Chapter Text
Saturday, November 10th, 1990
1:36 pm
Will
Will had finally arrived at the apartment building he was moving into. The dorm he lived in for a month and a half was nice, however once he had discovered his roommate (now previous roommate) was a homophobic prick (and his roommate had discovered Will was a “Fag”, as he so kindly put it) he suddenly didn’t have the desire to live in a college dorm.
As he rode the elevator up to the third floor, he thought of how he would decorate his room, what his roommate might be like- would he be artsy like Will? Would he be nice? He hoped so.
He had few friends back home; he was a shy kid and that seemed to piss off quite a few people, including his own father, along with... other things about him, those things really pissed off a lot of people in his hometown. Including his old roommate. Anyhow, his friend Dustin was practically the only friend he really had, not to forget his sister Jane and brother Jonathan; they were all outcasts in one way or another.
He was a long way from his little hometown and hopefully, things were supposed to be different here, better. Though he couldn’t help the anxiety manifesting in the form of a pit sinking in his stomach as his internal monologue shifted topics from hopeful ideas about his new roommate to rattling off a list of things that could go wrong.
His brain quieted once he read the sign on a door a little further down the hall, apt. 305. His new home. He didn't have all of his things with him just yet; he didn’t want to bring too much with him from home when he left for college, his few boxes of his most beloved items like his D&D books, posters, blankets, books, art supplies, more art supplies, were still in the car. He was told there would already be a bed waiting for him.
All Will had on him right now was his backpack resting on his right shoulder, consisting of mostly just clothes, and his tote bag on his left, which held just some of his many art supplies. Just the essentials- like his sketchbook, graphite pencils, and colored pencils.
He approached the door, sliding his key into the lock. That's when he saw him. After turning the key and opening the door he stopped in his tracks right there in the doorway. There was a boy standing there, his back to the door over by a desk that sat under one of the windows. He seemed to be searching through a pile of papers sprawled out over the desk. As Will stared, the door behind him slipped out of his grip. With the click of the door shutting behind him, the boy turned around, almost in slow motion. His messy, shoulder length, wavy black hair seemingly whooshed with a gust of wind as he turned. Where did that wind come from? Will silently wondered, Neither of the windows seemed to be open.
The boy wore a dark gray, tattered New Order band shirt. It had a few holes in it, one of which was just beneath the collar of the shirt exposing a sliver of his collarbone. He was wearing dark brown corduroy pants and Doc Martens.
As he stared at the boy his eyes trailed from the rings delicately decorating his slim fingers, to the silver chains hanging around his neck, to the metal bar poking out from his right eyebrow. He had a large reddish almost heart shaped birthmark on the left side of his face.
That birthmark looks oddly familiar…
Finally, his eyes drifted to lock eyes with the chocolate brown ones gazing back at him.
oh shit, how long have I been staring?
It seemed as though the other boy had already finished his survey of Will, staring at him with an almost blank stare, but if you really looked, he looked as though he had already made an impression on the boy before him. The way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his eyes were giving a look of slight confusion told him as such.
If he was correct in his assumption, this was Mike. His new roommate, which he absolutely did not expect to already be here.
Will suddenly found himself to be very flustered at the sight of Mike staring back at him and lost all control of his body. Suddenly very insecure of his own outfit choice in comparison to Mike (a dirty grandpa sweater with a The Cure band T-shirt hidden underneath and blue jeans with yellow chucks; truly bland in the presence of his roommate’s long shaggy hair and grunge getup, fit with accessories and everything.)
Will’s backpack slipped off his shoulder as he stood there gaping at the awkward tension in the room and spilled all over the floor.
Shit.
His whole body stuttered as he rushed to pick up his things. He shoved everything back into his bag without care and stood back up to watch as the boy in front of him had turned back to shuffling through the papers before finding what he was looking for and shoving it in his pocket, then turning back around to face him.
“H-hi… uh.. sorry, I’m uh- Will…” His hand shot right up to his mouth to bite away at his stubby nails, Will wanted nothing more than to shoot himself in the face the second those awkward syllables tumbled out of his mouth. He felt heat creeping up his neck and face as his roommate just gave him a little stare before giving a stifled laugh, turning to pick up a Walkman from the desk and putting the headphones around his neck.
What was he laughing about? God, he probably thinks I’m so weird-
“That reminds me of a song I was just listening to…” the boy finally spoke, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. As Will stood there, puzzled by what that could’ve meant, Mike grabbed a jean jacket off the back of his chair, shrugged it on, and turned around to grab a guitar case that was propped up against the desk, slinging it across his back. Will, still considering either leaving the apartment and running for his life or just putting himself out of the misery induced by this awkward moment, looked down to the Walkman in Mike’s hand and saw the cassette inside. Hatful of Hollow - The Smiths.
Before Will could say another word Mike pushed past him and left, leaving Will standing there like a bumbling idiot. Once he had finally recuperated himself, Will walked down the hallway and passed the second mostly empty room, Mike’s room. He peered in for a moment and saw a bed with a lone pillow and a couple blankets thrown over it. No comforter. His window led to the fire escape, there were a few articles of clothing scattered about the floor.
Not wanting to intrude any further, Will made his way to his room to put his stuff down. Walking over to the bare mattress of the twin bed in his new room to set down his bags, he thought over the interaction he just had.
What was that look about? Why did he seem so smug when I dropped all my stuff on the floor? Now that I think about it, he didn’t even help me pick anything up… Why did he look so familiar? Why did he look so pretty…
The thoughts rolled around in his head until they turned to pearls. His brain couldn’t seem to quiet the thoughts of Mike’s judgement and seeming arrogance without the help of music, so he pulled his Walkman from the depths of his backpack and pressed play on his mixtape. The opening notes of The Boy with the Thorn in His Side by The Smiths rang out in his ears as he made his way down the hallway back out to the living room.
“Behind the hatred, there lies”
“A murderous desire for love”
Will, finally calmed down from the spectacle he made just a few minutes ago, took in his surroundings.
Oh my god please tell me I’m not living with a slob…
Will thought to himself as he surveyed the area. A few unpacked boxes were scattered around the room, whatever was unpacked was just thrown everywhere willy-nilly. Amongst the boxes Will spotted lots of rolled up posters and other band paraphernalia. Though the mess was not one of belongings but of random trash and dishes.
There was a dark brown couch up against the left wall of the living room, riddled with a few blankets, to the left of the hallway. The coffee table in front of the couch had a little ash tray with a few cigarette butts resting inside and a few coffee cups and takeout containers scattered about. The kitchen was on the right side of the hallway from the front entrance; it had some dirty dishes along the counter and in the sink.
He seems to make quite a mess for someone who doesn’t have a lot of belongings…
Will thought to himself as he realized there were probably only 3 or 4 boxes around the room. The thought cut off as his attention turned to a bookshelf against the back wall to the right side of the windows. Will was immediately struck with curiosity as he approached the bookcase. He simply must know what his roommate likes if he’s going to be living with him.
On one of the lower shelves there were some records and CDs consisting of Nirvana’s “Bleach”, Pink Floyd’s “The Wall”, and The Cure’s “Disintegration” among many, many, others. Will had no complaints about his taste in music. If he was honest, he wasn’t into Nirvana or Pink Floyd so much, but Mike had redeemed himself with The Cure, Will’s Favorite.
He smiled to himself and backed away from the bookshelf, Morrisey’s voice still ringing out in his ears as he took one more look around the room and decided. He needed to get to work.