Chapter Text
Florian didn’t think much when he was offered the chance to stay in a dim, hidden apartment room. The pay was cheap and word on the street told him that the landlord was lax on almost everything, so what was there not to love. Besides, as an outcast in an entirely new town, Florian was grateful for any garbage house placed in his lap.
The stairs creaked as he went up them, hauling behind him only a small suitcase and a few bags bound on his back. The walls of the apartment building were thin, and the wind bristling through his small shabby jacket made him shiver violently.
“I probably deserve this, after what I did,” Florian muttered to himself. His mind trailed off, wandering back to the memories he had been so careful to preserve.
“No, I mustn’t think of this now.”
There was nothing much in his suitcase, but it felt heavy in his numb hands. As he reached the third floor, a throbbing headache overcame him, blurring his vision. He lost his balance, his foot catching on the stair above. He cursed to himself, half out of fear and half out of frustration, as he snatched onto a rusty handrail and clawed his way back up. If he had fallen, he would’ve ended up like a turtle, his limbs splaying wildly in the air.
Clutching onto the railing with his entire body weight, he managed to drag himself slowly, one careful step at a time. He was not taking any more risks.
“Gosh, if somebody saw me like this, I’d end myself,” he thought to himself bitterly as he swung his suitcase over the final steps.
“…Are you okay?”
Florian jerked his head up, his face flushing red. A young man, around his age, with disheveled brown hair and dark eyes was looking toward him warily, his hands busy jamming a key into the door in front of him. His back was hunched over, though his face revealed no other emotions.
Florian got up immediately. Then, he almost toppled backward again. Managing to catch himself a second time, he straightened himself up, fixing the hair in his eyes and gathering his bags closer to him.
“Yes—yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” he smiled. Then, on another beat, he added, “you will be sharing a room with me temporarily, correct?”
The man turned his eyes toward the key, furrowing his brows. “Right. It sure is… a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Yes, quiet the same here,” Florian replied enthusiastically, clasping his hands together. “Say, why don’t I help you out here with the key?”
The man laughed bitterly to himself. “That would be useful, thank you.”
--
If the door that Florian had to almost kick down was not an indicator for the quality of living he was about to experience, the instantaneous smell of dust was. Hauling his luggage inside, Florian quickly turned on the lights, his eye scanning the entirely of the small space. One kitchen, one living room, and two rooms he could only assume led to the bedroom and bathroom. Laying haphazardly around was a single mattress, a beaten up couch, and a old, faded, orange rug.
Without hesitation, Florian flicked on the stove, smiling slightly when he saw a flicker of heat turn into a flame. He switched the rusty knob, watching as the flame grew bigger, then shrunk into a small, weak rim. He shut it off quickly, before he could get too caught up. As he did, he noticed his roommate watching him warily, though his eyes quickly flitted away. Next, he turned on and off the water. After that, he fiddled with the AC. He ensured with certainty that no outlet, sink, or shower was left unchecked. He opened every window, estimating his escape route in case any burglar came in, concluding that the safest place was the living room. For good measure, Florian cranked open the rusty fire escape and gave the dark metal staircase downward a good shake.
Coming back to the living room after his thorough inspection, Florian found his roommate sitting silently on the couch, his small suitcase laying untouched by his feet. Somehow, all the lights that Florian had turned on where now off again. Despite this effort, he had not even bothered taking his coat off—instead, his eyes looked blankly at him picking idly at his nails.
“You okay there?” Florian asked, forcing himself out a little chuckle.
“Yes,” came the reply, although no other part of his roommate's body moved. Florian could not help but feel a little uneasy, as the air around them felt stiffer than usual.
“There’s only one bedroom here, were you aware?” Florian started again. “If you prefer, I can sleep on the couch-”
The man’s head suddenly snapped toward him, although there was yet to be more emotion displayed on his face.
“Okay,” he said curtly. He got up, although his eyes remained unfocused and his limbs moved almost mechanically. Towing his suitcase behind him, he left Florian alone in the empty, unfamiliar room.
--
It was three in the morning when Florian finally decided to go to sleep. Slumped awkwardly over the small, faded couch, his legs curled into his body so he could barely fit, and his body pressed firmly against the cushions to avoid barely dangling off the edge, he felt a huge ache in his neck and head. Groaning, he tossed his phone to the ground, closing his likely red and bloodshot eye and curling up as best he could. In his head, he was still in yesterday, packing the little remaining things he could and sending himself off somewhere far away. He had not even taken off his coat, which still smelled faintly of home. His heart tinged when he remembered the train rolling away, cheers and tearful hollers following the tracks, little children and red-faced wives flailing their hands in a final goodbye. Although his eyes flittered through them all from his lonely spot at the window, none of them ever stopped to glance at him. No mother or father, no little brother, no wife. It was as if the whole world had moved on so quickly without him, not even noticing his absence.
