Chapter Text
Good grades were never something that felt like a difficult achievement in Zandik’s life. School was easy, labs were a walk in the park, and the pressure of doing well on a test was more pleasant than any sort of buzz other young people of his age were getting into upon entering university. Weed over cortisol? Try hards.
Then actually beginning university was an entirely new thrill on its own. Well, aside from the judgemental snickers that followed when he entered the class alone or stayed behind for extra credit— everything was perfect. The weasels among him weren’t used to his behaviour yet. They thought it odd and “loserish” to show any interest in academics, as if that wasn’t the whole point of study? He didn’t miss the discreet pointings when he spoke to every professor, signed himself up for every research opportunity or found his way through the confusing, identical hallways of the buildings within which the professor’s offices were located. Whatever, it didn’t bother him. If the other shitheads at this school wanted to think they were better just because they had each other they were awfully incorrect and had a very twisted sense of success. The purpose of this school was to study, that was the only reason to be here. Get good grades, get a job, and support yourself for the rest of your life. Yourself not somebody else. All friendships did was hold people back, and give them an easy distraction from the work university required. Especially romance, relationships of the non-platonic sort were just the same if not a few million times worse.
Luckily for him, despite the fact he’d never shown any sign of the age-typical interest in romance his peers did his parents hadn’t harassed him about it, until the time it came to leave him at his dorm, for some reason they thought now was the right chance to corner him about the lack of any date or partner, or well, his mother did anyway.
“Zandik, dear, you’re going to university now. There’s going to be a lot of new people, especially those with the same interests as you! You should give another person a chance, dear,” is what his mom had cooed at him that day, straightening out his collar as they prepared to leave him at his dorm. One person, it was a shared space with one other person, surely that would be tolerable?
In the moment he’d waved her off with a half-hearted attempt to give romance a shot and something a bit more believable over the subject of making friends. Did he truly plan to see either of these things through? Not at all, but he supposed his mother did have a point in the whole “people here are more like you” sort of thing. Maybe when he could finally get his hands on some summer research opportunity he might find somebody with a brilliant mind like his own. Or maybe he might be even luckier? Perhaps his roommate would be the scholarly type like himself and he could finally interact with somebody that had the right sort of outlook on life.
Any sort of hope for that as a possibility had quickly died out.
Because as he’d spent the rest of that day in the small space, trying to set things up just as he liked it nothing had ever happened. There were sounds outside in the hall, loud boisterous laughter, nervous giggling, and what could only be described as “dude-bro” shouting, but nobody ever opened the door to the room he was sulking. Well, that was technically a lie. The Residence Advisor had come in during the evening with a clipboard, surely for some kind of attendance just to plaster an overly cheerful smile on her face when she realized the room was completely barren on the opposite side of Zandik’s.
“Oh I’m sure he’ll come tomorrow! It is called moving week for a reason after all!” She announced, as if it was something the young man was worried about.
𓏵𓏵𓏵
It didn’t happen.
It was two months into the school year and nothing had changed. He’d just gotten off the phone from a particularly more unpleasant phone call than usual. By now his parents were starting to get on his ass more and more frequently. They couldn’t exactly be called complaints nor demands. At least, not outright demands. But when phone calls home shifted from genuine curiosity about school, classes, and subject matter (which Zandik spoke about with passion) to social life he began calling less and less frequently. They pressed him about friends, clubs, extracurricular activities, and worst of all, romantic relationships. It seemed that his mother thought he’d somehow change completely in such fundamental ways when left on his own and her disappointment only seemed amplified over the fact there wasn’t even a roommate in the picture.
Whatever. Her feelings over his interpersonal relationships (or lack thereof) never bothered him before, he wouldn’t let it now. The slim window to the dorm room did its job of informing him of just how late it was. He didn’t realize the call had taken him till sundown, tch, what a waste of time. He had a lab tomorrow and hadn’t yet read over the instructions for the third time yet. Overpreparedness only ensured success.
Without haste he got up from his desk where he’d taken the phone call and went to the foot of the unclaimed bed, sporting pristine, untouched white sheets. It didn’t hurt to utilize the space around it and he hadn’t yet gotten to a level of disorganization in which he was going to need to toss the occasional papers onto it just yet.
