through his food. 

“It’s not from the cafeteria,” David says. “I got it from a farm outside of town. They have goats.”

“When did you go to a farm?” Stevie asks, pulling out the wedge of brie. 

“Last week. I passed by it on my way to pick up more moisturizer from Brenda and they were having an open farm event thingy with free samples.”

“Huh,” Stevie says, unwrapping the cheese. “What other farms are you visiting to collect your wares?”

“Just two, Warner Farms for the cheese and a Mennonite farm for some organic nut butter.  For everything else I just go to people’s houses.”

“And you didn’t think to share all of this with me?”

David snorts. “As if I can have something to myself before you and Alexis get your greedy raccoon hands on it. I’m rationing all of this because it’s too annoying to go everywhere to pick everything up, it’s too spread out and Wendy doesn’t pay me enough on my meager part time salary to be driving around all the time, Roland charges me extra for his gas. If there was a central location for local vendors to sell their things on consignment underneath the umbrella of one brand, then I wouldn’t be squirelling all of this away.”

Both of them are quiet for a few seconds before David bolts up, the momentum of his body making him tumble off the bed and onto the floor in a heap. “Oh my god. I have an idea.”

“About time,” Stevie says with a mouthful of brie. 

David snaps his head towards her. “Did you just bite into that wedge without cutting it?”

“No,” Stevie says, taking another clean bite. 

“Who raised you?!”

\\\

David is back at his desk in the library, fiercely sketching in his notepad several logos for his proposal when a voice over his shoulder asks, “What have you got there?”

David jumps in his seat, dropping his pencil and turns his head and finds Patrick hovering over his shoulder with a curious smile. 

“Oh, I’m um, working on my final,” David says, reaching down to pick up his pencil. 

“Oh, finally came up with an idea?” Patrick asks, setting his backpack down on his desk. 

“I think so,” David says, looking down at his sketches. “It’s something.”

“What is it?” Patrick asks and David hesitates. 

Patrick isn’t like his other classmates, at least he doesn’t present himself that way. He’s never made David feel inadequate, never made him think he didn’t belong at school, and whenever Patrick teases, it’s sharp enough where it pokes at David instead of jabbing him. 

David thinks Patrick can be trusted, but just the mere act of letting himself do that seems difficult, as if he doesn’t know if it’s too early to show the underside of his belly. 

But he’s looking at him with supportive curiosity and before David thinks too much about it, he hands Patrick his sketchbook, his breath catching in his chest as he watches Patrick look through it. 

“Logos?” Patrick asks and David nods. 

“Yes, for my store,” David says, the words sending a small zing down his spine.

“Huh, what kind of store?” 

“A general store, but also a very specific store.”

Patrick gives him an upside down grin that often times both aggravates and delights David. 

“A general store?” Patrick repeats with a hint of a laugh and David feels his body tensing up. 

“Yes,” David says stiffly. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, nothing,” Patrick says with a chuckle. “I just, I don’t know, expected something a little more pizazz-y from you.”

David feels something heavy drop in his stomach and it must show because Patrick’s eyes widen and he immediately begins to backtrack. “Not that there’s anything wrong with this! I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

David’s mouth sets in a hard line and he takes his sketchbook back. “Sure,” he says, packing up his belongings. “Well, I have to go do this...thing.”

“David-” Patrick begins to say but David quickly brushes past him, his long legs carrying him quickly out the library. 

I’m a joke to everyone, he thinks sourly to himself. Well, fuck them all.

\\\

Patrick curses under his breath as he watches David’s retreating figure, his head hunched down to his shoulders. 

Teasing David has always been easy and he always gives as good as he gets, but Patrick didn’t know he hit a sensitive spot until it was too late and David’s face fell and he began to cave into himself.

Patrick knows David works hard to fight against the world’s seemingly endless opinion of him. David may come off as aloof, but Patrick has seen David huddled over his textbooks in the library late into the night, has seen him furiously take notes during the few classes they’ve shared together. 

He knows David has done everything on his own after accidentally eavesdropping on a phone call with his father after their second day of moving into the dorms last semester. Patrick didn’t mean to listen, but the door to David’s side of the bathroom was slightly cracked open when Patrick entered from his side to wash his hands. 

“I’m fine dad,” David sighed into his phone. “As per usual, I am not interested in accepting any kind of supplementary aid from you. I’m doing this on my own, remember?”

Then his mom got on the phone and the conversation quickly veered towards something about the newest spring collection of some upscale designer and Patrick quietly tiptoed back to his room. 

There were rumors about David when he first transferred, whispers about how he couldn’t make it back in New York the moment his family lost their money, forcing him to come here in shame with his tail tucked between his legs. And maybe that’s true, Patrick doesn’t know, but David’s still trying . He didn’t have to come back to school, but David is here and he’s trying , which is braver than anything Patrick has ever done in his life. 

And he laughed at him and his idea. 

He plops down onto the wooden chair at his desk, rubbing a hand down his face. 

He really shouldn’t have teased David for his idea given the fact that he himself struggled to come up with a good idea for the class as well. He happened to luck out when Raviv and Sandy asked if he wanted to join them on their immersive VR accessories business. Although he prefers to feel the crack of a baseball against a bat, Sandy’s 3D renderings for a VR one is still very impressive. 

He had really hoped that taking entrepreneur classes would spark some inspiration for him to realize his lifelong dream of owning his own business, but all it has done is reaffirm his choice to focus on business management rather than entrepreneurship. 

At least David seems to know what he wants. Patrick wishes he could say the same.

With one last sad sigh to himself, Patrick pulls out his economics textbook, pushing away David’s disappointed face to the dark recesses of his mind. 

\\\

“Tell me again what he said?” Stevie asks as she watches David pace back and forth in the motel office. 

“He said my idea wasn’t pizzaz-y enough,” David huffs out. “Which I take great offense of coming from a man that wears mid-range denim.”

“I really don’t think he meant to offend you,” Stevie says. “Patrick was probably just teasing, that’s his love language.”

David immediately stops pacing and turns on his heel to face her, a deep scowl on his face. “Oh no, not that nonsense again.”

“I’m just saying,” Stevie says, raising her hands up in defense. “I’ve seen the way he acts when he’s around you. He’s like a puppy.”

“Patrick Brewer does not like me,” David says, crossing his arms. “He’s a menace and he insulted my business.”

“Well then, show them all,” Stevie says, turning back to her riveting game of solitaire. “Prove them all wrong.”

“Oh I fucking intend on it,” David says with a huff, taking out his notebook and aggressively writing down notes for his store. 

My store. My store is a good idea.

\\\

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good idea , David thinks nervously to himself as he watches Prof. May hand back their proposals, his classmates dropping off like flies one by one, groaning with rejection.

“I must say, some of these were interesting to read. If it’s marked with a check, your proposal has been approved, if marked with an ‘x’, see me after class,” she says. 

I should have done something with bikes, people around here love bikes. Fuck.

David pulls at his fingers as he watches her slowly make her way up the lecture hall to where he’s seated in the back. From the corner of his eye, he sees Patrick and his group exchange happy nods to each other after getting their proposal back. 

Ugh. They’ll probably have the best presentation. I don’t care. Stupid Patrick Brewer and his stupid face. 

“David,” Prof. May says, breaking David out of his thoughts. He looks up at her nervously as she rifles through the papers looking for his. “I look forward to seeing what you do,” she says, handing him his proposal and going to the next student. 

He blinks at her retreating back before looking down at his paper. A big red check is marked on the top left corner. His body sags back into his seat and he lets himself smile. 

“Guessing your idea was approved?” A voice asks and David jumps. 

“Fuck!” David hisses and Patrick takes a step back, holding up his hands.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Patrick says sheepishly. 

David huffs and begins to collect his things, keeping his eyes away from Patrick. 

“So,” Patrick says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Looks like we’re one of the lucky few.” Patrick nods down towards the bottom of the lecture hall where a line of students wait to speak with Prof. May.

“Yes, well,” David says, standing up from his seat, still not looking at Patrick. “I guess my idea was just pizzaz-y enough.”

David quickly walks out of the lecture hall, ready to retreat back into the safety of his dorm room when Patrick skids in front of him, stopping him in his path. 

“David listen-”

“No, you listen,” David says, pointing a finger at him. Patrick’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking down and David feels like shit. “Okay, that came out way harsher than I meant it to.”

“No, I deserve it,” Patrick replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have made fun of your idea like that, before you even told me anything about it. I’m sorry David.”

David stares at him with surprise, his finger still hovering in the air. “I, uh, thanks?”

Patrick rocks back and forth on his feet and looks up at him through his eyelashes and David can’t stop himself from thinking how beautiful Patrick is. 

Still a jerk though.

“Listen, I want to make amends so how about an olive branch?”

“An olive branch?” David repeats back weakly. 

“If you need any help with the numbers side of things, I can help you. I know you had some trouble last semester-”

“Excuse you, all I did was ask to see your notes,” David says defensively. 

“I also helped you with most of our homework and gave you a copy of my study guide,” Patrick says smugly and David bristles. 

“Fine,” David relents. “I may have requested some assistance, but I can handle this on my own thanks so much.”

Patrick shrugs one shoulder. “Well if you need help, you know where I live,” he says with a wink and David hates that he finds that adorable. 

“Noted,” David says with a grimace. He puts on his sunglasses and walks briskly past Patrick. 

I will not ask Patrick for help.

