Chapter Text
Autumn. A time of year when the days get shorter and the nights get longer. The time when it's still warm outside, but you can already feel the first cold weather approaching. The time when the trees, just yesterday full of green leaves, change their outfit for a golden robe for a while, and then stand undressed. People have their own opinions about this time of year. Someone likes autumn for its picturesque appearance and a certain sense of nostalgia, someone on the contrary, doesn't like it for the day-to-day rains and dampness, and someone is waiting for it with impatience and consider autumn a mystical time of year. And there is a special part of people who would give anything in the world if only autumn came as late as possible. And these people are students of various educational institutions.
And one of those people is me - Charles Leclerc, a second-year philology student. I spent a year studying in my native country, but my mother insisted that I go on an exchange somewhere else, "for general development," so to speak. My candidacy as an exchange student was approved very quickly because I don't have any academic debts, and I was one of the best students in my faculty. As is usually the case, I was given a choice of several countries and universities, and I chose the one whose program I found most attractive. And, to be honest, I've always wanted to visit the Netherlands, and I don't even know why. It wasn't for any other reason than my friends' enthusiastic accounts of their travels there had ignited my curiosity.
The school year has kicked off, and here I am at the entrance of my chosen university. It's morning, and a stream of students is heading to their classes, while the well-kept lawns are filled with those who will begin their lectures a bit later. I approached the main entrance with confidence and was a bit taken aback to discover that the grand facade concealed a corridor reminiscent of those found in American high school films. The walls and ceiling were painted in light colors, and on either side of the hallway, there were long rows of lockers for students' belongings—some were plain, while others were personalized or decorated by the students themselves. Everyone has their own style, so to speak. I have a locker too, but I'm not sure where it is, so I'll need to hunt for it later.
The walls are plastered with posters advertising a wide range of student activities – concerts, meetings, clubs, and more. I'm tempted to join the music club, but since I'm only here for a semester, it probably wouldn't be worthwhile. The same goes for sports. While I'm interested, committing to something for such a short time seems pointless. Luckily, staying in shape won't be an issue; there are gyms both on campus and in town.
Right when you walk into the building, they've got all the faculty schedules posted – super convenient, by the way. I took a look, found my department, and then saw which room I had to go to. It was a bit confusing getting around at first, so I asked a student for help. Funny thing is, he was French, which actually made it easier to tell him exactly what I was looking for. He was happy to point me in the right direction, and we chatted a bit as we walked to the classroom.
Turns out, he was an exchange student at first too. But after just one semester here, he decided to just transfer for good – he really loved being independent from his parents. His name was Pierre, and we hit it off right away. And I don't just mean because we both speak French, but in terms of friendship too. We swapped numbers so we could hang out outside of school, because, as my new buddy says, "French people gotta stick together!" I guess when I mentioned I was Monegasque, he decided to just roll with it.
He bid me good luck for my first day as we arrived at my classroom, then went down the hall to his classmates. Of course, classes were about to start. I'm not one for the spotlight, but I understood that in smaller universities, new students are typically introduced to the class on their first day, similar to school. The professor would introduce me, ask me to share a few things about myself and then tell me to sit in an empty seat. I never know what to say about myself, so I just hope I don't embarrass myself by stuttering or freezing up.
The bell hadn't rung yet, so I calmly entered the classroom, where most of the students were already gathered. The professor, also known as Miss Driesen, greeted me and asked me to come to her. After a brief, typical chat, she introduced me to my new classmates, just as I'd figured she would.
"Okay class, let's give a warm welcome to Charles Leclerc, our new exchange student. Charles, where are you visiting us from?"
"Monaco."
A voice, followed by some giggling, broke the silence: "Monaco, huh? Living the high life!"
I just rolled my eyes. Predictable.
"Lando, that's enough," the professor said firmly. "Charles, tell us a little about yourself."
"My name is Charles, I'm from Monaco, and I'm here for one semester as an exchange student. I don't think there's much to say beyond that, given that I'll only be here for a short time."
"Nonsense! You never know, Charles. Many students come here thinking they'll leave, and then they end up staying. You might be one of them."
"I doubt that very much."
My answer clearly didn't sit well with Miss Driesen, but I chose to ignore her disapproval. She pointed me towards an unoccupied seat, and to my surprise, there were two vacant spots at a table designed for three. I walked over to the individual seated behind one of them and asked if I could take a seat. He gave a nod, so I calmly sat down on the edge, pulling my notebook and textbook from my backpack. As I unpacked, he turned slightly towards me, observing me with curiosity. First time seeing a new face?