He settled back into the pathetic, barren wooden chair at the desk, putting the lab notebook before him with a relaxed sigh. This was going to make for a nice, relaxing evening, just as he liked it.
A few minutes later, just as he was truly getting into it, the door —which should’ve been locked— was suddenly thrown open with a protesting screech of old hinges, causing Zandik's heart to jump out of his chest. He whipped around in his seat to see a tall, off-puttingly built young man in his age range standing there with a mop of orange hair that competed with his muscular frame for the onlooker’s attention.
“Hey!” Said the other cheerfully, a blindingly white bleached smile cracking across his face the moment Zandik’s red eyes cautiously shifted up to his deep blue ones.
“Hi…?” Zandik replied in a tone that offered nothing but confusion and perhaps a sense of defence, chemistry work completely out of mind in presence of this…. situation.
The other student continued forward through the doorframe and shut the door, making Zandik feel a bit uncomfortably trapped in the small space with him.
“Are you… er- lost? Or something? Because as you can probably see this is my dorm and I—”
“Oh no! I’m not lost! This is my dorm too!” The intruder announced with somehow an even larger smile.
The answer rendered Zandik momentarily speechless, prompted only for any kind of movement when the stranger approached the practically bare mattress and he had to scurry from his desk to move the likely offending schoolbag of his that was more or less in the way. Perhaps the guy was drunk? Why else would he think that this random room was his dorm when it was this far into the school year? But then how would he have gotten in? Unless Zandik hadn’t actually locked the door and just trusted the memory of routine a bit too much.
“It’s nearly midterms,” he said as he took his bag to its proper place by his desk, trying to broach the topic in a direct, yet still non-confrontational way. “Isn’t it sort of late for a dorm change?”
“Nah,” came the chill reply above the sound of multiple packed duffle bags landing on the other mattress.
“Or… I guess maybe it is but, well, circumstances called for it,” he explained as he unzipped the bags, Zandik’s head turning out of curiosity to watch. He decided he certainly did not care for whatever circumstances had called for the switch.. Unless there was a problem with this guy that surely time would reveal for him.
“I see,” Zandik replied dryly, growing quickly bored of the seemingly endless stream of athletic wear and sweatpants being unpacked on the other side of the room in an unbroken stream of grey, black, and navy. Yes, the chemistry work on his desk was without a doubt much more worth his attention than this.
So he turned his attention back to it, deeming the other guy to be the partygoing, unserious type that would likely only spend his time in their shared space if it was for sleeping. Fine by him if he was unserious, so long as he wasn’t bothersome.
“What’s your name?” The ginger asked as he shook some shoes out of the bottom of his bag, causing Zandik’s eyes to narrow as he picked up on the trail of dirt that fell out of the bag onto the otherwise clean floor.
“Zandik,” he replied once he could keep the annoyance of the dirt and the disruption from his work out of his voice.
“Cool. I’m Ajax!”
With the addition of his name Zandik gave him another once over, trying to look a bit more carefully this time. He had an air to him that certainly matched the cheerful tone of his voice. His eyes were sparkly and the way he began decorating the shelves on his side with numerous medals, trophies, and banners certainly carried the excitement similar to that of a child. He caught the text on the next one pulled out from a side pocket of the large duffel “ASCSS Football Champion 2021.” So his assumption was correct, he was the sporty, non-academic sort likely here on some scholarship that had nothing to do with academics. Why did Zandik have to get stuck with somebody like this?
The observation of his quickly proved to be a mistake when on the next round back to his bags caused Ajax to notice Zandik’s attention on him.
With a big smile the other youth took a few of his prized possessions off the shelf he had just set them on, approaching Zandik’s seated form to show them off like a beaming six year old. He set them down on Zandik’s desk as if they belonged there, either not caring for or not noticing the irritated brow furrow that followed the action.
“They’re for football, well, mostly, but I also have a few for soccer and one or two from lacrosse but I didn’t bring those because lacrosse isn’t really my thing and I only played it a few times in elementary school because my mom thought it would be good for me to try something outside the range of what I’m normally good at,” he rambled, despite Zandik’s subtle attempt to indicate disinterest by flipping a page in his lab notebook and scribbling something down as if he’d suddenly remembered something quite important.
