Chapter Text
"Metaphysical has been science’s designation for all weightless phenomena such as thought. But science has made no experimental finding of any phenomena that can be described as a solid, or as continuous, or as a straight surface plane, or as a straight line, or as infinite anything. We are now synergetically forced to conclude that all phenomena are metaphysical; wherefore, as many have long suspected — like it or not — life is but a dream."
- Buckminster Fuller
“…And that’s why I should pass this class, signed, yours truly.”
The paper, aside from some citations that still needed to be written, was nearly complete. Derek sighed as he stared at his citations, both relieved and exhausted at the same time. God, did he wish he could prove this quote in some way; that way he could simply wake from life and suddenly be in a better place, perhaps some sort of picturesque lakeside cottage where he’d be safe from mathematics. But of course, if Fuller were to be right, then Derek had just wasted nearly four years on a chemistry major that had no solid foundation of even existing.
However, this was nearly the beginning of what was certain to be his longest year of college. Fourth year. What could be his final year, if he only aimed for the undergraduate degree. However, with one more year added on, he could be in a lab in no time. But was it worth it? Especially if he had to study quantum physics. Now, at first it had seemed like a good idea to him; a bachelor’s in Chemistry with a minor in Physics (specifically quantum physics), was certainly a good catch in the whole scheme of the job market for scientists.
However one paper in, many labs, a few weeks of class regret, and many Bang cans laying around the dorm later, Derek was feeling the sudden rush of fear catch up to him. He was fucked, to put it in blunt terms. He could drop the class, but then his chances at a legitimate higher paying position, or even to be placed in an actual lab outside of school would be seriously hurt. Plus it was a matter of ego, something Derek knew very well. There was no such thing as educational failure, at least that’s what he believed was true; you see something through, and you better get an A- or better, once you finish.
Safe to say burnout had been in the cards for Derek Hutchins since high school.
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Derek stared down at the messy desk, filled with pens, smoothie bottles, and sticky notes of all colors, “I’m doing this to show that I am clever enough to be hired, and that my mother has a son to be proud of.” That short burst of confidence and mantra only lasted a few seconds before he slammed his head against the desk, “I’m so screwed.” A couple more head bumps into a wooden desk would surely get his brain to actually finish his essay, right? Besides, it wasn’t all horrid. He had the whole dorm (which was technically supposed to be a two person dorm) all to himself.
Apparently his roommate was kind of a mystery. Derek had tried to get information through the university housing department, hall director, and even other students in his hall to understand what had happened to the unknown roommate. Each one wielded different rumors; one was that his roommate dropped out, another that his roommate was simply running late to college, and one more about how his roommate just moved rooms. How did nobody have an official answer? Not that he minded the silence and extra dorm room, that just gave him more room for his chaotic way of sorting. The perfect system, even if it looked like a psycho, crazy, hoarder’s nest.
“Come on, it’s just a conclusion. You have the evidence, the citations, even a killer introduction,” he hit his head against the desk with every word, “just. Write. The. Ending.” Derek knew that was the hardest part, he sucked at conclusions. Every essay conclusion he’d ever written was a jumble of words desperately trying to come to a satisfying end. But, they never worked out in that way; because he just wanted to add more anytime he saw that last period. He wasn’t good at endings, mostly because he thought there were never any definitive ones in life, except death of course (which he hoped wouldn't come for him anytime soon).
Although, maybe right now, death might not be as bad as the school year staring him down the barrel.
-
Derek had gotten accepted into Berkeley nearly four years ago. That had been the happiest day of his life so far. That letter in the mail, the way his mother’s eyes lit up when he told her about his acceptance, already planning for college and how he’d live on campus the same day he got the letter; everything was looking up. Besides, it had an excellent science program, so all those years of playing with children’s chemistry sets actually paid off. He was born to be a chemist, or some sort of inventor, at least that’s what his mother said when she found him making small, useless machines on the floor of his bedroom at age eight.
Yet, despite his love of science, Derek had always had a habit of pushing himself… let’s just say a bit too far. Sometimes he’d forget to eat, sleep, one time he nearly had a stroke after forgetting to drink water for a while. He’d wash his hair once, maybe twice a week, and laundry day was only on the last day of the week; all so he could have enough time to work. Success was defined by education and grades, while mental and physical health were put on the back burner labelled simply as ‘less important measures’. While at high school, his mother would tell him he had to eat, and make sure he wasn’t killing himself over a simple project, but at college? Derek was on his own.
