Work Text:
It's a good day.
The weather is nice. The slight rays of sun falling through the curtains of the window, brightening the rather dull room and creating a sense of warmth. The clouds are also there, looming over the sky and creating a shadow over the whole town. The slight blowing of wind rustle the leaves, the friction creating a soft sound. It's the type of weather where you're tempted to work with a good mood, and everything is perfect.
Despite the rather good day, Sigma feels like shit. He always does, nothing new.
He is sprawled out on his bed, his hair tousled and a tangling mess, his simple clothes wrinkled from the slumber he woke up from. It wasn't a good sleep, the action done just for the sake of it, but it's fine. The dread of starting the day looms over him. He has work to do, he can't just laze around. He has to attend his classes, has to complete the pending assignments the teachers just thump on their students, has to brush his teeth, eat, shower, get dressed and so on.
Basically, he has to do the bare minimum to survive, but he is unwilling, tempted to call it quits and sleep more, though that's also not easy these days.
Though, would going to classes or doing assignments be considered the 'bare minimum'? He is sure he'd survive without it. 'Early man' didn't do it. Life before civilization wasn't so complex. They'd wake up, hunt, eat raw meat and vegetables, sleep in the trees and it'd be over. Yeah, they didn't even have to brush their teeth, or use various cosmetics to look good. Life was normal, disgusting if you take the present times into consideration, but it was fin-
God stop it Sigma. Stop. Wandering your thoughts and worrying about useless things won't get you anywhere.
He makes an effort to get out of his comfy bed and move towards the bathroom, his bladder threatening to burst with the amount of pee he has been holding. The journey to the bathroom is not easy as his clumsy ass stumbles on various things, his toes now hurting from all the stubbing and he wonders where his life went wrong.
He flushes his piss down the toilet and comes over to the sink, lanky hands picking up his pink toothbrush and applying his favorite minty toothpaste on it. As he starts brushing his teeth, arms moving the brush in circular motion to clean every spot he can manage, he is met with his appearance in the dirty and stained mirror in front. His reflection looks at him, tired eyes with prominent dark circles gauging at him. His arms halt, now resting at the edge of the sink to hold down his weight as he stares at himself. He looks.....okay, maybe even good. His unruly hair falls over his shoulders, creating visible knots, but it looks pretty. Though tired, his eyes are twinkling slightly, the spit on his lips due to the toothpaste and saliva threatening to spill the longer he holds it in his mouth has also created a layer of shine. Wait...
Why does his nose look like that? Why....are his arms so thin? What- his forehead is covered with pimples. Why? Why, why, why wh-
Sigma quickly spits down the minty taste, his face now looking down at the contents he borderline puked in the sink. He does not want to look at himself in the slightest. He flees from the bathroom after freshening up, in mood for some coffee. The ticking sound of the clock catches his attention as he looks over it for the time. Fortunately, he does have atleast about two hours before his day actually starts. His quick hands fix himself a cup of coffee with a tomato sandwich in plate, as he strides over to the wooden dinner table. He scrolls through his phone, his fingers instantly opening Instagram while sipping his bitter coffee. Did he not add sugar?
Time quickly passes as he gets over with the simplest of chores with difficulty. After finishing his food, he scrolls lazily through his phone and not shower directly (he had read somewhere that it was a damaging habit). He loses track of time as his phone pulls him into its curse, lapping its hands onto him to refrain him from leaving. He hurries his ass to the shower, his soft fingertips massaging his body as he laps himself with a jasmine-flavored soap. He keeps himself busy in there with an imaginary job interview going along his head, as he outwardly talks to the invisible person. The shower atleast helps him soothe his muscles and mind, preparing him for the day further.
The university is just a fifteen minute walk from his house. He strides along the path, observing the little shops and cafes, people making their way among the hustle bustle amongst their busy lifestyles. 'Adulting is hard' was a harsh lesson Sigma was obliged to learn as he gradually grew up. Though his insecurities are still the same like his teenage years, as he walks with earphones plugged, listening to 'Prom Queen' by Beach Bunny.