\\\

I should ask Patrick for help , David thinks miserably to himself as he stares at his forlorn spreadsheet with bitter contempt. 

It’s just, he knows his numbers are right but this thing isn’t doing the thing it’s supposed to do with its fancy functions that automatically do the math for him very nicely only it’s not doing the thing and he’s stressed.

David tips his head back and groans up towards the ceiling. 

David stands up from his desk chair, shakes out his hands a little, and makes his way through their shared bathroom until he’s standing in front of Patrick’s door. 

He knocks softly and waits for Patrick’s, “Come in!” before pushing the door open gently and poking his head through. 

Patrick is lounging on his bed with his laptop on his lap looking relaxed and not at all frantically distressed like David is feeling. “What’s up David?”

“I want it to be clear that this does not mean I don’t know what I’m doing,” David says, pointing a finger at Patrick’s expanding grin. “No, nuh uh, none of that whatever is on your face.”

“Sorry David, it just sounds like you’re asking for-”

“Begrudgingly!” David says, cutting him off. “There is no joy in what I am about to ask you, but I am at a point where I would rather deal with the consequences of your smugness than fail, so,” David finishes, pulling at his hands. 

Patrick’s face softens and he moves his laptop off on him and swings his legs around to the long edge of his twin bed, patting a space next to him. “Bring your computer here and I’ll help you.”

And that’s how David finds himself that evening, Patrick patiently walking him through how to properly format his spreadsheets. And David is paying attention, or really trying to, but Patrick is pressed tightly beside him, his strong thigh warm against David’s and the smell of his shampoo is intoxicating. Which is ridiculous because David stares at Patrick’s generic shampoo bottle every morning in their shower with contempt. 

“So really you just had to tweak this and this,” Patrick says, pointing at David’s computer screen pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“I wish it were that easy,” David murmurs to himself as he makes the necessary changes with Patrick’s guidance. 

“It will be. Everyone starts somewhere and really you had everything right, just a few minor adjustments here and there,” Patrick says with a smile and David feels the corner of his lips twitching up. 

“Thanks,” he says softly.

“So,” Patrick says, stretching out his legs. “I couldn’t help but notice some of the items you’ll be selling. What exactly is body milk?”

“It’s a liquid moisturizer,” David explains. “There’s a local woman that makes an amazing line of skincare products that helps me maintain my perfect complexion.”

Patrick gives him that infuriatingly adorable upside down smile. “So...you can’t drink it?”

“No,” David says looking horrified. “It’s milk for your body,” David says, gesturing down the length of his body, Patrick’s eyes following his movement which is...interesting. 

“Sure,” Patrick says, clearing his throat. “What about these other products?”

David launches into his business, going into his vision, what he hopes to do, who he hopes to help. And Patrick listens to him, nods and smiles and genuinely seems interested in listening to him which makes him feel a lot. 

“So it’ll basically be a general store, but a very specific store that will support local artists under the brand of the store,” David finishes. 

“There are a lot of things listed on here,” Patrick says, scrolling through David’s mock up inventory list. “I know this is all hypothetical, but you don’t want to spend too much money upfront. You might have to go a full year without any profit.”

“Well what about curating a selection of products from local vendors and selling them on consignment in a one-stop-shop retail environment that benefits both the vendor and the customer?” David volleys back and delights in the way Patrick’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. 

Yeah take that asshole.

“David,” Patrick says, shaking his head and David braces himself for the worst. “I’m really impressed.”

“Oh,” David says, quietly and surprised. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to tell me about your store before,” Patrick says gently. “I shouldn’t have made assumptions like that.”

“Okay,” David says quietly. “I appreciate that.”

Patrick smiles at him and looks back at David’s computer screen. “I know this project is completely imaginary, but I can’t help but think that this is exactly the kind of thing we need around here.”

“You think so?” David says unsurely. 

“I do,” Patrick says, nodding his head. “It’s a good idea, rebranding local products and crafts, it’s very inventive.”

David blushes and looks away.

“And I like the name, Rose Apothecary,” Patrick says. “It’s just pretentious enough.”

“Would we call that pretentious or...timeless?”

Patrick laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his cheeks pink and David once again can’t help but think again that he looks quite beautiful. 

Stop it.

“I um,” David says, picking at his thumb. “The more I work on this, the more I want it to be real, you know? I’ve taken on a couple of extra shifts at work so I can buy some packaging and products for the fair to give out as samples. I also mood boarded my booth and have a logo made up,” David says, pulling up his mockups on his computer. 

“Wow, I wish I was this creative,” Patrick comments, looking over David’s designs. 

David rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder against Patrick’s. “Says the guy who’s at the top of our class.”

Patrick shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve worked hard for my grades, but I know it’s not a reflection of everything. I can make spreadsheets and crunch numbers and recite a bunch of fancy business words, but there are some things you can’t learn through a textbook. I know I’ll be good as a consultant or working at some firm, but I’ve always wanted to run my own business, something that can help people, something fulfilling.”

“You don’t think you can do that?” David asks curiously. 

“Not really,” Patrick says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I would need a partner, someone who wasn’t afraid to get creative. Someone to push me to be bolder. I would want to run something that could really be something special, like your store,” Patrick says, looking at him with wide, honest eyes and David feels his breath catch in his chest. 

“Well um,” David breathes out. “I wouldn’t mind having someone like you to work with,” he says slowly. “You can help with all the numbers stuff,” David says waving his hand in the air. “I would handle all of the creative decisions of course.”

Patrick grins at him. “I would be very comfortable with that. Now I’m wishing I partnered up with you for the project.”

David blushes and twists his mouth so that it’s pushed to the side to keep his grin down. “The exciting world of VR accessories not fulfilling enough for you?”

“Honestly no,” Patrick says with a laugh. “Raviv and Sandy are great, but our project isn’t something that I would call fulfilling work. But they asked and I couldn’t come up with anything on my own so here we are.”

“It’s a good thing it’s all imaginary then, no real commitment after we get our final grade.”

“So we won’t be seeing a Rose Apothecary in the area any time soon?” Patrick teases. 

“No,” David snorts. “The dream is there, but I wouldn’t know where to even start.”

“Are you sure about that, because I think what I’m seeing in front of me is a business plan,” Patrick says, gesturing towards the laptop. 

David bites his bottom lip. “But all of this is a hypothetical created in a world with perfect circumstances.”

“I think you can do it,” Patrick says confidently. “I think you can do anything actually.”

And the sincerity in his voice makes David believe for a moment that he can too, especially with how Patrick is looking at him, his warm eyes looking at David as if he’s someone special, someone important and extraordinary. 

So he can’t help how his body leans towards Patrick, how Patrick also seems to be leaning in too, his eyes flickering down to his lips until his phone begins to blare from beside him, the both of them springing backwards quickly. 

“Fuck,” David hisses out, reaching for his phone. “Sorry, sorry. Dammit it’s my dad.”

“No it’s okay,” Patrick says, rubbing the back of his neck. “You should take that. I have to um, finish up my paper anyway.”

David swallows hard and nods tightly, hopping down from Patrick’s bed and closing his laptop and hugging it tight to his body. “Thank you for helping. I really do appreciate it.”

Patrick smiles at him and David’s tummy swoops. “It’s no problem David, I’m always here to help.”

David smiles shyly at him and scurries over to his bedroom, closing his bathroom door gently behind him and picking up his phone. “ What?! ”

“Son!” His dad says happily on the other line. “How are you doing? Just wanted to check in.”

“I’m fine,” David huffs out. “I was in the middle of something before I was rudely interrupted by your call.”

“Oh I’m sorry David,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. “Just wanted to call and ask if things were going okay, I know finals are coming up.”

“You don’t have to check up on me like this dad,” David says, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s really unnecessary.”

“I know, I just worry. I have complete faith in you David, but I called because I also wanted to talk to you about your options after you graduate.”

David feels himself hesitate, his conversation with Patrick still a little too raw and new, but excitement still bubbles in his chest. “Actually I um, I think I have an idea of what I want to do.”

“That’s exciting son! What is it?”

“Well,” David says, clearing his throat and sitting down on his desk chair. “I’m thinking of running my own business, um, opening up a store in the area.”

His dad is quiet on the other line but he can hear his mom quietly say in the background, “Oh John, no. ”

“Um, I can hear you, and what do you mean no ?” David asks wildly. 

“Well,” his dad says, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Your mother and I just have some concerns about you jumping into running your own business so soon after graduating. It’s a very big step David.”

“I know,” David says, annoyed. “Which is why I enrolled in school in the first place, to learn how to do all this and now I would like to take what I learned and bring it all into fruition.”

“David,” his mom’s voice rings through the phone. “We are simply expressing apprehension for you. You’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Well there’s no need for you to worry,” David replies. “I helped run that gallery in New York, remember?”

They’re both quiet again and David feels something ugly pooling in his stomach.

“About that,” his dad says nervously. “Fine gallery that was, really interesting and unique and the work you did there was very impressive, but there is something you should know, and I hope this doesn’t change your opinion about us, but it’s only right that you’re aware that um, well you see son-”

“Oh my god just spit it out!” David says angrily. 

“We asked Kassandra for a favor,” his mother blurts out. 

“What?!” 

“Kassandra is an old acquaintance of ours, we met in Barcelona back in 1986-”

“Get back to the point please,” David demands, rubbing his temple. 

“We asked Kassandra if she could take you on as an intern in exchange for a financial endorsement-”

“You paid my boss to hire me?!” 

