Chapter Text
Clap! Clap! Clap! The sound effect echoed throughout the room.
"Ah, yes. That's another win!" Avery laced his fingers behind his back before leaning into his swivel chair. The neon glow from his computer highlighted his victorious grin. He let himself spin slightly, humming a jolly tune in satisfaction. "I try to be humble, chat. I really do." He slouched back, half-propped against his desk. His eyes stayed glued on the active chatbox in the corner of his screen.
His fans were eating up every bit of his glory. Avery struggled to read through the horde of exaggerated praises, some interrupted by sarcastic quips about the times he faltered mid-game. "It's my keyboard! This thing is like– what– five years old?" He shrugged as if they could see him. "But hey, I won though! Cut the guy some slack."
Avery reached out to grab the soda can in the corner of his table. As he scanned his surroundings behind him, his eyes landed on the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. Registering the numbers, he squeaked in shock.
5:30 AM.
The darkness in the room suddenly became painfully obvious. The air-condition was already monotonously buzzing – its own cry for help after hours of use. Even the small bin underneath the desk seemed to be complaining. Inside, energy drinks and soda cans piled on top of one another, forming a sticky sweet mountain.
Grabbing his mouse, Avery quickly closed the game window. "Oh my days bro. Why did no one tell me I've been streaming for fifteen hours straight? Why are you guys even here? Touch grass!" He bid a quick goodbye to his viewers, who were mostly scolding him for being a hypocrite, and headed off to bed.
Avery hit the foam face first. The fatigue of the day had finally caught up to him. All of a sudden, his bones felt as heavy as cement blocks, his eyes blurry as if he'd inhaled something damning. He felt like a zombie.
Avery groaned before reaching for his phone. He didn't particularly feel any need to do so; he was very much done with electronics for the day. His body, however, overruled this concern and instead pushed through due to force of habit.
Upon unlocking his screen, brightly staring back at him was an endless list of notifications. Avery huffed as he scrolled through them absent-mindedly. Most of them were either updates from various gaming websites, emails, or stream notices. He didn't bother reading them – they're usually either automated or scams.
Finally, somewhere near the bottom, there were actual messages from his family and friends. He had about five texts from his mom reminding him of his chores for tomorrow; two from an online friend who wanted to call earlier; and one from his dad who told him to listen to his mom.
Avery was about to press the power button and call it a day when there was one unread message that caught his eye. It was from a classmate back in university:
'Dude hows yur project goin? Ts is making me wanna kms.'
Ignoring the annoyingly simple typos and abbreviations, Avery tensed. He could've sworn he felt the temperature drop by a few degrees.
Before the semester ended, Avery's chemistry teacher had assigned them some work to do over their break. Sadistic, Avery thought. He didn't complain at the time, however. He was already on the brink of failing the class – the last thing he needed was an unnecessary disagreement with his professor.
The problem now lay in the fact that it had already been a couple weeks into their break. Christmas had already come and gone, and he hadn't done a single thing for his project.
Worse? It accounted for 60% of his grade.
Avery stared as his phone faded into the darkness, his screen turning black. He got up to plug it into his charger before flopping onto his mattress once more.
Outside, the sun was already rising. The light seeped in through the bedroom blinds, illuminating a few items in the room. Avery squinted as a random ray landed on his eye. He turned to the other side, mostly burying his face into the pillow.
"I'll figure it out later..." he relented.
The glass tray rotated steadily, matching the rhythm of the microwave's dull humming. With each second, the container of pasta grew hotter. By the last fifteen, the sauce was already boiling. The plastic popped a few times before the upbeat alarm rang and the light turned off.
Using a dishcloth – it was closer than the potholders – Avery awkwardly took the smoking container of pasta out the microwave. He winced as his finger slipped, grazing the container slightly. He muttered a few curses before rushing out of the kitchen.
On the dining table was a singular placemat. It had a half-empty glass of cold water on one side and a fork on the other. Emerging from the kitchen, Avery placed down the food in the center. "Ugh..." He shook his hand, still feeling the burn from earlier.
From the far end of the hall, a door clicked open. Avery turned his head to the sound.
"Mom? Are you hungry? I heated up some leftovers," he called out cheerily. His mother walked in the dining area. As she saw the meal before her, she relaxed. She wordlessly beelined toward her seat and began to dig in – barely even bothering to let each bite cool.