"I'm Max, by the way," he introduced himself.
"Charles," I replied.
"I already know," he stated.
I returned his friendly smile, a gesture of politeness. Since the proffesor didn't start her lecture yet, I settled into my seat and we began a short exchange with my new acquaintance. Though he appeared somewhat reserved, as if lost in his own thoughts, I found myself connecting with him almost instantly, and the conversation took on a life of its own. During our chat, I noticed a distinctive mole above his lip, a feature I found quite unique. I also caught sight of his pale blue eyes, which his glasses made even more captivating. I felt a slight flush of embarrassment, realizing I was practically scrutinizing my classmate. He might not be conventionally handsome, but there was something about his presence that compelled me to look.
While we were talking, I realized he was checking me out too, especially my face. Did he really find me that interesting? I grinned at the idea, and right then, the bell went off. Max got back into his usual position, propping his head on his hand and grabbing a pen, ready to jot down his first notes of the semester. The rest of the students trickled in, and as someone came up to our table, I felt a little shove in my side.
"Move it, this is my spot."
"I was told it was free."
"Free in the middle, not here."
"Fine, fine, don't get your panties in a twist."
I shifted my things to the center of the table, closer to Max, and moved my bag from the back of one chair to the other. It wasn't until my second roommate sat down that I actually looked at him and saw he looked exactly like Max – same blonde hair, same blue eyes, just no mole on his lip. He must have noticed me staring, because both he and Max let out a little laugh.
"Yep, that's my older brother, Emilian."
"Right, the one destined for the crown."
"More like the first attempt that didn't quite work out."
"Asshole."
"And he's already figured that out."
"Okay, Verstappens, the bell's rung, so zip it and listen to me."
I let out a quiet laugh, watching them get told off like kids. So Max has a twin brother? That's unexpected. Even though I've only been here a day, I'm sure there are plenty more interesting things to discover. And I bet they won't all be about school.
During the lecture, while the professor spoke, and the usual split was evident: some students were taking notes, others were distracted by their phones, destined to struggle with exams later. My own approach was to meticulously record key information, a strategy I've found essential for exam success. Even though this semester is my only one here, the academic credit carries weight back at my home university, so I can't afford to slack off. To my surprise, both brothers were also taking notes. I'd assumed Max was the diligent one and Emilian seemed more like a rebellious character from a teen film. But it seems they both take their studies seriously. I find myself curious about their lives beyond the classroom. Perhaps this fascination stems from the novelty of interacting with twins, a unique...new experience for me.
Throughout the lecture, seated between them, I found myself watching them and their notes, hoping to learn something about them. Emilian noticed, writing on his paper, "What, like what you see?". I mumbled "You wish" and rolled my eyes, earning a subtle smile from the elder twin. Max, meanwhile, continued his note-taking, incorporating his own cryptic abbreviations. I pondered whether I'd ever be able to decipher his notes if I asked for a summary, or if I'd need to inquire about each abbreviation individually. Or perhaps it would be wiser to seek a summary from someone who writes everything out plainly. In essence, attending lectures and doing the work myself is the most straightforward path.
The lecture ended, and both brothers offered to walk me to the next room, saying it was "for company" so I wouldn't get lost. I agreed, as I'm completely clueless about this place and still can't figure out these endless corridors, especially when they're swarming with students from all over the place, all in a rush. Honestly, I'd be an idiot to turn down help from these two personal "Google navigators."
We packed up and left the classroom. We had to go pretty much to the other side of the building, so the twins had time to grill me a bit. Emilian asked me where I was from, he was absent during my introduction, how long I'd be around, and all those typical "getting to know you" questions. Max walked beside me, listening and chiming in with his own questions now and then. It wasn't hard to answer; it's just natural to be interested in someone new.
As we were strolling down the corridor, I spotted Pierre way down at the other end. We waved at each other, and both twins looked at me with surprise.
"Met anyone yet?"
"Yeah, but what's the big deal?"
"You just seem so low-key, and you're already making friends."
"That's the trick, I only seem low-key."
"That sounds interesting."
I gave a shrug. Max eyed me with some curiosity, but Emilian shot me a knowing look, and I suddenly felt awkward. Did I say something wrong? The twins looked at each other and grinned almost at the same time. I'd heard somewhere that twins have this special bond, but I'd never seen it in action. What's the big deal? It was the first time I'd ever met twins, especially since they were so identical that if it weren't for the mole, I'd definitely think I had double vision. And anyway, I need to find some other way to tell them apart, because if I keep staring at one or the other's lips, trying to see the distinctive mole, they'll probably think something's wrong or that I'm a creep.