“We may have inspired her to accept you as her protogé. But honestly David, can you blame us? We were tormented by the thought of you being by yourself in New York at such a young age, we wanted to make sure you were looked after.”

“Okay you know what, I am deeply disappointed in your meddling, but I still brought in all those patrons for those events, so clearly I am still capable despite your inappropriate interference.”

“Ah yes, of course,” his dad says with a nervous chuckle. “It’s possible that-”

“Oh my god! ”

“We may have inspired a few more people as well.”

David feels himself go cold with shock. 

“I can’t believe this,” David mumbles to himself. “So you’re telling me my entire professional career was a sham?”

“We helped you because we could!” His mom says. “Now I realize that might not have been best for you or your autonomy-”

“Okay,” David snaps. “Now I guess I’ll never find out if I could have succeeded on my own.”

“David-”

He hangs up the phone and throws it onto his bed. When he feels tears beginning to prickle the corners of his eyes, he covers his face with his hands, pitching forward until his elbows are on his knees, taking big gulping breaths through his mouth.

He feels sick to his stomach, the ugliness spreading throughout his body as every terrible whisper takes over his head. 

You’re not good enough. You can’t do this on your own. You’re nothing without them. 

“Fuck,” he whispers miserably to himself. 

\\\

Patrick keeps looking behind him hoping to catch a glimpse of David. He can’t help it, ever since that night in his bedroom when they were on the cusp of having a moment , Patrick hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about David and his eyes and his smile. He’s gotten up extra early every morning to hike out the tension, but all it’s done is create more questions inside of him. 

He knew David was smart and capable but just how smart and capable he was Patrick never knew. And it’s doing some confusing things to him.

Listening to him talk about the store was mesmerizing, David going into detail of all the potential vendors, the vision for a brick and mortar store, label designs, marketing strategy and his hopes of providing organic and sustainable products to the community.

It’s just, it was really really nice to watch him be so creative. 

And hot , the little voice inside of him adds, a revelation he discovered during this morning’s panic hike. 

He wants to talk to David about it more, because he meant what he said. Patrick thinks David can do it. 

But he can’t talk to him because as he turns around to look back again, David still has not come to class. 

He has no reason to worry, skipping class isn’t the end all be all. Only David also didn’t show up to their Accounting and Financial Management class last night which David always makes sure to come to. And when Patrick knocked on his door after class to check up on him, there had been no answer so Patrick assumed he might be out with Stevie. 

When class reaches its halfway mark, Patrick stops looking back, figuring David would have shown up by now if he had a late start to his morning. But he can’t stop thinking about it. 

“We’re only a couple of weeks away until the fair,” Prof. May reminds the class. “Although this won’t affect your final grade, the best presentation gets the grand prize of a $5 giftcard to the Hot Beans cafe.”

“That prize is so ours,” Raviv whispers to Patrick. He gives him a tight smile and a nod, not at all interested in winning the prize. He’s putting in the work for the project, using every trick he’s learned into making perfect mockup spreadsheets and he’s confident they’ll do well. But thinking of spreadsheets only makes him think of David now, how closely he sat next to him in his bed that night, how his thigh pressed against his, a long line of heat searing into his body. 

After class is over, Patrick rushes back to his room and crosses through their bathroom to David’s door. He knocks gently and calls out, “David?”

There is no response on the other side and Patrick feels himself deflate. He goes back into his bedroom and throws himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling lost. 

\\\

David waves goodbye to Jocelyn who just bought a truly horrific tangerine skirt with neon green limes with a barely controlled grimace. He slumps against the counter once she’s out of sight, groaning to himself when his phone tells him he still has three hours left in his shift. 

He hasn’t been to any of his classes the last two days, choosing to spend his time wallowing with despair in his bed or feeling the last remnants of his broken soul waste away at the Blouse Barn. 

At least he’s being paid to be anguished. 

He’s grateful to Wendy for giving him a chance despite their less than ideal first impressions and he’s been able to make suitable changes to the store. Although because he’s only there part time, Wendy always makes sure to add her “magic touch” on his days off, such as acquiring an absurd amount of fruit embellished apparel much to David’s disgust. 

He takes his duster and begins dusting the shelves carefully, eyeing the rack of frankly insulting garments that Wendy has called the, “Take a Bite out of Summer Collection” when the bell above the door rings and he hears Alexis call out, “Oh my god, David! Look at you! You’re like a little housemaid!”

Alexis enters the shop with quick and confident steps, tilting her sunglasses from over her eyes and placing them on top of her head. It’s been a full week since he’s seen his sister even though Alexis also attends classes at Elmdale, but Alexis chose to live at the motel with her parents instead of on campus, claiming to not want to deal with the, “icky, gross sophomore bathrooms.” But David suspects a young vet tech in Schitt’s Creek might also be the reason why. 

David snarls at her, baring his teeth a little. “What are you doing here? You’re prohibited from this property.”

Alexis rolls her eyes and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Ugh, as if, Wendy loves me, especially because I helped her set up her Bumpkin profile that one time.”

“What do you want, Alexis?” David demands, crossing his arms. 

“I was just in the neighborhood,” she says innocently, fluttering around the store. 

“They sent you, didn’t they?” 

“Well can you blame them? You’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls and texts,” Alexis says exasperatedly. “I’ve been sent to do a wellness check because you’re being so pouty.”

“I’m sorry for being appropriately desecrated by our parent’s betrayal!”

“They’re not like, purposefully trying to sabotage you!” Alexis says, throwing her hands up. “They thought they were helping which like, yeah, mom and dad suck at it, but David what were they supposed to think? You left for New York making such a big deal about doing everything on your own and after just like, one semester you changed your mind! Mom and dad wanted to make sure you did something instead of wandering around Soho eating dollar slices like a sad, lost puppy.”

David scoffs and turns away from her. “They could have been better about it.”

“ Obviously ,” Alexis huffs out. “But you can either be this sad, pathetic thing.” David growls at her as she continues. “ Or you can rise above this like a phoenix or like a swan.”

David sighs out loudly and tilts his head up towards the ceiling, his eyes closed tightly. “Ugh. Fine. I guess you’re right.”

“ Of course I am ,” she croons. 

“I’m still mad at them,” David interjects. “But a little less mad now.”

“Good,” Alexis says, booping him on the nose, David trying to bite her finger. “Oh my god, don’t be a gross raccoon David.”

“Okay, now that you’ve done what you’ve been sent to do, shoo,” David says, waving her away. “I have a job to do.”

“Ugh, a thank you would be nice.”

“ Thank you for interrupting my day. Be gone.”

But just as David all but pushes Alexis out of the store, Wendy comes busting through, her body a flutter with anxious energy.

“Oh David, good I’m glad you’re here,” Wendy says quickly, her heels clacking loudly on the wooden floor. 

“Um, of course I’m here, I’m your only employee-”

“Well, I’m afraid that won’t be the case for much longer,” she says regrettably. “I’m going to have to let you go.”

“What?!” David and Alexis exclaim. 

“It seems I overshot my budget with some of the changes you’ve been implementing,” Wendy says, gesturing around the store. “But fortunately I’ve gotten some good news. Apparently there is a Blouse Barn in Australia, and they are going to pay me to use their name here!” She says, walking towards the back to her office. “Can you believe it?”

“Oh my god,” David says, following after her, Alexis right behind him. 

\\\

Patrick is staring blankly ahead, seated in his favorite spot in the library when someone plops their bag down very loudly beside him. He looks up excitedly, hoping to see David, but Stevie is there instead, smirking at him. 

“Oh,” Patrick says, disappointed. “Hi Stevie.”

“Hi,” she says dryly. “Waiting for someone?”

Patrick sighs and throws his pencil on the desk. “No,” he mumbles. 

Stevie hums from beside him, sitting on the desk, her feet resting on the chair. “Were you hoping I was David?”

“No,” he answers quickly. “Just, uh, that’s his spot. So.”

“Well he’s at work right now,” she says, picking at her nails. “Took on an extra shift today.”

Patrick hesitates before asking. “Is he um, is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Stevie answers. “Had a bit of a rough patch, but he texted me ten minutes ago, said he and Alexis are trying to figure out a thing. But it sounds like he’s bounced back from whatever he’s been going through.”

“Good, that’s good,” Patrick says relieved. 

Stevie peers at him carefully before her mouth pulls into a predatory grin. “You were worried about him.”

“Well, he hasn’t been in class!” Patrick says defensively. “And he’s always in the bathroom from 9:15 pm until 10:02 but it’s been empty.”

“Huh,” Stevie says to herself and Patrick begins to fidget in his seat. “Well I think he’ll soon be back to hogging up your bathroom so be prepared.”

Patrick grins at her and laughs. 

“So, what’s your final project about?” Stevie asks, digging through her bag for an apple. 

“Oh, it’s a VR accessories company,” Patrick says, tugging on a loose thread on his hoodie. “Kind of boring.”

“Not as boring as David’s.”

Patrick’s head snaps up quickly. “Actually, David’s idea is quite brilliant. He would be filling in a gap and providing an easy and convenient solution to the community by centralizing local crafts and products while also helping the vendors. And as he grows the business, so will his contacts which means bringing in more products and also give craftspeople the opportunity to expand and grow their lines they otherwise wouldn’t be able to do if not for the sustainable income the store will provide to them.”