Ajax then went on to produce a fairly large gold metal, a smile somehow even more joyful looking as he once again approached Zandik’s desk. The medal was held open at the smooth, black neckpiece as if to slip it over Zandik’s head while Ajax seemed unaware of the pressed look he was being given to not put it on. Gods why was this guy so oblivious?
The weight of the thing completely took Zandik off guard and he was glad he didn’t immediately droop against his desk the moment it was slipped onto him. Was real gold being used for this nonsense?
“And this one I got from my last football match in highschool!” The bright voice immediately piped up. “It was the one where the scouts came to make their final decision about who the few getting the scholarship would be! Of course they had their eye on me the whole season because, let’s just say my friend, I am the absolute best!” He exclaimed, punching the air, taking a moment to notice Zandik had already removed the medal from around his neck and was holding it out expectantly so it could be taken back. He reached for it without comment over how Zandik had taken it off at practically the soonest possible moment, too busy looking at the thing with all the adoration one would have for a newborn. On the way back he stepped on the dirt pile with an irritating crunch as he returned Zandik’s personal space in order to put it away.
Assuming that was the end of the conversation for that’s where it seemed to naturally have led, Zandik returned his attention for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon to his lab work. They were introduced, had a short little chat, created an outlet for which Ajax was able to get out his excited yap about his achievements, surely there was nothing else left to be said?
Writing out chemical equations came back to him quickly, acting to be his perfect, soothing distractant as Ajax muttered to himself about gods knew what unimportant thing. Whatever it wasn’t his business. The scratch of his pen on the pristine white pages brought a small smile to his face as he continued on, feeling the familiar satisfaction as everything lined up just right and confirmed his intelligence as it always did. And what a particularly interesting reaction this had been too. Zandik had been under the assumption that the chosen substance was too volatile to not interfere in the main reaction the experiment was observing. Perhaps there was something to it he hadn’t understood properly or this was an altered form of it. Either way, he knew his questions would be answered with delight and this was yet another opportunity to expand his knowledge on the fascinating subject so many of his peers had lacked the understanding for. What fools they were to think they’d ever get anywhere in the sciences without speaking the language of chemistry, viewing her as more of a close business partner than an adversary.
“So… I guess you’re the humble type?”
The suddenly more direct tone and slightly louder volume made Zandik realize this particular sound coming from Ajax’s mouth was directed at him. He sighed and forced the pleasant whispers of his pen against the pages before him to stop for the time being.
“I’m sorry?” He responded, frankly without a clue as to what his…. roommate was referencing and wishing he didn’t have to ask.
“Where are your trophies and medals and stuff?” Ajax answered, clearly unbothered by having to explain himself. He threw himself onto his bed with far more force than Zandik could ever see the point in.
“What trophies and metals?” Zandik asked with a tilt of his head. Could this boy be talking about the numerous academic achievements Zandik acquired during highschool? With a cursory glance at the gold and silver possessions on Ajax’s side of the room, alongside the rapidly forming polarity between their sides of the room he doubted the question was about materialistic proof of his excellence. The academic’s room was all well organized, neat, his clothes crisp and clean, and everything emanated a certain degree of sterility and propriety while Ajax’s presence thus far introduced the intensity of an uncontrolled, disruptive whirlwind. He knew it hadn’t been long but there was no doubt their energies clashed.
“You know, from tournaments and stuff?” Ajax prompted, which didn’t change the blank look Zandik was giving him. The uninterested expression seemed to be enough of an answer and Ajax shook his head with a sigh that didn’t seem all that genuine.
“Yeah… I guess considering the way you have your head buried in that book you don’t seem like an outstanding athlete at all. Probably never made it to something that far, huh?”
Perhaps to Ajax that would be taken as an insult if directed at him but to Zandik it was just an obvious statement that brought relief that his roommate could recognize early on he’d have no interest in whatever mindnumbing activities he found fun.
“Er, no, I haven’t,” Zandik replied awkwardly as Ajax sprawled across the bed which now became evidently too small for him, though it didn’t seem like a bother as he grabbed a useless spare pillow —which would likely need to be discarded— and hugged it to his chest. Weird.
“Do you even play sports?” Ajax asked quite sensibly.
“No,” Zandik replied with what should be an obvious answer.