And that wasn’t a good thing.
Today, he actually felt a bit sick from lack of nutrition. “Might as well throw something in the microwave so I won’t keel over dead,” Derek mumbled as he dragged himself away from his work over to the desk near the window, before opening the bottom drawer and pulling out one of those cuisine boxes that everyone ate at some point during college. He threw it into the microwave that rested precariously on top of the desk, and set the timer for two minutes. More than enough for it to be decently warm. “Probably need some water too.”
This was nice, just him, some food, and his work. All alone in a two person dorm, surrounded in silence, just alone with his thoughts. No one to tell him his way of organizing was a mess, or that his projects and papers were in their way. No one to tell him that he drank more smoothies and energy drinks than he did actual water, or that his habits could be considered a ‘health concern’. No one to tell him that a dorm shouldn’t have a microwave that he may or may not have messed with the wiring of. Perfect. Derek sighed dreamily as he held his water bottle, “If my roommate did drop out, this year is going to be great-”
“Shit!”
*CRASH!*
“What the hell?”
Derek set down the water bottle and headed towards the source of the noise, which ironically was right outside his door. Probably just someone running into his door by accident, but he should still check if they were okay. “Hey, you good-” Derek opened the door only to find someone flat on this face. Their head had clearly slammed against the doorway, and they lay pitifully, surrounded by boxes that had been scattered in the crash. “Uh, you good?” “Yeah, ow, just a second!” They sat up, and Derek was met with a man, clearly frazzled by his fall.
His dark hair stuck up in every direction like a frightened cat, his green eyes seemed to drift back and forth as he tried to regain his balance. He looked to be Derek’s age, maybe a bit younger, but the real calling card was the obnoxiously bright green bandana on this stranger’s head, covered in yellow flowers. “I’m okay!” He stood up, almost tripping and falling back on his ass, “I’m alright! I’m good! Oof, note to self, do not use Heelys while you are carrying boxes! Hah!”
Derek watched as the happy stranger picked up the boxes around him. They looked to be rather large cardboard boxes that he was probably carrying, albeit sort of idiotically, in front of his face… wait was this the delivery guy? Poor guy probably thought Derek’s room was someone else's, and that one of these boxes was his. Derek took a step out of his dorm, holding out his hand uselessly as if to steady the frazzled guy, “I’m sorry, you have the wrong room. I didn’t order anything.”
“Oh! No, I’m not the delivery guy!” The stranger laughed as he finally regained his balance.
“Huh, he’s a bit on the shorter side isn’t he?’ Derek thought to himself, before speaking hesitantly, “You’re not?”
“No! No, I’m Avery. Avery DeMayo. I’m your roommate!”
-
Derek felt his heart drop to his stomach, and the reaction on his face (a hesitant smile to a shocked expression), changed as such. This guy, the one who had thought it would be a good idea to roller blade inside of a college building carrying boxes, was his ‘mysteriously vague’ roommate? “Yep, I am!” Avery laughed, kicking the back of his heels to make his shoes normal again, “Smells good in there, you cooking something?” “Uh, I uh, wait-” Derek tried to stop Avery as he headed inside, “I mean yes I am but-!” It was too late, Avery was already inside of their now shared dorm.
“Woah! Dude, uh,” Avery looked around the messy dorm, “It’s been like, only a few weeks since school started. How did you already trash my side of the dorm?” “It’s a system!” Derek reasoned with him, “I have my stuff for Chemistry organized over there, and Physics is- Hey don’t touch that!” Derek ran over and pulled Avery’s hand away from a mess of papers, “That’s very important for my essays!” Avery dropped his boxes again (assuring that whatever was inside was almost certainly broken by this point) and teased him, “Well I need a place to sleep, and this is technically my side of the dorm. So… just move your stuff over to your side if you don’t want me touching it.”
“Fine,” Derek sighed, “Just, don’t touch anything that isn’t yours.” Avery picked up his boxes as Derek moved the scattered papers, mess of wires, and a small rack of test tubes which he had nabbed from a garage sale over to his side of the room, putting them all into a box underneath his desk. “You always this messy, or is today just particularly bad?” Avery asked as he opened the first box: full of shirts, either blank or Hawaiian prints. “I’m not messy, I just organize differently,” Derek walked over to him and sat beside him, “I can assure you, there’s a huge difference.”