Stevie is giving him a shark's grin and Patrick feels his entire face beginning to heat up. “O-or so he says.”

Stevie eats her apple while staring Patrick down. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that David doesn’t have a very high opinion of himself.”

Patrick clenches his fists tightly. “I may have noticed that, yeah,” he mumbles. 

“Partly has to do with New York,” she says. “It wasn’t fun for him when he was there. Not to get into too many details, but no one there took him seriously. Thought he was there on his parent’s wallet, riding on the nepotism.”

Patrick scowls. “That’s stupid, I’ve seen the way he studies for his classes. He’s doing this all on his own.”

“He is,” she says, nodding her head. “But people are assholes and when enough people tell you you’re not capable of doing anything, then after a certain point I guess you start to believe that.”

“They’re wrong,” Patrick says with conviction. 

Stevie snorts. “We both know that. It’s about getting David to believe it now.” Stevie finishes her apple and throws the core into a nearby trash can. 

“How do we do that?”

Stevie shrugs her shoulders and picks up her satchel. “I’m not sure, it’s something he has to figure out on his own too. But I’m in for the ride, are you?”

And Stevie looks at him with a fierce protectiveness that leaves him a little speechless, only capable of nodding his head at first before his own wave of determination floods in. “I am.”

Stevie gives him one last smirk before walking away. 

\\\

David’s sure he’s blacked out because there is absolutely no way he’s holding a check for $40,000 in his hand right now. 

“You weren’t kidding,” Stevie says from over his shoulder. “That’s fucking wild.”

“I know,” David murmurs to himself. 

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Well, my family has already put in a request for a car,” David says, rolling his eyes. “Which I might be inclined to provide despite my tumultuous relationship with them right now. It’ll make it easier for Alexis to come and go from class instead of borrowing Ted and Ray’s car all the time and I feel like I owe her for being with me. Granted she nearly ruined the negotiations, but she put on a fashion pony for me which I appreciate. But other than that, I’m not sure.”

“I think my idea is the best,” Stevie says, launching her body onto David’s bed. 

“I’m not buying a weed farm.”

“Just think about it.”

“You’re a menace.”

“How about just a bunch of weed then?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

David doesn’t answer her, just continues to stare at the check feeling something beginning to take shape in his chest. He’s felt it before, back when he first applied for college and got into NYU on his own. But now it feels stronger, more substantial. 

It feels a bit like hope. 

“I’m going to use this to invest in my business,” David says aloud to himself. 

“What?”

David turns around in his chair to face Stevie. “I’m going to use some of this money for my project. I’ve worked a bunch of extra shifts at the Blouse Barn so some of that money with some of this can go towards making sample packaging to give out during the fair. It’ll be a trial run to see if this store can really be something, and if it is, I’m going to open it after I graduate.”

Stevie stares at him with shock from his bed. 

“I want to do this. I know I can do this,” David says firmly. 

Stevie blinks at him before she smiles at him, something big and wide, completely different from her normal impish smirks. She chucks a pillow at his head. 

“Fucking finally.”

\\\

David is typing madly into his computer at his regular desk in the library when he sees someone set down a cup of coffee in front of him. David’s head snaps up and meets the eyes of Patrick Brewer who is smiling softly at him. 

“Hi,” David breathes out. 

“Hi,” Patrick says, just as gently. “Whatchu working on? You look focused.”

“Oh,” David says, shaking his head. “I’m just finalizing some designs for my project. I have to send these to a printer so that I can have them ready by the fair.”

“Those are a lot of labels,” Patrick observes. “How many extra shifts at the Blouse Barn did you pick up?”

“A few, but um, unfortunately due to some unforeseen circumstances, I’ve had to part ways with the Blouse Barn,” David says with a grimace. “But a bit of money actually came my way so I’m using some of that to fund this experimental venture.”

Patrick continues to scan David’s order list. “David, are you sure it’s wise to spend so much of your own money on a school project?”

David freezes up in his seat. “Well, I’m um, I’m really hoping to do well on this, you know a triumphant farewell to my journey through higher education.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t have to spend so much of your hard earned money to fund this,” Patrick says. “I know something you can do instead.”

“What is that exactly?” David asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“You can apply for student grants,” Patrick explains. “The school has a few you qualify for as well as some outside applications specifically for students studying entrepreneurship.”

“Oh,” David says, blinking at him. “That, that sounds very helpful.”

Patrick shoves his hands into his jeans and rocks back and forth a bit. “I can help you apply for those grants if you want.”

David softens, his insides melting into goo. “You don’t have to do that,” he says softly. 

“I’d like to,” Patrick says firmly. “I want to help you. Like I said, I really like your idea and I think it deserves a chance to become something real, even if it’s only for a day.”

“But what about your project? And your other classes?”

“I’m all caught up,” Patrick says, shrugging his shoulders. “I finished my portion of the project, I’m actually on my way to work with the rest of my group, but other than meeting up a couple of more times, I have the time to help you.”

David bites his lip and stares at his computer screen. “If you’re not too busy with your own work, and I really mean it,” David says seriously, pointing a finger at Patrick. “Then yes, I would like to accept your help.”

Patrick smiles at him. “Good. Why don’t you come by my room around nine?”

David feels his smile beginning to creep up his face, so he pushes into his cheek and looks away. “Okay,” he says quietly. 

“Okay,” Patrick repeats back to him. “I have to go meet up with my group now, but I’ll see you at nine, David.”

“See you then. Wait! You left your drink,” David says, picking up the coffee cup. 

“That’s yours,” Patrick says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was at Hot Beans ordering a tea and they gave me that by mistake. I only drink tea so I figured maybe you’d want that.”

“Well, that was nice of you,” David says surprised. 

“It’s uh, it’s no big deal,” Patrick says, waving his hand and looking around. “I’ll see you later,” he says before hastily walking away, David watching him with a shy smile. 

\\\

David waves goodbye to Brenda, his hand sticking out the window as she waves back, his order tucked carefully in the backseat of his family’s new car. It’s been a whirlwind of activity the last few weeks, David scrambling all around the Greater Elms to pick up orders from his vendors and spending his nights packaging it all up, carefully sticking his freshly printed labels onto small sample containers. 

Patrick was right about the grants and helped David secure enough funds for his project without dipping into his own savings. The smile Patrick gave him when the first grant check came through still tickles the back of his neck. 

David knows he might be putting more work than is necessary into this project, but once he started it, he doesn’t seem to be able to stop. 

His parent’s betrayal is still fresh, a barely healed bruise that stills throbs, but he can’t deny that it hasn’t fueled something inside of him, hasn’t made him want to do something good. 

And more so than that, he wants this, wants his store and all the good that can come with it. 

\\\

The fair is held in the gymnasium, students from the advanced entrepreneurship class given tables in the center of the room, while various other booths are set up around the perimeter, recruitment representatives, career advancement aids, as well as a few student clubs hoping to wrangle in new members. 

David was able to secure a table furthest from the door and at the end of the row which gives him enough space to breathe, or more accurately panic silently as he sets up his products. 

He has a banner secured on the front of his table, Rose Apothecary printed proudly for all of the attendants to see. He has small, reusable containers of Brenda’s moisturizer, body milk and lip balm lined neatly at the front, a large glass jar of body salt with a metal scoop and small paper bags ready for anyone who wants to take a sample, small blocks of organic oatmeal soap wrapped in parchment paper with twine, metal tins with some of Mr. Hockley’s finest leaves that people can sniff through before selecting a mesh tea bag of their choosing, his favorite soy candles from Colleen with notes of bergamot and orange, and finally a beautiful cheese tray from Heather Warner’s farm, large wedges in the small cooler underneath the table. 

Behind him is a presentation board of his work, preliminary designs of his labels, mockups of the packaging, sketches of a brick and mortar location with color swatches of sand and stone and warm woody browns. 

He submitted his paper the day before, mock up spreadsheets, profit projections and the explanation of his business, a general store, but also a very specific store. 

Stevie begrudgingly volunteered to come and help him once she was done with her final, demanding her payment be in cheese for sacrificing her time for the sake of entertaining his peers. He sneered at her before setting aside a large wedge of brie. 

After he’s satisfied with the arrangement of his booth, David finally takes a moment to scan the rest of the gymnasium at his other classmates and feels something heavy drop into the pit of his stomach. It’s clear that David is one of only a few students who decided to go with traditional retail, everyone else veering towards tech companies. He can see a few mobile apps, a tech security business for bike locks, and of course Patrick’s group, high tech accessories for VR sports games. 

He’s proud of his store, never been prouder of anything really. But David can’t stop the doubt that begins to creep into his head as he fiddles with one of the candles. 

“Hey,” a voice says from behind him. David whips around and finds Patrick grinning at him, his hands shoved into his pockets, his blue polo shirt stretched nicely across his chest. 

“Hi,” David breathes out. “Nice shirt,” he says with a smirk. 

Patrick blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah it was Raviv’s idea that we all match. Said we should look like a cohesive team and all that.”

“Mhm,” David hums. “Very Silicon Valley on a casual Tuesday afternoon,” he teases. 

Patrick chuckles and shakes his head. “So, you got everything set up?” Patrick asks, walking closer to David’s table. 

He feels his nerves ratcheting up again, scared to hear what Patrick has to say because his opinion matters. Patrick has watched David build his idea up, he knows David now. 

Patrick picks up one of the small glass bottles of body milk, turning it over in his hands with a smile. “Are you sure this doesn’t need to be refrigerated?”