“.... then why were you placed here? Like, in this area of the building?”
Zandik furrowed his brows at that. As far as he’d been aware this sort of thing had just been randomly selected. Was he wrong? For once? Did that mean there had been some determining factor that could’ve put him with somebody… well.. not like this guy. Was that why the halls always seemed loud? Why there was always shouting and party music and crashes in one room next to his while the other announced a whole… other sort of unpleasant activity. He’d assumed it was bad luck that placed him in what must’ve been the centre of the worst student demographic because he knew the school was known for prestige.
For once the oblivious Ajax seemed to actually deduce something of value from Zandik’s confused expression.
“What? Didn’t you fill out the “roommate compatibility form” thing? I highly doubt they would’ve put somebody studious with an athlete by accident.” This was all said with a slight crinkle to his already cheery eyes. As if this was funny in any way!
“What form? I never saw any form!?” Zandik asked angrily, as if it was this guy’s fault in any way.
“I dunno man. There was a form somewhere online that you just fill out and yeah I don’t know, they match you with somebody you’re likely to get along with… Oh! Yeah. Did I even tell you about how I got into sports? Basically when I was little…”
And that’s where Zandik actively started tuning him out with unfortunately less accuracy than when doing his chemistry work. He reached for his neglected phone that sat beneath the only company of his desk lamp, unlocking it angrily to shoot his mother an unhappy text over this whole situation. Since he’d never had any interest in going into a dorm in the first place she was the one that had handled all that stuff on his behalf. He’d never once looked at the nonsense “student living” section of the school’s website. If there was some roommate compatibility form he would’ve never known about it and his mother would’ve been free to fill it out as she saw most beneficial for him. Despite having the money to give him a private room his parents figured it would be good for him to socialize a bit and have the “standard experience” the other students had. It was stupid, any reason for being here besides academics was stupid and now he was here stuck with it. No wonder his mother had sounded suspiciously expectant during their last call. Whatever, with time Ajax would surely come to realize that Zandik wanted nothing to do with him and his mother at the very least would be getting a call to complain about this.
𓏵𓏵𓏵
“Oh finally something came of it! I’m so glad!” Came the irritating excitement of his mother’s voice through his cell phone, sounding so screeching to his ears that he almost thought it would be heard from the top of the staircase despite the obvious fact that he didn’t have her on speakerphone..
Zandik had forced his way through his lab prep under the assumption that Ajax would find a reason to leave the dorm, or at the very least have an activity that would shut him up. It’s not like he was mean or being intentionally annoying, in fact, Zandik was almost certain this was the sort of outgoing behaviour that could be ranked above average and surely where his parents wished he landed on the scale of social behaviour.
“So you did this with full intent?” He asked her, irritation slipping without restraint into his tone and seeping into his eyes to glare at the nearest jock that walked by, who of course didn’t even look down at him.
“Now, son, don’t completely freak out on your mother, I second this,” his father’s voice followed after an intermission of the amplified sound of the cell phone switching hands. Tch. His father. The one person who didn’t find his academic achievements as enough to make up for everything else he wasn’t so superior in. Like a social life.
“But you haven’t met the guy!” Zandik exclaimed, having to stamp down the urge to angrily pace given how small the space was. Perhaps the front lobby to dormitory building wasn’t the most optimal location but he didn’t plan on wasting time migrating across campus just to make a phone call. “All he does is talk about his stupid little trophies and what he did twelve years ago as a child and that abhorrent sport’s scholarship. The audacity to even—”
“You’re the same,” his father cut in before the complaint could be finished.
Did his father seriously not see the difference in value between his accomplishments and Ajax’s?
“You cannot compare my academic successes to the play of a child!” Zandik quipped, eyes wide and expression angering as he stared hatefully at the wall opposite him. As if the old, peeling thing had anything to do with his father’s severely misguided opinion on the topic.
Perhaps his mother saw that this wasn’t ending exactly where they wanted it to as Zandik heard her demand repossession of the phone and succeeded in getting it.
“He’s not trying to insult your accomplishments, honey,” she said placating him, surely wishing she could give him one of those childish headpats he always hated. “It’s just that your fa— that we think it might be good for you to gain a new sort of knowledge from somebody that’s completely different from you.”