Avery pulled up the chair opposite to hers. He rested his cheek on his palm, fondly watching her eat.
"How was work? I hope you had a great day today."
His mother shot him a look. "Don't think you're not on thin ice, young man." She reached for the nearby tissue box to wipe the sauce on her lip. "Seriously, Avery, I can't believe you. You were home for the entire day and you didn't get a single chore done!"
"In my defense–" Avery sat straighter now, "–I kinda woke up late. Around 2pm."
"Oh, I wonder why."
"Because I want to catch up on sleep-?" He offered hopefully. His mother was not amused.
"Don't think I don't know what you do." His mother pushed down the fork with more force than necessary. "You stayed up late playing video games again."
"Mom–"
She took a bite before crossing her arms. "Don't even deny it, Avery. I know you. I know your habits," she said ominously.
Avery stayed silent. He understood that her words left no room for any argument or reason – not like he had any. She wasn't wrong, after all. He nervously fidgeted with his hands, unsure of what to do.
He felt bad, of course. Both of his parents had left early to go to work. Unlike Avery, except for Christmas day itself, the season didn't grant them any exceptions from their jobs. They asked for nothing but for him to tidy up while they were away. They didn't even assign anything too tedious – simply vacuum the floor, throw the clothes in the washer, and keep the sink empty. Nothing too demanding.
But because he woke up so late, Avery had just finished his first meal of the day when his mother had texted the family group chat that she was already on her way home. When she arrived, Avery was yet to wash his plate.
Needless to say, she wasn't happy.
"I didn't even ask you to start tidying up the Christmas tree! I just wanted the bare minimum, Avery."
As his mother finished the food he had heated up, which he did in order to soften the inevitable blow, she looked at her son. "I'm disappointed."
Avery's lips thinned. He didn't meet her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."
They sat in silence for a while. Avery wondered what the ultimatum would be. Would they ground me? Cut off my allowance for the week? Take my phone? It didn't help that he couldn't study the expression on his mother's face; he couldn't even bring himself to face her properly.
"We're taking away your PC." The words made Avery's head snap.
"What? You can't do that! All my stuff is in there, Mom! I mean like– everything! Not just my games, but my school work too!" His voice was laced with a rare desperation that he had a hard time recognizing. His parents have punished him before, but the terms weren't usually this drastic.
His mother chuckled humorlessly. "I didn't say forever. Besides, it's not like you're going to die without it." She gave him a pointed look. "You know, back in my day, we got all our work done in the library. We didn't have all these fancy gadgets you kids like so much."
Avery groaned. He didn't need this lecture; he's heard it more times than he could count. "But I have a project, mom. I have a whole research report that I need to submit," he paused, thinking of another concrete reason. "It needs to be typed. Strictly typed."
Unfortunately, his mother had prepared for that too. "That won't be a problem. I'm sure you'll be able to get it done at the computer café down the street."
"Mom–"
"No, Avery." She shook her head. "You reap what you sow. These are the consequences of your irresponsibility." She stood up from her seat. "Besides, if you had a project over the break, then how come you spent the whole night playing?"
Avery didn't have a counterargument for that. He wasn't planning on exposing the fact that he totally forgot about it either – that'd just put him into more trouble. His mother smiled smugly at the lack of response.
"Two weeks, no PC. That's final." She didn't give him any time to react, immediately making her way to the living room. Soon, Avery heard the faint sounds of the weekly aired sitcom she and his father had always loved.
"Avery?" She called out.
"Yeah-?"
"Finish your chores before your father gets home. Who knows? Maybe I'll consider reducing your sentence to thirteen days."
As she laughed at her own joke, Avery was still seated at the dining table. He stared at the now empty container, silently contemplating his recent life choices.
Once he had enough, he slammed his head down on the table – everything else rattled. Sensing that the TV volume was loud enough to drown him out, Avery allowed himself to huff in frustration.
This was going to be a long two weeks.
It was around 9 in the morning when Avery found himself standing in front of the nearby computer café. His black backpack, decorated with dozens of niche pins and keychains, slung lazily over his right shoulder. He had brought a few notebooks, some printouts of his modules, pens, a water bottle, and a USB loaded with a few files he managed to transfer at the last minute.
He had to childishly race his father up to his room to do that last night. There was no one in the universe who was more enthusiastic in confiscating a PC than his old man.