Upon reaching the next classroom, the twins promptly took their seats, while I proceeded to introduce myself to the professor. It's not my preferred method of introduction, but as the newcomer, I have to present myself to each professor individualy.
So, cheer up, Leclerc, it's just a few days until you've checked in with everyone.
Mr. Vasseur, our history professor, turned out to be a really decent chap. He gave me a warm welcome and wished me all the best with my classes. He pointed me to a vacant seat, so I returned to the classroom, finding a place just in time.
The twins waved me over to sit with them, and Mr. Vasseur gave me a friendly smirk.
"Watch out for these two," he warned, "they're massive chatterboxes and tell crazier stories than I do, and I teach history!"
"I'm more into my studies than just yapping, so I doubt your lessons will go unnoticed" I shot back.
He gave a little laugh, "Good attitude, I like it." I gave him a polite smile and headed for the table where the twins were. They looked like they'd deliberately left the middle spot vacant for me, like they were trying to box me in their "twin-sandwich". It was a bit strange, but also kind of funny.
As soon as I was seated and had my notebook out, a young woman approached and deliberately placed her thick notebook on the table in front of me. I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. First encounter with a course diva?
"This is actually my spot."
"Wll, it's not anymore."
Emilian answered before I could. The girl started to complain, but the older twin quickly calmed her and told her to find another seat, and then returning her notebook. Max, his head supported by his hand, was laughing softly. I leaned over and asked quietly, "Who's that?"
"That's Sabrina. She's been stalking Emilian for a long time and talking about her unconditional feelings for him. She used to sit here and try to get close to him, but it never worked."
"Ah, right"
"Yeah, that can be really fun to watch."
"Maybe I should change seats."
"You don't like our company?"
Emilian's gaze met Max's and mine, a questioning arch of his brow. I responded with a shake of my head, and the twins let out soft laughs. A smile played on my lips as I opened my notebook, the bell's ring and the lecture started.
The lecture proved to be quite interesting; history was a subject I always enjoyed and I was always keen to discover something new. Mr. Vasseur's storytelling was frequently enlivened by his own jokes, a technique that kept the students thoroughly engaged and free from boredom. He answered student questions with a noticable passion, a quality I admire in a professors. I appreciate it when a teacher approaches their subject with genuine soul, rather than a dull "I show up, I read a lecture, I leave" approach.
Whenever Mr. Vasseur faced the board to write a date, the twins seized the opportunity to bombard me with notes. The low hum of classroom conversation usually masked their paper-passing antics, though I suspect Mr. Vasseur simply chose to ignore it. I answered Max and Emilian, trying to keep up with Mr. Vasseur's Tudor history lesson. Usually, I'd be annoyed, but today it felt like a challenge – could I multitask like Caesar?
I think I may have mixed up their notes once, because the older twin read the inscription on the paper I gave him, and when the teacher turned away, he leaned too close to me and passed it to Max. The younger one took it and waved at the older one, as one usually waves away an annoying insect. I smiled at the comparison, but didn't risk voicing it. Watching their interaction was surprisingly entertaining. Despite the common perception of one twin being angelic and the other rebellious, I didn't see any animosity between them. At least, not yet.
As the lecture was coming to an end, we were assigned some homework. When the bell rang, we started gathering our belongings, knowing there was just one lecture remaining before we could finally head home. I'm wondering what lecture does my new friend Pierre had. I'll have to find out about his schedule when we meet, maybe we can meet more often, because he said that "French people gotta stick together!". However, I need to point out that I'm not French; I'm just French-speaking. Still, I don't think it's going to be a problem if we become friends.
There's a lengthy gap between classes now, clearly for everyone to grab a bite. A "lunch break," essentially. As we were in the hallway, and one of the twins was about to say something, a Frenchman I knew came up and practically pulled me by the hand towards the cafeteria.
"Gasly, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Kiss my French ass, Max. Or Emilian. Whatever."
He waved his hand, and we were gone around the corner. I laughed, and Pierre, smiling, finally let go of my hand. I adjusted my hoodie and bracelets as my friend walked ahead confidently. Nothing else to do, so I followed him to what he called the uni's "hell's kitchen."
"Seriously, with those Verstappens, you're pretty much screwed either way. Be nice to them, and they'll won't let you live your quiet life. Be a bit of a cheeky, and they'll still get on your nerves, just maybe not as much. It's about choosing the slightly less awful option."