Zandik hated how she did that. How she tried to reword things in a language she thought he’d understand or agree with more. He let out a sigh, already recognizing this as a dispute that wouldn’t end in his favour, especially considering they were both against him. He allowed himself to slouch slightly against the wall behind him before thinking better of it. Who knew how dirty that thing was considering it was located in a place like this.
“Yeah! Maybe he can teach you to pick up some girls! You’ve never been particularly normal in that sense have you? Or in fact, an—” His father cut back in with an annoyed hiss of his name from his mother.
“Once again, Zandik, deary,” her voice returned to the forefront. Gods he was getting a headache at this rate. “He just means that we both think it would be very nice if you maybe brought a girl home for the holidays! You will be coming back won’t you?”
“Kicking and screaming, maybe,” he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear and pry about. Why did he think calling them would get anywhere? It wasn’t the first time they expressed the sentiment of wanting him to get a girlfriend, it was just the first time they said it so directly. As if neglecting to do so was a failure on his part. Quite the opposite really, avoiding such a burden was exactly what he wanted.
“We’ll be very happy to see you either way!” His mother then rushed in to say, such a clear last minute add on that he wasn’t convinced of its sincerity. Before the call could somehow get any worse or land him with any more insults Zandik quickly hastily made his way off of it, giving some bullshit excuse of having a test tomorrow he needed to study for (as if he was ever the last minute study type). But they let him go without questioning or concern, just a cheerful encouragement from his mother and an assured claim that he’d do well from his father.
When the phone was returned to his pocket, now thankfully silent, Zandik sighed and wasted no time in going back up the nearby stairs so he could return to his dorm… even with the new reality of it being shared.
So his mother had intentionally set this up and now she — or rather, both of his parents were trying to push him to get a girlfriend. Tch. Like he was going to allow them to meddle in another area of his life. This whole roommate mess had already been enough and he had no plans on going through a bigger change he also didn’t want just because of them. It was insulting of them to even insinuate it and Zandik wished he could find something to spite them over even the mention.
“You’re back!” Ajax chirped cheerfully at what was practically the exact moment Zandik walked through the door. Why was he acting like a dog with separation anxiety towards a person he met less than two hours ago?
“Yeah…” Zandik mumbled dryly, unable to resist the little voice in the back of his head tempting him to lay down for a moment. Though surprising, Ajax seemed to get the gist that he wasn’t up for talking, or he’d found something else to do because he wasn’t bothering the sulking Zandik for the moment. But even the sounds of the other just existing in what the scholar considered his space was ticking him off. He knew he liked the silence but he’d never realized just how much he missed it now that it was something he’d likely never have returned to him. It was stolen, and he had his mother to blame for that.
He didn’t know if it was something that could be fixed, if it was worth putting in the effort to get Ajax removed. But this far into the school year? Without a proper justification he could bring up? Inwardly he seethed with that familiar, unraveling anger that always seemed so eager to show itself, kept beneath the surface of his exterior in what was likely just a small frown. Zandik’s eyes moved from the ceiling to his roommate, figuring it was safe to do so now that the rustling noises had quieted to indicate he was probably busy. That assumption was correct, well, if mindless social media scrolling counted as busy.
Zandik sighed inwardly. At least there was… slightly less clutter than there had been earlier when Ajax had first arrived. Small wins he supposed.
But small wins and tolerances didn’t mean he was going to go along with any more of his parents' whims. No matter how “good” they were for him.
He rolled over to face the wall with a huff, pulling the blanket over himself with a half assed effort and shifting cautiously to clutch the little fox plushie he’d brought to the school with him, cautious so as to not draw attention to it or himself. It was a little odd thing with black and blue fur, a little odd thing that made it different even among toy foxes. It was a small comfort from his childhood, something he felt necessary to include in his dorm room… and secretly, to himself, the closest friend he’d ever had. Zandik allowed his gaze to unfocus and his eyes to drift shut as he looked at its friendly face, surrendering himself to the chance of a short nap even with Ajax in the room. The guy seemed decent enough not to bother him if he were to be asleep and Zandik wasn’t interested in changing his schedule just because of another body in the room with him. He did not plan on changing the colour of his fur to make himself more palatable to the other foxes.