“Oh my god,” David says, raising his hands in exasperation. “We have been over this before, anyone with a fiber of common sense would know that it’s not actually milk.”

But Patrick is smiling at him with the stupid upside grin and David tries to tamp his own smile down and says, “Oh, fuck off.”

Patrick laughs and David wants to hear more of it. 

“So um,” David says nervously. “What uh, what do you think?”

Patrick looks back at the table, his face gentle. “I think you really have something here, David.”

And those words flutter inside of David in a way that can become dangerously addicting if he’s not careful, especially with how Patrick is looking at him now. 

“I should head back to my group,” Patrick says, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. “But good luck David.” And he opens up his arms for a hug and David hesitates for a moment before stepping into Patrick space, wrapping his arms around him, and David just melts.  

Patrick holds him like he’s important, like he’s proud of David and it takes everything inside of him not to nuzzle into his neck like some touch starved cat, so he squeezes him one more time and steps away, immediately grasping onto his hands so that he doesn’t try and reach for Patrick again. 

“Thank you,” David rushes out, his heart hammering in his chest. “For helping me. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Patrick chuckles and shakes his head. “Yes you could have,” he says and turns around to walk back to his table. 

\\\

Patrick’s booth has a lot of visitors due to its position near the entrance. He answers questions from other students and professors, explaining their business model and the designs for future prototypes to eager ears. 

The response they’ve gotten has all been positive and Patrick is thrilled, but his eyes keep shifting over to David’s table, seeking him out in a sea of faces because he just can’t help himself. 

His body finally came down from its high after that hug with David, every nerve in his body tingling from the sensation of David’s arms around him, the fuzzy fabric tickling his nose. He really thought it was just going to be a quick, platonic, run of the mill hug. But what it evoked inside of him indicates that it’s much more than that. 

He’s watching David explaining some of the products to a group of students when Prof. May steps up to their table with a clipboard and her pen poised in her hand. 

“Hello team E-Quip,” she greets. “How has everything been?”

“Great, a lot of positive reception so far,” Raviv says. “People really seem to be enjoying Sandy’s designs,” he says, pointing to the intricate mockups Sandy drew by hand, tacked onto the presentation board behind them. 

“They are incredibly impressive,” Prof. May replies, making Sandy blush. “Now, in your paper, you described this business as, ‘The future leader of innovative VR technology made to blend traditional sports with the digital world’’. Are there currently any other companies who are developing this technology?”

“Yes, but we believe we can set ourselves apart by the marketing strategy Raviv created,” Sandy answers. “Partnering with prominent esports names as well as athletes through an intensive social media campaign in order to blitz the market.”

“Ah yes, the market, tell me, what percentage of the market makes VR accessories?”

“Roughly about 30%,” Patrick answers. “Which is very high for just one category within a market.”

“But we’re confident our business is capable of disrupting the market,” Raviv adds. 

“30%,” Prof. May writes down on her clipboard. “The projections you submitted seemed very ambitious, a bit idealistic, but this is all hypothetical so I’ll allow it. Although I must commend you on the quality of the spreadsheets you submitted,” she says, giving Patrick a wink. “What are the chances of you making a profit within an oversaturated industry?”

“Well it’s a 50 billion dollar industry-” Raviv begins to say before being swiftly cut off. 

“Market size does not equate to sales,” Prof. May says with a pointed look and Raviv grimaces. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to enter a pre-existing market, but you better make sure you’re going in with your best idea, something that really makes you stand apart from others. And really the designs you have are very creative,” she says. “But disruptors don’t call themselves disruptors, they show it with their numbers.”

Patrick feels his group deflate a little at her words. 

“Your project was well thought out and well executed,” Prof. May says kindly. “Was it too optimistic? Perhaps, but you should all be proud of the work you put in nonetheless. And the marketing proposal you submitted was strong, but remember that confidence goes a long way when it’s fueled by humility,” she finishes. She gives them one last nod before moving onto the next group who have been watching them with wide and fearful eyes. 

“Well that was brutal,” Sandy says, letting out a long breath. 

“Damn, I really wanted that giftcard,” Raviv mutters. 

“How about I buy you a muffin at Hot Beans as a consolation prize,” Patrick says, clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Okay I’m a little bummed out and stuff, but now that’s out of the way, I’m going to that booth over there,” Sandy says, pointing at David. “I have watched enough people walk back and forth with samples and I am dying to try some of that cheese.”

“Cheese?” Raviv asks, perking up. 

“Come on,” Sandy says, pulling Raviv with her. “Cheese is superior to a stale muffin.”

Patrick chuckles and follows closely behind them, excited to see how David has been doing. 

\\\

David is fucking swamped.

It started off slow enough, only a few people making their way towards David. But about half an hour in, a rush of people swarmed his table, the effect of one of his pseudo-patrons raving about the sample of body milk to all their friends. And now David is desperately trying to answer questions while also replenishing his stock. 

“The body milk has almond oil and shea butter that’ll definitely help with your dry skin,” David tells one of the economics professors as he hands her a bottle. “It’s paraben-free with a very light lavender scent that won’t irritate your skin at all.”

“Where can I buy more of this cheese?” A student to his left asks. 

“Warner Farms supplied the cheese today. They’re right outside of Elm Grove, a family run business with award winning goats. They’re currently only selling it at their farm, but they’re hoping to reach a broader market with the help of an exclusivity deal with a retailer.”

“Oh my god, this candle smells amazing ,” Sandy from his advanced entrepreneurship class says as she elbows her way to the front. 

“Oh wow, good cheese too,” Raviv says with a mouthful of brie. 

David’s face twists with distaste and he hears a warm chuckle from beside him and turns to find Patrick by his side and David feels butterflies erupting in his belly at Patrick’s smile. 

“Hi,” David breathes out. 

“Hey,” Patrick says softly. “Need some help?”

“Oh um, but what about your booth?” David asks, turning around to face it. 

“No one is interested in our booth right now,” Patrick says, shrugging his shoulders. “This is where the crowd seems to be,” he says with a smile. 

And that’s when David really takes in the scene around him and the crowd his little booth has accumulated. All of his other classmates and professors seem to have made their way towards him and he’s suddenly even more overwhelmed. 

“Well then god yes,” David says with relief. “Stevie should be here soon, she has a final today, but if you can help hand out samples that would be great,” David says, handing him a box of lip balms. 

“No problem,” Patrick says and easily falls into the rhythm David has established. They work together efficiently, Patrick handling the crowd, making sure no one gets too grabby with the samples and David answering all the questions thrown his way. 

“This is really amazing David,” Esther, one of his other classmates, gushes. 

“Yeah, I can’t get enough of this stuff,” Lucas, who David convinced about the importance of daily moisturizer, chimes in. 

“Yeah Rose, you never would have known your family lost their money with all this stuff you were able to get,” Todd says with a smirk. Todd, who David has shared several classes with over the last few years, has been one of the not so subtle voices that always seems to have an opinion about David. 

“I funded this on my own,” David replies tensely, hating the drop in his stomach as the crowd quiets down a bit. And to think he has been having a good time up until now. “With grants I applied for, my family was not involved.”

“And who paid for those grants-”

“Hey Todd, why don’t I wash your mouth out with this organic 100% cold pressed lemongrass oatmeal soap-” Patrick says, stepping forward in David’s defense which is doing all kinds of things to David right now. 

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Prof May says, appearing quickly through the crowd and stepping up towards the front of David’s booth. “Mr. Smalls, Mr. Brewer, I believe you both have booths that need attending to?”

Patrick clenches his jaw and hands David back the box of candles, continuing to glare at Todd over the table. “I’ll come find you later,” he murmurs quietly to David, squeezing his hand once and stomping back to his booth, the feeling of Patrick’s hand seared into his skin.  

Prof. May is able to shoo most of the crowd away, people groaning with promises to visit David’s booth again later. 

“My, you’ve generated quite a bit of talk,” Prof. May says, jotting notes onto her clipboard. “Seems like you’ve been able to nail the most tried and true marketing strategy.”

Oh shit, it begins just like that. Fuck.

“Yes,” David says, his voice cracking a bit. “I’ll never again underestimate the power of a free sample.”

Prof. May laughs and surveys his table. “Rose Apothecary,” she says as she picks up a bottle of body milk. “Selling local products and crafts on consignment, correct?”

“Yes,” David says, clearing his throat nervously. “Rebranding local products under my brand and cultivating a convenient one-stop shop environment.”

“Hm,” Prof. May says, writing down more notes. “And why did you decide to go with a consignment model?”

“Many of my vendors are local and working out of their own homes so they can’t meet the demand of supplying big retail stores, but they can for a small brick and mortar location and be able to obtain the fruits of the labor quicker because it’ll be faster to turn inventory,” he says, his minding working desperately to recall everything he wrote in his paper. “It also gives them the freedom to experiment with seasonal products which is something that’s important to me. These aren’t just products to sell, these people are artists with a passion for what they create,” David says, picking up one of the candles. 

“This woman named Colleen lives here in Elmdale and makes the most amazing wooden wick soy candles and every year she experiments with different notes and scents and always gets it right. But because she doesn’t have the exposure, her batches are small and it’s been difficult for her to get a profit because her margins aren’t big enough. But she could if she had a store like this to partner with.”

Prof. May stops writing her notes and regards David with careful eyes. “This really means something to you.”