He said it like it was some kind of gospel truth that everyone at this place just knew. I guess I'll listen to his advice. Or maybe I won't. What if the twins aren't as terrifying as Pierre's making them out to be?
We headed into the dining room, which was already buzzing with a decent crowd. We grabbed trays and got in line. The queue had everyone from the senior students and "fresh meat" as they call new students, and, of course, the professors. Everyone was chatting and grabbing their lunch, trying to be quick about it so they wouldn't end up stuck at a "bad company table", which nobody really wants. Pierre was rambling on about something, and while we were talking, I totally zoomed and didn't realize it was our turn to get food. I piled some stuff onto my tray and looked around for a seat, but Pierre had already sorted it. He was heading for a small table where two guys were already sitting.
We headed over, and Pierre made the introductions. There was Esteban Ocon, a tall guy with dark hair and this smile that was a bit like a rabbit's because of his teeth, but honestly, it was a cute smile. Then there was the other one, a bit shorter, with blond hair and blue eyes – Mick Schumacher. So, we had a pretty interesting crew forming: two French guys, a German, and a Monegasque.
As we started eating, Pierre and I got talking, and before we knew it, the four of us were just chatting away like we'd known each other forever, not just for ten minutes at most. They were super easy to talk to, and nobody was being a jerk or anything, so the conversation just flowed, which was a relief.
"So, why is Verstappen staring at you?"
"Which one?"
"I wish I knew."
"Well... one of them has..."
"Never mind the details. Are they bothering you?"
"I've only known them for a couple of hours."
"Then be careful. And maybe grab some calming tea, because they really know how to get under your skin."
We laughed, and I glanced over to see which twin was staring. Spotting Max at a table with a small group of other guys, so I waved and nodded, then turned back to my friends. It was easy to tell them apart today; they wore different clothes, and I'd already seen and remembered them. I was sure that it was Max. Back in my seat, Pierre's made some snide comments and Mick made some playful jabs, so I just rolled my eyes and kept eating.
We swapped numbers to stay in touch, and they added me to a group chat. When it was time for class, everyone left, and I was a bit lost, not knowing where to go. As I tried to figure things out in the hall, someone whispered in my ear, "Lost?". I jumped, but upon turning, I recognized Max. A wave of relief washed over me. I admitted that I didn't know where to go, so he just told me to follow him, and I did.
As we made our way to the class, Max apologized for his behavior in cafeteria. This was unexpected, as I didn't think anything odd or concerning about it, and I told him this. He seemed to relax and his expression eased a bit after I spoke. My impression of Max so far is that he's a calm, thoughtful, and generally introverted person, which creates a pleasant atmosphere around him. I enjoy his company, and he's not as inquisitive as his brother. I'm wondering what else he enjoys besides being busy with studying. I can't imagine he spends all his time in his room with books or a computer. I'd like to get to know him better, given we're classmates now. We might have more in common than I thought.
Max entered the classroom, tapped my shoulder, and proceeded to his seat. I, as usual, went to speak with another professor - Madame Bakker. After another introduction, she told me to find an empty seat. I was even a little pleased to see that all the tables here were strictly for two. Perhaps I could finally study a subject without interruption. Max was seated with a curly-haired fellow, a Lando, if Miss Bakker's address was accurate. Emilian, on the other hand, was in the back row with a tall, blond student whose name I didn't know. I saw a vacant spot next to a dark-haired guy and immediately went to ask if I can take it.
"Sure. I'm Carlos, by the way."
"Charles."
"You're the one from Monaco, aren't you? The one who's living the high life as Lando said?"
"Yeap, that's me."
I rolled my eyes, then took a seat and retrieved items from my backpack. Carlos, initially reserved, eventually warmed up to the idea of me being his partner for the semester and started talking. He gave me a brief overview of the students – the athletes, the social groups, who was a good source for notes and who wasn't. When I asked about the professors, he shrugged, declared them "all boring," and immediately launched into campus gossip.
My first impression of Carlos as distant and arrogant was clearly wrong. We ended up sitting close, like two gossip girls, whispering about the rumors. He shared what he'd heard around campus, and I asked for clarification on teachers or more details about specific stories. Gossip can be quite engaging, especially when you haven't met the people involved. I also sought more information about the students, as his initial descriptions were insufficient.