“Oh yeah?” the second box was full of sweatshirts and belts, “How so?”
“Well, being organized means you have a system; that there’s a method to the madness. Being messy means that your room isn’t clean enough to live in, or that others cannot live with you. I can assure you that this room is fit for two, and that there are absolutely no bugs living with me.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” the third box had pants and boxers in it, “although it might be nice to have a bee or two in this room.”
“Why?”
“Cause it’d be good for my plants,” The fifth box, to Derek’s surprise, somehow held unshattered plant pots, a bag of dirt, and a carton of different flowers, “they need pollination. I just got them, and there’s only so much I can do for them inside of a dorm. It’s fundamental that they produce genetic diversity for a project of mine, you know, cross pollination for research.”
“Wait, you’re a botany major? Not a science major?”
Avery seemed to take offense to that and glared, “I am too! Botany is part of science, without it, science itself wouldn’t exist! Including uh, what major are you in?”
“Chemistry, with a minor in physics.”
“Yeah, including that too!”
“Okay. Aside from the fact that’s very wrong,” Derek patted Avery on the shoulder, “and aside from the fact that it was ores, specifically metallurgy that inspired the foundations of modern day chemistry, I don’t want bugs in the room. Especially ones that can sting.” Avery rolled his eyes and grinned, “Okay fine, no bees. But you do have to admit that botany is a scientific major, and an important one at that!” Derek heard the microwave go off, and went up to get the box he had thrown inside. Botany was certainly a major, but it technically wasn’t largely accepted in the community due to its focus on the study of plants rather than being an actual natural science like environmental science.
“Well, it certainly can lead to science. I suppose genetics and environmental studies are foundations of botany, and those are science majors.”
“Yeah, and so is botany. What are you trying to say, that it isn’t a real science major?”
“I’m saying it’s a branch of biology, and the beginning of actual courses like chemistry. You know, like foundations for genetics and whatnot?”
Avery shoved his box of plants onto the bed he was sitting on and stood up, “You think you’re better than me!” “What the hell is he talking about? I didn’t say that!” Derek thought as he watched Avery point an accusing finger at him, and he tried to counter Avery’s insult, “No! I’m just saying that it’s different from traditional sciences! Not that I think I’m better than you!” Avery wasn’t buying it in the slightest, and glowered at him, “So chemistry is an acceptable science, but the study of plants which are the reason all life exists, isn’t? Just because it’s the foundation of ‘important sciences’, doesn’t mean it’s pointless. I bet you don’t even know why someone might study botany!”
“To promote critical thinking, encourage genetic biodiversity in our environment, and displays the simplest forms of biochemical reactions that lead into chemistry, or advance human knowledge in biology. Believe me, I had to take that class too.” Derek spoke without thinking, his want to be right taking over his common sense (which was currently screaming at him to not aggravate Avery further). Avery gasped at the comment, and stuck his tongue out at him. “Don’t- don’t do that!” Derek sputtered angrily, “What are you, twelve? You’re an adult sticking out your tongue because I didn’t agree with you!”
“Well at least I don’t act like I know everything, when I clearly don’t Mister uh, what’s your name?” “Derek Hutchins.” “Derek Hutchins!” Avery stood up and shoved his boxes of clothes into his closet, “You’re probably all science and book smart or whatnot, but I bet you don’t have a single friend to talk to outside of here! Hah! Got the last word chemist boy!” Avery’s heels hit the back of his shoes as he opened the door, and he skated out into the hallway taking one last look back to stick his tongue out at Derek.
“You’re such a child! I never said-!” But by that point, Avery had already skated away, leaving the room somehow in even further disrepair as his clothes and boxes fell out of the closet, onto the floor. Derek didn’t have a single thing to say back, and stood there sputtering and stumbling over words for a moment, before he suddenly yelled out, “Go clean your room!” before slamming the door behind him. Derek walked back to his desk, forgetting his food, and went back to typing. He had inspiration for an ending; why the idea of alternate realities ends up being so interesting to physicists:
In other realities, you wouldn’t have to deal with the annoyances of your original world.
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