Sigma has decided to go with his sage green cargo pants and a white baggy top hanging loose with the words 'I rock' written on it in all caps with a peculiar font, the sleeves draping down his shoulders. The slight chilly weather makes him shiver, but he didn't bother covering himself further, God knows why. Two pretty earrings dangling off his ears is just what he needs to feel complete, them moving on their own as he makes his way to the destination.
☆☆☆
Sigma reaches his university and eventually his class, nearly throwing his bag onto the table as he plops himself down the chair. He is greeted by his friends - Dazai and Fyodor who keep him company throughout his classes. The first half of hell takes a long time to get over, his tired and limp body getting dragged outside to get some whiff of fresh air, well if you call the smoke coming from cigarettes fresh air, then yes. He didn't think majoring in Psychology would be this hard, and he doesn't even get half of the stuff.
He is now surrounded by a group of people who have kept themselves busy in talking and laughing, the usual puffs of smoke coming out from some of their moving mouths and polluting the air. This is the advantage (disadvantage) of being freinds with the 'popular' kids (Dazai and Fyodor), they know a whole lot of people. Sigma is a bit out of it to actually take the effort to listen and respond, his mind coming up with fake scenarios and keeping him busy.
"Sigma? Hey, earth to Sigma?"
The sudden nudge at this shoulders breaks him out of his thoughts, looking around to see the attention of the group fully on him. He tries to not squirm.
"Huh?"
"Are you alright? You seem lost." The question is asked by Fyodor, his concern clear in his tone and though the care in it makes Sigma warm, he knows how fake it is.
"Yes, sorry, were you saying something?"
"I was asking whether you wanted to come to the party being held at my house this weekend."
It takes him a while to figure out who's voice this is, the familiar yet unfamiliar gruff making him wonder. His eyes fall over to the redhead, who's looking at him expectantly. Chuuya is one of the few people he actually likes, despite his slightly aggressive attitude, though they have never been quite verbal with each other. He hesitates for a moment before eventually replying -
"Yes I'd love to. Thanks for inviting me."
Chuuya just smirks in response, blue eyes looking at him as if satisfied by the response.
"Aww look at Sigma, thankful for getting invited."
"Sigma, you're going to get used for being such a pushover."
"Adorable like a puppy."
Some strange hands come ruffle his hair, some going over his shoulders and pulling him closer. Some pinch his cheeks, remarks of 'cute' and 'adorable' filling the air. Strange eyes look down at him, some in amusement and some in ways that scare him. Some chuckle, some roll their eyes.
He hates it. Hates it all.
He is tired. He wants to go home. The smoke is only making him nauseating, his stomach filling itself with the feelings of anxiety and nervousness. He wants to leave and he can just say so, but he doesn't. It will be too embarrassing. Just a few more minutes right? Then it will be over. Why trouble people when it's just a few more minutes? Why did he agree to go to that party?
The few minutes eventually pass. Sigma finishes his second half of classes, his mind swirling with 'what ifs' and what not.
Do people actually like me? Am I fiddling? Is my hair proper? Do I stink? That was so embarrassing of me. What if the fan fell down? What if I suddenly puked in front of everybody? What if I get a stroke? What if, what if, what i-
He almost cries at one scenario where he imagines the death of his lover, (he doesn't even have one) and decides to sleep while thinking about it at night.
☆☆☆
His classes end. It's about three in the afternoon when he finally reaches home with his figure drooping tiredly, his eyelids feeling heavy. After washing his face and tying his hair in a messy ponytail, instead of sleeping, he decides to indulge himself in a movie with the excuse of 'not actually having time to do something interesting'. He settles on his bed, pulling out his tablet which was kept carefully under the pillows.
He falls into a deep slumber with the tablet on, playing '10 Things I Hate About You'.
It's hot. It's sweaty. He is parched. Wait, when are his finals? Fuck, what will he write in his exams? His assignments are still pending right? He needs to do it, needs to do it or the guilt will eat him. Dazai told him that he won't be coming tomorrow. Will he be okay alone? Sure, Fyodor is there, but he only hangs out with his other friends. Why-
He gasps awake, panting slightly. The room around him is dim, the dark sky outside tells him it's nighttime. He feels worse, head throbbing and heavy, his throat dry as fuck, his blurry vision trying to make out his surroundings. Strands of his hair are stuck on his forehead with the thin sheet of sweat which has formed over him. He coughs, arms moving to the side where a glass of water lies. He chugs it down in one go, drops of water dripping down his chin and wetting the sheets.