Carlos filled me in on Lando, the fellow who shares a desk with Max. Apparently, Lando's been pals with both twins for ages, but Max is definitely his closest buddy. The guy sitting with Emilian is named George. He's from Britain, but he's here on an exchange, which is pretty much the story for most of us in this course. Carlos let slip that both George and Emilian were on the varsity basketball team. "Of course, where else would you find guys like that?" my seatmate joked directing at their height, and we both had a quiet laugh. He also mentioned another basketball player in our course, Alex, but he's not around today because he's still back home. I couldn't help but think, "Summer vacation must be dragging on for some."
Then, Carlos started dishing about the girls in the course. He brought up Sabrina, who I already knew, and her endless attempts to get Emilian interested, which he almost always shoots down.
"Seriously, she even joined the cheerleading squad just to be closer to him, and he still rejects her," Carlos said with a bit of a dramatic sigh. It struck me as something out of a teen movie, this whole one-sided drama between a cheerleader and a basketball player. I'm genuinely curious why Emilian keeps turning her away. She's pretty cute, and she's got a decent figure, you know?
"Quick question, are either of the twins seeing someone?"
"What kind of 'seeing someone' are we talking about? Like, in a relationship?"
I gave a nod, and Carlos mulled it over before shrugging. He recalled Max having dated an older student in the past, but they hadn't been together for a while, so he figured they'd probably broken up. Emilian, though, never really settled down. He'd be with one girl for a bit, then another, and sometimes he was even spotted with guys. So, the older twin is into trying different things? That's a curious detail, though I wouldn't have guessed it. I never would've imagined him being involved with men, except as friends, of course.
The sound of the bell announced the beginning of our rhetoric class. Madame Bakker began her introductory talk, explaining what rhetoric is and why it matters, not just for our future professions but for everyone. She was incredibly enthusiastic about her subject, using examples from old and new movies shown on the interactive board. She was a fantastic teacher, really; everything she said was so clear, and the vivid examples made it all sink in effortlessly. Even the course outline, which is usually a few pages long, only took me about two pages to jot down. Carlos seemed to have the same experience, as I noticed he wasn't writing much in his notebook.
A couple of times during the lecture, I caught the eye of one of the twins. Max would quickly look away, but Emilian seemed to be staring at me on purpose. It made me feel a little uncomfortable at one point, so I decided to just pretend I didn't notice it for the rest of the class.
The film segment and the teacher's analysis of the protagonists' strategies captivated me so completely that I was unaware of the lecture's swift passage until the bell signaled its end. Madame Bakker assigned a brief task, after which we gathered our belongings and the room slowly cleared.
Carlos, while collecting his items, met my gaze and smiled.
"Who are your dorm mates? I didn't spot you on the list."
"I'm not in the dorms. I have a place just around the corner."
"Ah, you're really living the high life."
Carlos gave a kind laugh and a pat on my shoulder before we left the class. The corridor was crowded with students, some leaving, others facing more lectures. I noticed the twins and most of my classmates were missing. Taking advantage of the situation, I asked Carlos to show me where my locker is, as I expected to spend ages looking for it. I gave him my numbered key. He paused, then smiled and gestured for me to follow. We walked down the hall, and he turned a corner, pointing out my locker. As I was about to thank him, he reached into the next locker.
"You're not just my classmate, you're my locker-neighbor too"
Carlos chuckled and pointed out the amusing coincidence that our lockers were right beside each other. "Fantastic," I thought, "so if I ever need to find my locker in a sea of people, I just need to find Carlos." We spent a bit of time unpacking our bags, then made our way out of the university together.
I asked Carlos about the university's sports offerings. He listed football, basketball, tennis, and one other, but only basketball caught my attention. While I'm not particularly tall and certainly no match for George, I do enjoy shooting hoops. He also assured me the city had ample evening entertainment options. He also mentioned that the city offered plenty of activities, so I wouldn't be short of ways to fill my evenings.
We exchanged a few more words with before going our separate ways. He was off to his golf lessons at a local club, and I was heading home. The first day in a new environment, filled with fresh experiences and new connections, required some processing. It was a lot to take in all at once.
My rented apartment was conveniently located about a ten-minute walk from the university, a pleasant stroll that helped me clear my head after lectures. Upon entering my apartment, I tossed my backpack aside and headed for the kitchen to grab something to eat. My usual dinner was already on its way for delivery, so I had plenty of time to change and relax.
As I ate, I mulled over the day, the new people I'd met, and the overall experience. So far, I was quite pleased. My classmates appeared friendly, the professors seemed perfectly fine, and I'd found it surprisingly easy to make friends. The future remained to be seen, but for now, things were looking good.