David feels his face flushing. “It does,” David replies firmly, even as he feels something inside of him shaking. “I know it’s not as sophisticated as some of the other projects here,” David says, waving his hand around the room. “I mean, that group over there is trying to collect wind energy from walking,” he says, pointing towards the group a few booths down. “My store isn’t like that, it’s simple. But I’m proud of it,” he finishes, clenches his fists tightly.

Prof. May is quiet for a moment before asking, “And what’s wrong with simple?”

“N-nothing,” David stammers out with surprise, worrying the skin between his thumb and forefinger. “I meant that it’s not a high-tech labyrinth that’s meant to change the world.”

“But it will change someone’s world, quite a few people actually,” she counters back. “You’re providing something to these vendors with your store, something they’ve never had before.”

“And what’s that?” David asks wearily. 

“An opportunity,” she says. “An opportunity to explore what they love to do with stability. Not many people can provide that to others, yet you figured out a way to do that,” she says, smiling gently at him. “And not to mention all of the customers you’ll reach who will also gain a lot of joy from the items you’ll sell, if the crowd that was previously here is any indication of that.” 

David clears his throat as he feels a thousand different emotions welling up inside of him.

 “I just want to make something special,” he says softly. “Something beautiful, something that matters.”

“You don’t think this is special?” She asks, sweeping her hand across the table. “Did this not take great care and diligence to achieve?”

David nods stiffly, looking down at his hands, her words knocking down the insecurities that seemed to have fortified around his heart. 

“David, good businesses come in different packages. Not everything is meant to become a multi-million dollar, penurious capitalist venture,” she says and David for a moment wonders if she’s recently spoken to his mother. “Sometimes a store, a good store , that serves a purpose and caters to a community is enough. Of course making a living means making enough of a profit to sustain yourself, but it also means making a life for yourself that fulfills you.”

David lets her words sink in and nods his head, a shy smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. 

“Success isn’t always measured by the bottom line. Sometimes it’s measured by the impact you provide. And David I hope you know the work you’ve done during your time here hasn’t gone unnoticed by your professors,” Prof. May says plainly. “You should be very proud of yourself."

David’s bottom lip absolutely does not start to wobble, his head tipping back with the hope that the tears he feels forming at the corners of his eyes will magically evaporate before he succumbs to the wave of emotions that overwhelm him. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, once he’s able to find his voice. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Seeing a student not only succeed, but prevail is an educator’s greatest thank you,” she says, patting his arm gently. “Now, I have to move onto your other classmates but I do see a few unclaimed samples.”

“Oh, I actually um, have a separate thing for you,” David says, reaching under the table and placing a small gift basket of all the products in front of her. “I thought I should give this to you after my evaluation,” David says sheepishly. 

“Ah, bribery will get you nowhere,” she says with a teasing smile. “Although I do believe a lot of people will do just about anything for more of that cheese,” she says, popping a piece of aged cheddar from the sample tray in her mouth and walking away with her clipboard and her basket.

“Oh my god,” David groans out, slumping down into his chair. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Stevie says as she rushes towards his table. “That final was a fucking beast .”

“Don’t worry about it,” David says, waving his hand. “I just finished my evaluation.”

“Oh shit, how did it go?” Stevie asks, throwing her satchel onto the ground and plopping her butt into the other chair. 

“It went really, really well,” David says with something akin to pride tinging his voice. 

Stevie grins at him and knocks her shoulder against his. “Fuckin’ told you.”

David rolls his eyes and nudges her back, thankful for her. “Okay, there’s about an hour left. I think the big rush is done with, so it shouldn’t be too bad-”

“Oh my god, David! Look at you and your ‘lil store!”

“Day-vid, what an ambrosial vision!”

“Look at you son! You look like a real business owner!”

David whips his head towards the entrance and watches as his family all but storm their way towards them. He feels himself go rigid, his hands starting to sweat a little because his family has never seen him like this, running something on his own and he feels more anxious for their opinion than anyone else’s. 

Every dark thought, every terrible whisper crowds into his head, pushing away Prof. May’s praise because none of that really means anything if his family doesn’t think he’s capable, especially because he has been so adamant about pushing them away from his professional life. The thought of proving their doubts right feels like a lead ball in the pit of his stomach. 

David groans loudly and covers his face with his hands. “Alexis I told you the fair was tomorrow.”

“And I knew you were lying to me obvs,” Alexis says, slapping his arm lightly. “Which like, so rude David! But I’ll forgive you this time because I love a free sample,” she says, plucking severa lip balms with her greedy, raccoon fingers. 

“Those aren’t for you, Alexis,” David says, gritting his teeth. 

“As your brand ambassador and VP of sales I think it’s important for me to be familiar with the merchandise,” Alexis huffs out, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“You are an intern at most,” David grumbles at her. He anxiously turns his gaze towards his parents. “I didn’t think you were going to come today.”

“And miss our only son’s grand accomplishment?” his dad says, smiling softly at him. “Nonsense, we wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

“Yes well,” David says, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “That kind of faith would have been nice back in New York.”

His dad winces. “Yes, you deserved to have had better emotional support from your mother and I rather than financial support. We both see the error of our ways now, which is why we wanted to be here with you.” His dad claps David on his shoulder from across the table. “And we are so proud of you, son.”

And although David has been able to keep his tears at bay up until now, his father’s face and earnest words cause them to slip down his face. 

“Thanks, dad,” David whispers out, hastily wiping his face when he feels his dad give his shoulder one last squeeze. “So um, what do you think?”

His mom is quiet which is never a good sign, her hands brushing lightly over the bottles, her eyes focused and intense. Her opinion holds a lot of weight in his life, his mom never shy with her words. But she looks up at him with the softest smile he’s ever seen on her face and he blinks down at her with surprise when she gently cups his cheek. 

“Oh David, look at what you’ve created,” she says tenderly. “You have managed to create something truly winsome.” She picks up a bottle and shows her husband. “Look John, the Rose name on another plucky young business.”

“It’s a sight to behold, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arm around her. 

David smiles shyly, Alexis beaming at him and tapping the tip of his nose. “Boop.”

David rolls his eyes, but smiles back at her. Stevie reaches out and squeezes his hand briefly and once again he’s overcome with emotions for her. He glances behind him towards Patrick’s booth and finds him watching them, his smile radiant and proud and David nods at him, grateful for him too. 

\\\

Patrick’s leg is shaking because it’s the last day of his advanced entrepreneurship class and David is once again not in attendance. Attending the last class isn’t necessary, just a formality that is scheduled during finals week, but students usually go because they want to know how they scored on their projects rather than waiting for final grades to be submitted. 

Prof. May is finishing up her speech about what she hopes her students move on to do, final words of encouragement for the seniors before their commencement only a week away. But Patrick doesn’t listen to much of what she’s saying because all he can think about is David.

He hasn’t really been able to see him much the last few weeks, the both of them frantically finishing up papers and cramming at the last minute, locked away in their respective rooms. So there’s an ache there because every brief glimpse of David has only been building up the anxious energy inside of him. 

He’s tried hard not to let his mind be consumed by David, small bursts here and there when he allowed his mind to wander beyond his textbooks as he was studying, but he always pulled himself back in because it’s important to pass his classes. It’s important that he graduate, because once he does, he can finally let himself think about dark, almond shaped eyes with long, thick lashes and a shy smirk tucked into his left cheek-

“Time for the grand prize!” Prof. May exclaims, Patrick snapping out of his thoughts abruptly. “I want to make it clear that everyone did an excellent job at the fair, but there was one project that stood out just a little bit more.”

Raviv sits forward in his seat, Sandy giving Patrick an amused smile. 

“And the winner is….Rose Apothecary!”

Everything begins to clap and Patrick sits up in his seat in surprise before pride and delight begin to take over his body. He turns around in his seat towards where David sits but is met with an empty chair, the disappointment of David’s absence taking over once again. 

“Since it looks like David isn’t here to accept his prize, I’ll accept this on his behalf until I see him at commencement,” Prof. May says. “But everyone can now come up by group to accept your final grades.”

“I wanted that giftcard, but I guess David deserves it,” Raviv grumbles, Sandy nudging him with her elbow. 

“Seeing as though you took four of those brie samples, I think you can be a little more graceful about your defeat,” she says teasingly. “I gotta ask him where I can get more of that moisturizer. My skin feels amazing .”

“I wonder why he didn’t come to class,” Raviv wonders as the three of them shuffle in the line formed in front of Prof. May. 

“Busy with finals I guess,” Sandy says with a shrug and Patrick wishes he felt as nonchalant about it like she did. 

“Team E-Quip,” Prof. May says when they’re next in line. “Good work,” she says, handing Sandy their packet. The three of them move to the side to let the other students get back their work.

“What did we get?” Raviv asks anxiously as Sandy flips to the last page. 

“A-,” Sandy says. “Honestly I’m really happy with that, I was expecting worse.”

“Especially after our in-person evaluation,,” Raviv says with a relieved breath. “We may not have gotten the muffin, but at least we know we passed.”

Patrick smiles weakly, his insides still a little twisted up inside about David. 

“Do you guys wanna go celebrate?” Sandy asks. 

Patrick shakes his head. “I have one last paper that I need to edit,” he says regrettably. “Maybe later tonight?”

“Sounds good to me,” Raviv agrees. “Why don’t you and I grab something at Hot Beans in the meantime? I’ve been craving a muffin since the fair,” He suggests to Sandy. 