This is exactly why Sigma hates sleeping.
It pulls him in this deep state of relaxation, but waking up from it is literal hell. His stupid brain's first thought is to take stress. Get anxious about things which don't matter, which he will get through. It's okay, his finals aren't even in five months. That is enough time to learn and be confident on what to write in the blank sheet of paper. So what if Dazai doesn't come tomorrow? He is not a baby, he can handle himself. He always does.
His exhaustion has increased. The black screen of the tablet reminding him of his unwatched movie. He opens the screen to check the time, the excessive bright light instantly squinting his eyes before becoming normal.
8:30 pm?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He wants to cry. Everyday passes like this. He doesn't get anything done and at the end of the day, he feels useless. He has already wasted so much time, he needs to gear up. That's what he tells himself but Sigma doesn't make proper use of the rest of the time. The guilt and procrastination mixed up tells him to call it a day, that he will do it tomorrow. Of course, he gives in, he need to listen to his brain right?
Right?
His day ends with him showering again and eating leftover Sushi for dinner while watching his pending movie. It has now become one of his favorites (every movie he watches becomes his favorite. He is indescive and doesn't know how to form opinions).
☆☆☆
The next day is the same, the usual. The absence of one of his better friends making it a bit lonely. He has taken care of his mental health today by deciding not to hang out with Fyodor and his gang, his stupid tactics to make Sigma fall into his traps, the toxicity and the smoke.
Some cream of the pastry he is currently eating, falls onto his loose black jeans which he has decidedly worn with a mauve shirt tucked in, brightening his face and making him look smarter. He has forgone his earrings, the only accessory being the metal rings which cover almost all ten of his fingers. He wipes down the vanilla flavored cream and licks his fingers, relishing in the sweet taste. Nothing more than a good pastry to make your day better.
The amount of classes on Thursdays are slightly less, the relaxing day now pressuring him to do the pending assignments and actually study. He decides to do so at the library, thinking that the peaceful, quiet environment will make it better to focus. Stopping at the cafe built in campus before going seems like a good idea, a much needed change of good coffee from the bitter one he had yesterday.
Sigma enters the small cozy cafe. The theme is 'greenery', potted plants and climbers fixed on places and adding composition to the already pretty decor. The walls are painted a combination of light beige and wooden brown, accentuating the plants. The smell surrounded is so light yet refreshing, quite contradictory to the smoke of cigarettes he surrounds himself with everyday. Bunch of people are scattered around the tables, some talking while some decidedly setting their study session in the place. He strolls over to the counter, one glance at the menu and he is sure of what to order.
After ordering a cafe mocha, he makes his way to the table set in the corner, the view of the outside world(in here, the campus), visible through the large stark clean windows; he suddenly bumps into a person, the other's set of books falling over with a thud and scattering all over the ground. He slaps himself mentally for just creating trouble and embarrassment for both of them.
"I'm so sorry! I was distracted and look what it caused." He says with an hurried attempt to bend down and pick up the books. The task is a bit difficult as his other hand clenches his coffee, making limited movement, he is lucky that the coffee didn't spill to make a more of a mess. Thankfully, God took pity on him and avoided the situation from escalating further into discomfiture.
He hands the short pile of books to the other person, arms feeling heavy with the weight. He relaxes with the other taking the pile and giving him a sweet smile. All Sigma can think when he properly takes in the other's appearance is,
He is really pretty.
A few inches taller with long braided white hair reaching slightly past his hips. His attire is a black and white checkered top with sleeves upto his forearms and black leather pants fitted tight and accentuating his *ahem ahem* thigh muscles. If Sigma doesn't get to know his name by the end of this conversation, he'll surely refer him as the 'guy with piercings'. The various piercings in his ears and lip glint in the morning light shone in the cafe.
He doesn't get to know his name.
Sigma's time in the library after finishing his coffee is spent working on his assignments with bits of the person he met earlier slipping into his mind and making him blush. Still, he refrains from letting his mind wander too much, relaxing in the lazy and quiet surroundings while focusing on things he should prioritize.
