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At around three in the morning, the Monday night (Tuesday morning?) before finals, someone on the lower floor of the library lets out a frustrated groan so loud Eret can hear it from the circulation desk. She jumps, no longer falling asleep, and slowly, slowly closes her laptop.
She didn’t even know anyone else was here.
For a moment, they listen. It doesn’t… sound like the unholy screams of the damned or someone getting axe-murdered. That’s… good? Means it’s probably safe to investigate. They take their overlarge metal water bottle, currently halfway filled with iced coffee, as a weapon, anyway.
As she creeps down the stairs, it becomes obvious that there is, in fact, someone down there. For a moment, it almost sounds like they’re sobbing. Poor soul, finals week really getting to them. Sucks. However, as Eret gets closer to the door, it becomes clear that whoever is down there definitely isn’t crying, but is laughing, in that way that suggests they’re two seconds from completely going mad.
Hoo boy. He just hopes the damage isn’t too bad, whatever said damage may be.
Slowly, he opens the door, looking for the source of the sound. It seems to be coming from the couches. He creeps over, the somewhat desperate laughing getting louder. Ah. There.
Head in hands, laptop plugged in, half a dozen Red Bull cans scattered on the floor around him, sits that one freshman with the split-dyed hair. Eret’s never spoken to him personally, but they’ve seen him – the kid who sits on top of the boulder in the center of campus with a podcasting mic and livestreams to several different platforms until security makes him get down. The desk in front of him is covered in books and papers, some with more coherent notes than others, and the only thing they can currently see on the laptop is the image search results for emperor penguins.
“...Are you alright?”
The kid startles, whipping around to look at Eret. He looks from her to the laptop to the empty cans and back to her.
“I didn’t spill any on the books,” he says, mortified.
“I… didn’t think you did,” Eret replies, rubbing their eyes a few times, “Just didn’t think anyone was still here. Is everything alright?”
“Well!” The kid – she thinks his name might be, like, Ranboo or something? – clasps his hands together, slightly hysterical. “There is! And things are going very normally, too.” She raises an eyebrow.
“...Sure.” They cross to the couch opposite his, perching on the arm. “What are you working on?”
“What am I not working on.” Ranboo gestures grandly to the papers, books, and laptop. Glancing over, Eret can see at least four different subjects present. “Economics, forensics, animal behavioral psychology, writing for screen, God, I don’t want to do that one–
“...What’s your major?” Eret says slowly. He’s starting to grow concerned.
“Undeclared! But– I mean.” Ranboo glances at the papers in front of him. “I’ve got options? Like, with twenty-one credits this term I’ve got a lot of options, but–”
“I’m sorry, hang on, hang on,” Eret interrupts, staring at him, “Twenty-one credits?” Last he’d heard, the maximum was eighteen, and you had to be a special kind of crazy and a sophomore for that.
“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “I know it’s, like, out of the ordinary, but it’s not that bad, just– y’know.” He laughs, strained and a little desperate. “Lot of finals!”
“Okay, yeah, you need a break, because it’s–” Eret checks their phone. “–3:17 in the morning, you’ve had–” A quick count of the scattered cans. “–four Red Bulls, and you’re clearly taking way too many classes.” Ranboo deflates a little. “Have you done anything to just, you know, relax?”
“...No.” He slumps back against the couch, rubbing his face with both hands. “Lot of studying. No time for fun. Haven’t even had time to rec–” He suddenly sits up, meeting Eret’s eye. “Hey. Have you ever wanted to be on a podcast.”
Which is how, at 3:20 in the morning, Eret winds up sitting on the floor in the library basement, a podcast microphone between her and her impromptu interviewer, as he fires up a livestream broadcast from his phone.
“Alright!” Ranboo says, “Hey, everybody! It is currently 3:21 AM and I am in the library basement with–” He turns to them expectantly.
“Um, Eret.”
“With Eret! Eret, why are you in the library at 3:21 AM?”
“I work the circulation desk? And the night shift during finals pays well?”
“Awesome, awesome…”
He goes on to ask a series of increasingly ridiculous interview questions: what was her major? Ancient Greek art history. Why was she studying that? Love of the culture and mythology became a real interest. What year is she? First semester senior. Who was her favorite professor? Her advisor. Would she kiss the school mascot if given the chance? Absolutely not. Has she ever gotten food poisoning from the dining hall? Only once. If she could choose between having unlimited bacon or unlimited games and none of the other thing, which would she rather have? This one she doesn’t actually answer, because Ranboo fumbles the capital B Bit too hard and can barely ask the question.
It’s half an hour of back and forth until Ranboo starts to get tired – Eret can see the caffeine crash from a mile away.
“Okay,” Ranboo says, “I think that’s enough for tonight. Everybody go to bed. Bye.” He ends the stream and slumps against the cushions again, yawning widely.
“You going to head out as well?” Eret asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Dorm’s not too far. Just gotta–” He yawns again. “–pack up my stuff.”
Eret helps him get his things together and follows him back up the stairs to the main level. Just a couple more hours on their shift. Not a problem. They don’t have any classes on Tuesday, anyway.
Before he leaves, however, Ranboo snatches a sticky note from the desk and scrawls down a couple different forms of contact and a URL. When he leaves, shuffling out the library doors into the warm spring night, Eret makes sure to put his number into her phone. God knows the next time he’s going to need advice such as take breaks or calm down. He’s a good kid. They’d be alright with getting to know him better.
They settle back at their spot behind the desk, open their laptop back up, and take a deep swig of their iced coffee.
Okay. Back to it.