“I could use a cup of coffee, we’ll see you later Patrick,” Sandy says, waving at Patrick. 

“Patrick?” Prof. May calls out to him. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure, what’s up professor?” Patrick says, walking towards her. 

“Would you mind bringing this to David?” She asks, handing Patrick the gift card and David’s paper. “I know your rooms are right next to each other.”

“Yeah of course,” Patrick says, accepting David’s things with gentle hands. 

Professor May gives him a curious smile. “I noticed you helping David a lot at the fair,”

Patrick tenses up uncomfortably. “Uh, a little, yeah.”

“He also mentioned that you helped him research student grants in his paper,” she says casually. 

“Oh,” Patrick says, surprised. “He did?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding her head. “He said it’s important to share credit when it’s due, that he enjoyed knowing that he had someone he worked well with despite ‘previous unfavorable episodes with group work.’”

Patrick feels his entire body flush with pleasure. “That, um, that’s good,” he says weakly. 

Professor May smiles softly at him. “You know, good business opportunities aren’t easy to come by.” She picks up her bag and starts walking towards the exit. “Best not to let them get away,” she calls over her shoulder, Patrick staring after her in shock. 

The lecture hall door slams after her and Patrick is standing in the lecture hall by himself. He walks to where he was sitting in a daze, picking up his backpack, still carefully holding David’s paper and making his way out of the lecture hall. 

His steps are slow as he finally lets his mind open, his thoughts of David bombarding his senses. 

He likes him, a lot , and what that means for him is something he needs to unpack, but right now nothing seems as important as just seeing him. 

He picks up his pace, moving his feet quicker until he’s just running back to his dorm, dodging between people, jumping over the hedge outside of his building. 

He’s smiling because the thought of seeing David just does that to him now and it’s terrifying but also really exciting and he skids on the floor a little when he reaches David’s door, knocking loudly three times. 

And when David opens the door, Patrick feels himself light up at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” David says surprised. “Why are you breathing so heavy?”

“Huh?” Patrick pants out. “Oh, I just uh, I ran here.”

“You ran here?” David asks, his eyebrows quirking up. 

“I did,” he says with a grin. “Can I come in?”

David hesitates a little before moving to the side. “Uh, sure.”

Patrick steps into David’s room, his grin wide, but everything drops out from under him as he takes in the empty room, David’s leather duffle bag sitting on the bare mattress. 

“You’re moving out,” Patrick says, turning towards him. 

“I’ve been slowly moving things back to my parent’s place the past week,” David says, pulling at his fingers. “And by parent’s place I of course mean the motel Stevie’s family owns that we’re mooching off of. I wanted to avoid the chaos of moving day with everyone else so I took a head start.”

Patrick gives him an uncertain smile. “Wish I’d known, I would have helped you.”

David shakes his head. “You’ve done enough, more than enough for me,” he says, biting his lower lip. “Really Patrick, you did so much for me,” he says softly. 

“I wanted to,” Patrick replies firmly. 

David gives him a pleased smile and his cheeks turn a little red that pleases Patrick. 

“Oh,” he says, nodding at the giftcard in Patrick’s hand. “I see you’ve been awarded the coveted prize of half a drink at Hot Beans,” he says with a teasing smirk. 

Patrick smiles at him and shakes his head. “Actually David, this is yours,” he says, holding it out to him. 

David tenses up. “Huh?”

“Professor May asked me to bring this to you,” Patrick says, handing David the giftcard and his paper. 

David flips to the last page of his paper, a big ‘A+’ marked in red with a note at the bottom. 

David-

Excellent work. You really embodied the entrepreneurial spirit and applied everything we’ve discussed in class this semester into a cohesive and inventive business plan. There were a few wordy embellishments here and there that aren’t necessary, but overall you should be very proud of the work you’ve done. Your booth was also one of the best I’ve seen in recent years and your commitment to your business, even in the hypothetical world, should be commended. I look forward to seeing what you accomplish in your future.

“Oh,” David whispers out. “I won.”

“You did,” Patrick says softly. 

David is quiet, his left hand holding his paper and his right fidgeting with the giftcard. 

“I know this really isn’t a big deal, I mean on the future accomplishments moodboard I made when I was nine had things like secure an invitation by Cartier to the MET Gala and meet Beyonce,” David says, waving his hand. “So winning a $5 giftcard at a collegiate entrepreneurship fair shouldn’t feel like something big, but,” David stops, biting his lower lip. 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Patrick says, shaking his head. “This is a big deal. And you deserve it.”

David looks up at Patrick and when he smiles, it feels like the beginning of something. 

“So,” Patrick starts, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What now?”

“Now,” David says, folding up his paper. “Now I go on a roadtrip with Stevie.”

“Really? A roadtrip?” Patrick asks, surprised. “What about graduation?”

“We decided to skip it,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Stevie wants to visit a bunch of old motels and I want to go to Montreal for a bit, see some art, so we planned a trip. Seems more fun than sitting in the gymnasium wearing a polyester poncho.”

Patrick nods his head and tries to smile, but he knows the disappointment is clear on his face. “Yeah, that sounds more fun. I was hoping to sit next to each other at graduation, you know, share the polyester suffering together.”

David gives him a slightly awed look and Patrick shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “I didn’t, sorry I uh, I-”

“David it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll survive,” Patrick teases. 

David smiles and says, “What if I sent you pictures of all the grotesque motels we visit throughout the trip during graduation?”

Patrick laughs. “I’d appreciate that. Throw in a picture or two of Stevie doing something funny and I’ll be golden.”

“I can do that,” David says with a smirk. 

They smile at each other shyly now, a thousand thoughts rushing through Patrick’s head, the feeling of wanting to say all these things to David but not knowing how to say them. He still has so much he needs to figure out for himself, so much to discover. But with David smiling at him so beautifully, he feels like he’ll get there. 

David’s phone pings and his face scrunches up. “That’s probably Stevie,” he says regrettably. “She’s waiting in her car for me.”

“You should go,” Patrick says. “Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

David opens his mouth to say something, but he closes it and instead steps towards Patrick and hugs him, Patrick melting in his arms, wrapping his around David’s waist and squeezing tight. 

“Thank you,” David says softly, his breath tickling Patrick’s ear. 

Patrick doesn’t say anything, just squeezes him one more time and steps out of David’s arms, his body already missing his warmth. “Have a safe trip David.”

David nods and gives him one more smile, picks his bag up from the bed and walks out the door. 

\\\

“Took you long enough,” Stevie gripes once David is finally in the car. 

“I was gone for ten fucking minutes,” David huffs out. “I was saying goodbye to Patrick.”

“Oh,” Stevie says, perking up. “I thought you weren’t going to have time to do that?”

“I wasn’t, but he uh, he ran from class to find me,” David says, mumbling the last bit under his breath. 

“I’m sorry, Patrick, ran to find you?” Stevie asks gleefully. 

“Okay,” David snaps. “He didn’t run to find me like that . Prof. May asked him to give me my paper back.”

“Sure,” Stevie drawls out and David rolls his eyes at her. “So, what did you get?”

David shuffles in his seat, smoothing out his sweater as he avoids her eyes. “An A+.”

Stevie goes silence before punching him hard in the arm. “OW! What the fuck was that for?!”

“ I told you! ” She shouts at him. 

“That doesn’t excuse you assaulting me you wench!”

“Who won the prize?”

David sighs and holds up the gift card which makes Stevie punch him again. “OKAY I GET IT! Can we just fucking go now?!”

“We’re not done talking about Patrick,” Stevie says, shifting the gear into drive. “And I will be taking this as my payment.” She plucks the giftcard out of his hand. 

“Payment for what?” He asks wildly. 

“For being right about everything and for helping you at the fair.”

“You’re a miscreant.”

“I’m also thirsty, so we’re stopping by Hot Beans so I can get a drink.”

David huffs and crosses his arm, leaning his head against the passenger window. She drives them to Hot Beans which is in downtown Elmdale, only a few stores away from where the Blouse Barn used to be. 

Just as they’re about to walk into the coffee shop, Raviv and Sandy step out, the latter munching happily on a muffin. 

“Stevie! And David!” He says happily around his muffin. “Congrats on winning!”

“Thanks,” David says with an awkward smile. 

“Your booth was the best, hands down. Everyone couldn’t stop talking about it after the fair,” Sandy says kindly and David blushes. 

“Yeah that cheese was awesome,” Raviv says and Sandys knocks him with his elbow. “Your entire business was awesome I mean.”

“I really appreciate it,” David says, feeling overcome with emotions. 

“The products you sourced were amazing, where can I buy more of it?”

“I can send you the vendor’s contact info,” David offers. “She’s not far from here, about 30 minutes away.”

“That’s doable,” Sandy agrees. “But I wish your store was real, would make things more convenient around here.”

Stevie nudges his side with her elbow and he almost turns and bites her. “So,” David says, clapping his hands together. “Congrats to you as well! I thought your booth was very impressive.”

“Thanks, we’re pretty happy with the grade we got which is why we’re here picking up a celebratory muffin, or better yet someone is hogging all of the muffin,” Sandy says, rolling her eyes at Raviv. “We might meet up with Patrick in a bit too.”

“Um then would you mind bringing him a cup of tea for me?” David asks, grabbing the gift card out of Stevie’s hand much to her annoyance. “I kind of owe him.”

“Oh they don’t sell tea here,” Sandy replies. 