☆☆☆
The black leather pants are shining incredibly as they hug his ass and legs, focusing the attention on every right muscle. A black buttoned up shirt with the sleeves rolled upto his elbows is tucked in with the first few buttons loose and leaving the rest to imagination. His lucky boot-designed earrings dangle off his ears and his rings glint under the lighting. He is also wearing a simple necklace to make up for his rather empty neck.
Must be good enough for the party right?
Sigma likes to have time to do things, likes to be prepared without any hurry. That explains the fact that there is still half an hour before he leaves his comfort zone (his home, or rather, his bed). He spends sitting on his bed, his mind dilly-dallying with musings of his own. A tinge of nervousness is present throughout his body in the signs of a rather fast heart beat, an uncomfortably full stomach and a fidgeting body. Social events are never his cup of tea.
He reaches the venue and is greeted with pink and purple lights all over the inside, giving it the accurate vibe.The party is loud with music speakers banging and reverberating throughout the room and people dancing onto the music and going feral. The servers are striding skillfully among the crazy crowd, handing drinks to the guests. Sigma has taken one himself, the red liquid sloshing around as he swirls it and gulps in one go. He made sure that it was alcohol free, the taste sweet yet sour but not something dizzying.
He is surrounded with a few friends, all taking this event as an opportunity to dress up with an attempt to amaze and seduce whoever handsome or worth talking. Dazai has dressed up pretty normally whilst making sure that all girls and guys swoon over him. He looks like the typical asshole guy whose job is to do nothing but swing from one person to another like a damn monkey, which is unfortunately true. He would never miss the chance to fuck or get fucked. Fyodor has made an actual effort to dress up, clothes making his muscles prominent with whatever little movement he does.
The main character of this party, Chuuya looks sensually pleasing, red-hair glowing with strike contrast to his pale, freckled skin. He has done slight makeup, evident in the way his eyelashes flutter and tinge of highlights which accentuate his skin. He is wearing a black crop top with a red and black checkered flannel shirt which covers his arms. A baggy fitted black jeans is secured with a belt over his waist, the choker on his neck bobbing with every gulp of drink. His non hesitant strides scream confidence and honestly, that's what makes people admire him.
Sigma wants to be him.
The nervousness mixed with excitement is finally starting to hit him, the vibe of loud music making him hyperaware of his surroundings. He wants to have fun, wants to dance and get drunk, wants to go wild. But, he really doesn't know how to. He can't just go to a random person and be like, 'Hey I know I'm such a humdrum, but can you entertain my monotonous ass for tonight? I know you'll view me as a nuisance but please cooperate.' Heck, he can't even talk freely with his friends, let alone a stranger. He wants to have fun and he tries, but he never actually gets there. He is stuck in a loop, and now, the desire to be in his bed and rot, the only thing he is good at, is starting to increase.
That is, until he sees a flash of long braided white hair and his feet just move automatically towards the source of 'beauty', leaving his friends all alone. Not that they care.
Sigma situates himself in one of the stools far away from his original position while his eyes wander through the figure of the 'guy with piercings'. He is farther away at front, talking with someone, his smile bright yet somehow hot and his lip piercing being all the more visible. The attire is really casual, quite contrasting the one in the cafe, with a magenta colored oversized t-shirt and black skinny ripped jeans. Although Sigma doesn't want to judge, he really looks like he came with whatever outfit he blindly picked.
He still looks good though.
Parties are boring and downright unpleasant. It's exciting but the thought that he isn't going to follow his desires is what makes it disappointing. He likes parties, but he hates his insecurities screaming at him and pleading to just shut up, even though he doesn't even talk. But that's is what makes it more fun. The back and forth between the two sides of his brain. It's also like winning a challenge when he lets the bolder side take control.
And today, he will win. He is here to have fun and damn, that's what he will do.
☆☆☆
Nikolai was set on not going to this 'party'. But the begs and pleads from his friends made him cave in. And he would have come without reluctance if the party was actually fun. If the party had been filled with clowns and psychos, with dark themed cakes and decor. If it contained games which asked quizzes and whoever was not able to answer would be kille-
The party is still filled with 'clowns and psychos', but all pretending to be 'normal with a functioning brain'.