Now, he was just a nobody, curled up on a beaten-up sofa in a dingy, alleyway apartment.
The constant buzzing of the small, window AC as it shook violently was keeping Florian awake. There was a small clock somewhere, perhaps the faded red timer on the stove, which kept ticking. It seemed to be getting louder and louder every passing minute. In the distance, cars zoomed by, filling the entire room in a dim, yellow light. He could hear footsteps, although he couldn’t identify if they were coming from outside or inside. He felt like bugs were biting at his legs. His fingers had unknowingly dug deep into his palms. It was something, anything, that kept dragging him out of unconsciousness.
Defeated and wide awake, Florian stood up shakily. As if to dissuade him, his vision suddenly blurred. His feet lost understanding of the ground, and he could hear his heart pound loudly in his chest. Suddenly, he began to fall sideways. Stumbling forward to steady himself, his foot caught on the metal handle of his haphazardly opened suitcase and he was no longer falling sideways but straight forward. Before his eyes had even registered the dark, his face made abrasive contact with hard, solid floor.
“Crap!” he gasped, his whole body splayed out on the ground. He let the pain resonate throughout his body and eventually subside, feeling his forehead for any damage. As he managed to finally pull his head up, his eye was suddenly assaulted by a blaring white light, causing him to jerk backward like a bug and roll over on his side.
“Holy smokes,” he groaned, clutching his face with his hands and curling his legs into his body like a hurt animal.
When he unfurled his arms and managed to prop himself up slightly, the light was gone. Instead, he was greeted by a silent dark figure, looming over him stiffly. His dark eyes were pinned on Florian’s face.
“You fell,” the voice said. Florian’s face ran cold as he recognized the voice of his new roommate. Scrambling to gather himself, he uncurled from the ground and stood up, tucking his shirt back in and combing his hair quickly with a finger. He stood up straighter, a smile on his face. He was acutely conscious of his body odor as his lightheadedness came back stronger.
“I did fall!” Florian smiled, clasping his hands together. “I was simply going to get some water.”
His roommate did not respond to him, and in another passing-by car light, Florian saw a look of great judgement on his roommate’s face. Florian’s ears began to burn.
“You didn’t unpack your things properly. That’s why you tripped over your bags.”
“Well, I was quite tired, so do forgive me, sir.”
There was a long, prolonged pause as he saw his roommate’s eyes scan him uncertainly. He let himself relax slightly, though his roommate had not moved a single muscle.
“My name is Matthias.”
“Right. Right, Mr. Matthias, you don’t need to worry about me.” Florian outstretched a shaky hand to pat the other’s shoulder in a comforting manner, but as it was so dark and in a moment of panic, Florian ended up caressing the other’s neck. His roommate flinched away. Florian jerked his hand back, his whole face was red in shame as his eyes darted downward.
Without another word, his roommate walked away, casting one last glance at him. Not scared, but in an irritated, judgmental way.
Florian did not move until he heard the bedroom door shut quietly. Then, he darted toward the stove top, hunching himself over and running a hand through its old, iron bars. With the other hand, he softly caressed the fire switch, flicking it on and watching the small kitchen shine with a faint, orange flame.
He laid his head on the cold, wooden counter, watching the halo of flames dance in the air, grasping hungrily toward anything that would offer itself. His heart rate slowed, fading back into a steady rhythm in his chest. As his hand turned the knob slowly up and down, the flames grew in size, morphing into shades of dark red, yellow, and blue at his will. Unlike the flames he had to face, these small, perfectly uniform ones were tame and controlled. They did not bite at his skin or cling to his neck, eating away at the oxygen that he needed to breath. They did not scream, they did not judge. Easy. Simple. Predictable. From their rusted iron cages, they were nothing more than puppets that Florian could bend.
He could not help but laugh to himself.
“If Mr. Matthias saw me doing this, I would not have a roommate no longer.”
His eyelids grew heavy as he extinguished the flames, sliding off the counter and sliding to the floor.
“Lord, I don’t give a crap about what Matthias has to say.”