David furrows his eyebrows. “But Patrick said he ordered a tea here? Like a few weeks ago?”

“Patrick doesn’t come here because he only drinks tea,” Sandy says. “He prefers picking up a cup at the cafeteria since they have English Breakfast I think?”

“Earl grey,” Raviv corrects. “He likes the earl grey or the peppermint tea.”

“Oh,” David says, looking up at the storefront. 

“We can swing by the cafeteria if you want?” Raviv offers and David shakes his head. 

“No, no, I’ll uh, I’ll get him next time,” David says. “But thank you, for offering.”

“You got it,” Raviv says. “We better head back before Jeremy eats all of my cheese. I saw him eyeing it in our fridge this morning,” he says to Sandy. “It was nice running into you David!”

“Bye David!” Sandy says, waving goodbye at them. 

“Bye,” he says softly, waving back at them. 

“So,” Stevie says casually. “Your face did a thing. What happened?”

David smiles to himself and shakes his head. “Nothing. Come on, let's go, I made a carefully curated playlist for this roadtrip that I refuse to let go to waste.”

“But what about my drink,” Stevie whines, trying to take back the gift card. 

“Nope,” he says, keeping it out of her reach. “I need this, we can get something at Tim Hortons.”

Stevie flicks the bird at him which he lets slide because he’s too happy, too eager to think about what to do next.

\\\

Three Years Later

Patrick collapses onto his couch, loosening his tie and letting out a tired breath. It’s been a long week of endless meetings and his boss bumping up the deadline to their quarterly report by a week and he’s ready to take off his pants and just do nothing . 

He’s thankful for his job, he knows that he was one of the lucky few who was able to secure something with a decent salary only a few months after graduation, but he’s been wondering if he’s letting the comfort of stability stifle his true aspirations. 

Just last week he got an email from Raviv about his newest venture in Silicon Valley with the same people who created Uber. Sandy texted him pictures of her newest creation from her 3D printing business a few days ago. His friends are chasing after their dreams, taking a big chance. And he’s chasing after...he doesn’t know. 

He tips his head back and groans up at the ceiling. He needs food. It’s the weekend, he has no plans, and he needs food. 

Patrick fishes for his phone out of the front pocket of his backpack where it’s been since one in the afternoon because he had three back to back meetings. 

When he finds it, his heart stutters a little at the sight of David’s name several times on his screen. 

David called four times and left four voicemails. Huh. 

David made good on his promise of sending him photos of the motels they’ve stayed as well as a stunning collection of Stevie being caught doing bizarre things, such as piggybacking off of a bouncer’s back at a stripclub outside of Montreal and trying to stuff her face with twenty small pretzel bites at a mall they passed by on route to their fourth motel. 

In retaliation, Stevie also sent him several pictures of David, all mid-action moments caught on camera. His favorite is David angrily wringing out the water of one of his expensive sweatshirts in a dingy motel bathroom after they were caught in the rain on their way back from a drag brunch in Toronto. David’s face was scrunched up with frustration and Patrick felt a fierce wave of longing for him. It also didn’t help seeing the white undershirt he wore underneath the sweatshirt clinging to his body. 

He’s had time to think and the revelations he’s had over the last few years have been enlightening to say the least, and always at the center of those thoughts are David. 

They’ve spoken pretty frequently during the three years since graduating from college, texting and emailing each other small updates about each other's lives. David, who traveled a bit after his initial roadtrip with Stevie, settled back down in Schitt’s Creek where he’s managing an upscale clothing boutique that opened a year after the Blouse Barn shut down. And Patrick who took the first job that was offered to him and moved to Toronto as a financial analyst. 

They wish each other a happy birthday and happy holidays and a hundred more random moments in between. So yeah, they talk, but never on the phone which both piques his interest and stirs his worries. 

But when he presses on the first voicemail, that worry swiftly turns to utter delight as David’s rambling words wash over him. 

“Hi David, it’s Patrick. I, um...was just calling to run a business plan by you. My business plan. I have a business plan. For a business. So. Feel free to give me a call back and I will be happy to walk you through it. Okay, ciao.”

“Hi Patrick ! Yeah, I think I, I think I called you David. Which that’s not, that’s not your name. You can just delete that text, the-the voicemail I left you. Um, just thought it might be a good idea to give you some background information about the, the store. Did I mention it was a store? I said business right? Well the business is a store. More specially it’s a general store that will...you know what, I’ve given you this pitch before so if you can recall to one of our earlier meetings that would be gr-”

“Yeah the text cut us off, so back to my business. I have a business. Or I’m opening a business? Nope, I didn’t mean to present that as a question, I am opening up a store, I have the lease agreement and everything. But I just have a few questions? Or actually more than a few. So, if you could just contact me back via whatever your preferred method of communication is, that would be great. Thanks so much. Ciao.”

“Ignore the ciaos, I don’t know why I keep saying that.”

Patrick knows he’s smiling wildly after the final voicemail. He knows he’s going to contact David immediately. He knows he’s going to walk into work tomorrow and give them his two weeks notice. He knows he’s going to do whatever it takes to convince David to have him as a partner. 

And of course he doesn't know for sure if David's plan will actually pan out, or if David will even want him as a partner. But he knows he wants to try. He knows he wants to take that chance.

To think ten minutes ago he didn’t know what he wanted his life to be. 

And now he knows. 

He calls David before he loses his nerve and when David picks up the phone, he groans out, “Please tell me you deleted all of them.”

“I think you and I both know the answer to that,” Patrick says, his smile widening as Daivd lets out a high pitched whine. 

“I blame Stevie and her stupid motel floor weed,” he grumbles. “Okay look, I know this must be very entertaining to you, but you don’t have to help me. Really I was just saying stuff.”

And Patrick can see David so clearly in his head, his hand waving in the air to belittle his feelings. 

“Actually David, I’m calling because maybe you can help me,” Patrick says, his nerves tightening up his insides. 

David is quiet on the other side, Patrick waiting patiently for him to say that. “I um, help you with what?”

“Well,” Patrick breathes out. “I’m looking for a new business opportunity and you’d be doing me a favor if you considered me to help you with yours.”

“Oh,” David says softly. “So you’re saying that you would like to help me with my business and by doing so I would be helping you?”

“That is correct.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “You don’t even know what my business is.”

“Well David, I have a strong feeling that this new venture involves a general store, but also a very specific store-”

“Okay,” David snaps and Patrick only smiles wider. “Fine, then let me help you by agreeing to a business meeting. When can you fit in a phone call next week?”

“Actually, how about a dinner meeting in two weeks?” Patrick asks, grabbing his laptop to start drafting his two week notice. 

“A dinner meeting? How? Over the phone? Just so you know I’m deeply uncomfortable with the thought of hearing mouth chewing on the phone while talking business. That’s just incorrect.”

“I was thinking more in person,” Patrick says with a laugh. “It just so happens that I’ll be in Schitt’s Creek in two weeks.”

“Wait what?! Really?”

“Yup, so my Tuesday is clear if you’d like to have dinner with me,” Patrick says, his right fist clenching tightly. 

“I, um, I can be agreeable to that,” David says softly. “But um, just to be clear, will this dinner meeting be strictly just business or is there room for it to become...something else?”

And Patrick sees David’s smile in his head, tucked into his cheek, that pleased look making him wish he were there now. 

“I think there’s room for negotiation,” Patrick says and lets himself fall at the sound of David’s breathy chuckle. 

“Well, I think I can agree to these terms with just one exception,” David says. 

“And what would that be?”

“If we could add in an extra meeting at a coffee shop. I just so happen to have this giftcard to a place in Elmdale and I’ve heard they have pretty good muffins.”

Patrick laughs. “David, I’m pretty sure that giftcard for Hot Beans expired.”

“Okay, I’m trying to go with something metaphorical here-”

“David, I would love to share a muffin with you.”

“Well, okay then...Just to be clear we won’t be sharing a muffin, we’ll each have our own.”

And Patrick laughs, so overcome with joy with knowing what will come next. 

\\\

Five Years Later

“And so one of the greatest lessons I learned from opening up a business is the importance of knowing when to let yourself be open to new ideas,” David says, speaking to the students sitting in the very lecture hall he once sat in eight years ago. “Even though the one presenting the new idea is your pushy, self-assured business partner,” David says, knowing Patrick is smirking somewhere in the back. “Also always remember to keep the toilet paper in the customer bathroom stocked. Or else the mayor of your town will somehow conjure up a blow horn to alert the entire town of his current dilemma.”

The class laughs, Professor May shaking her head with amusement. He didn’t think he would be good at this, talking to a class as a guest speaker about business . But both his business partner and former professor had a lot of faith in him and it turns out they were right. 

Again , Patrick’s voice annoyingly echoes in his head. 

“Opening a business, becoming an entrepreneur is all about trust,” David continues on. “Trust in  yourself. You have to want it and to believe that yes, this is a good idea. This is something I can do,” David says, and he looks up at the back row in the seat he used to sit in, his husband smiling back at him, pride so clearly shining in his eyes. “But you don’t always have to be on your own. Sometimes it’s okay to let yourself get a little help, because sometimes they need you too.”

David thinks about his life, his store, his family, his little stone cottage, and his husband. His beautiful, brilliant and loving husband. “And when someone says you can do it, trust them. Because even though every self-preserving instinct inside of you tries to tell you otherwise, when you have someone who believes in you, well, you have no other choice but to believe in yourself too.”