Well, atleast he knows how to make himself jolly as he engages in a conversation with a random stranger, asking them his 'quiz' questions plus making them uncomfortable. Killing two birds with one stone.
But does he really need to when he sees some person with half-mauve-half-white colored hair bouncing his way towards him? Well yes, if he turns out to be boring but that's for later to find out. The other is a bit shorter, but insanely familiar and also..... charming perhaps. Grey eyes look at him, and he is the one getting uncomfortable under the scrutinity.
"Uhh, hey."
Unsurprisingly, the other's voice is soft as he speaks, his nervousness clearly visible through certain cracks in his mask of confidence. It just makes him want to tease him more.
"How may I help you?"
☆☆☆
Sigma wants to scream. Why did he even agree to do this? Why did he let his bolder side win? He wants to curl up in the corner and die than have this conversation. The other's gaze on him is peculiarly normal, bored even, like he doesn't really care about his clumsy existence. And he shouldn't, why would he? He barely knows him. But does it hurt to show a bit interest?
Is he not in a good mood? In the cafe he seemed actually nice, but now? Now, Sigma's confidence has fled from his whole body as he stays limp, figuring out how to continue this chat.
"Um hey! W-we met at a cafe a few days back, do you remember?" He says while wishing the other does, or else he swears he is going to jump off a brid-
"No. I don't."
Oh great.
How do you even recover from shit like this? He's going to remember this conversation and it's going to haunt him forever now.
"Well, that's fine. What is your name?" He is trying so hard, please just cooperate.
"Nikolai."
Now was that so hard? Atleast they're getting somewhere, he hopes. Though, this Nikolai guy doesn't even bother asking his name and he's questioning his life choices.
"I'm Sig-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence, getting interrupted by some friend of the taller one's.
"Oh Sigma? You were here?"
Oh.
OH.
It's Fyodor.
Sigma believes trusting in someone or even liking someone based on the people they surround themselves with. That's why, he's quick to assess the behavior of Nikolai considering he's friends with Fyodor. Damn it all, he actually curses his shitty luck. And the thing he handles the worst?
It's people. Especially assholes like this.
The thing with assholes like Fyodor are, they know they are one, and they use it to their advantage. They manipulate others, know their weaknesses and use it against them. And, despite the victims being aware of this, they aren't able to rid themselves off their tactics. There is a reason Sigma is envious of Dazai. He is an asshole himself, not to everyone but to those who deserve it. He knows how to shut them up. There is always a tension and slip of taunts here and there between him and Fyodor, but Sigma can't do that. He sits and listens to whatever shit 'assholes' say, and then beat himself over it.
"You know Nikolai?"
Or you can listen to them, but make their words not matter to you. He can't do that either.
"Well technically, no, but we have met."
"No we haven't." Nikolai answers before Fyodor can even open his mouth.
The audaci-
"Well it's because you don't remember. I bumped into you accidentally on our campus cafe."
"Oh, so it was a shitty incident?"
That really shuts him up. He opens his mouth just to close it again.
"Were you the clumsy ass person who scattered all my books?"
He wants to scoff at that. So he does remember. Of course he does. Looking at the two bastards in front of him now, there's one difference he can infer. Though Fyodor is a manipulative son of a bitch, Nikolai is way worse. Fyodor atleast has the decency to be civil about his behavior, but Nikolai? He's too straightforward with it.
Actually, he isn't sure which one is worse. People would tend to be wary of Nikolai because they will be intolerant towards the shit he pulls, while Fyodor can easily trap them into his cage by his sweet tone and smile.
They're a dangerous duo, that's what they are.
He fucked up. God, he fucked up so bad. When he actually tried to act like a normal fun human being, when he finally tried living his life, this is what he gets? Two mentally flawed creatures? Did he sin in his past life?
"Again, I apologize, I was distracted." He says, thinking of ways to escape this nonsense.
"Apology won't do. You're going to have to make up for it."
Make up for such a silly and small incident? Of course. Ten Ayesha Erotica songs are also less to boost up his confidence after this.
"Nikolai, be nice. He isn't up for your shitty games." Fyodor says with a snort, as if mocking Sigma for being uncomfortable by their shitty attitude.
Like a thousand times before, the question again arises in his mind.
Why did I agree to come to this party?