Avery sighed. He fished out his phone, sending a text to both of his parents, notifying them about his whereabouts. They were pretty excited over the idea of him getting out of the house. Giving them the satisfaction was the least he could do to make up for yesterday's offence.
Once the small tick appeared on the side of his chat bubble, Avery closed his phone and headed inside.
The shop bell jingled as the door opened. Cool air filtered into the small space from the outside. The nearby calendar swung on the wall, the unglued ends of a few posters flapped frantically. A couple of heads – most with glasses that reflected various graphics from their screens – turned to look at the new stranger.
Oh my God. Avery shoved his hands into his pockets. He focused on the floor, avoiding the curious eyes as he made his way to the front desk.
"Uhm... how much for like– uh–" Avery scrambled for his words. He hated the feeling of being watched more than anything. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "How much for about 2 to 3 hours?"
He heard the man across the table hum distractedly. "About 20 bucks." Avery was quick to grab his wallet and dig up a bill. He ended up slamming it down the counter much louder than he should have. He flinched at the sound.
"I– I didn't mean–"
Avery was interrupted by a deep chuckle. The sound was so crisp and pleasing that it made him look up at the man behind the desk.
"It's okay," the man leaned in, a small smile on his face. His dark eyes crinkled, and soft dimples appeared on his cheeks. Avery's heart skipped a beat. "I hate being stared at too. Hell, I'd tell them off if they weren't charitable regulars."
The man raised a finger, pointing somewhere behind Avery. "There's a free booth over there. It's got enough space for your notebooks."
"How– how did you–"
"I know a stressed uni student when I see one," he chuckled again. "I'm impressed, honestly. Not everyone is willing to work just 2 days after Christmas."
Avery worried he was going to get a heart attack right there and then. "Cramming," he blurted out. He hated how high-pitched his voice was. He was 20 years old, for heaven's sake.
Trying to avoid another awkward silence, Avery forced a casual grin on his face. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it." He gave the man an awkward salute – this time, the guy just smiled. Before he could embarrass himself any further, Avery rushed toward the empty booth, not daring to look back.
Once seated, Avery let himself settle in for a few moments before dropping his head on the table. Holy shit dude! What was that?! Did I just salute? Why did I do that? Oh my days... He ran his hands through his hair, messing up his locks. His eyes shut tight as he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the humiliation.
Keyword: trying.
Avery most definitely did not succeed.
"Get it together," he said out loud. He snapped upright before smacking his palms on both sides of his face. The sound made some people look at him again – he didn't notice them this time.
"Lock in dude. Lock in."
The chair scraped the floor as Avery pushed back to grab his bag that he had just flung into the corner of the booth. He unzipped it open and began setting up his workspace. Soon, his notes were out, his pens were lined up, even his bottle was now on top of a complimentary coaster.
That guy was right... This booth is kinda spacious... Avery sat back down, now feeling a tad bit satisfied with himself. He slid his USB in the port before setting his fingers on the keyboard, ready to work.
It didn't take long, however, for Avery to understand why they were given the whole break to do this. Not only did he have to go through thousands of pages of notes and lectures, but he also had to write a five page paper about a topic he was totally clueless about.
Soon, more time passed. He was already nearing the first hour of his stay and he was yet to do anything productive. In this amount of time, Avery's booth had now plunged into complete and utter chaos. Around him, notebooks were scattered, open in random pages with messy highlights. His pens, once aligned neatly, were now missing a few caps. He didn't even have water anymore.
Bro... I probably zoned out for this entire lesson... Avery ran his hands down his face in frustration. I genuinely don't get how I forgot something so important. Like– hello??? What am I on?
He was still berating himself, not getting any work done, when a shadow loomed over him from behind. Avery didn't even notice the other presence until it leaned down beside him.
"Odd," a voice said. "You've been here for almost an hour and all you've typed is gibberish..." he looked at Avery with a teasing expression. "Unless that's some sort of code that I don't know about."
On the screen was the document that Avery had opened earlier in hopes to get something done. It hadn't changed much; it was still mostly clean – almost empty. However, at the top left, was a nonsensical string of letters and symbols that Avery had typed out of sheer boredom a couple of minutes ago.
'?>wdaswadd'
"Oh my days..." Avery covered his face. His cheeks were red, and he could feel the heat crawling up his skin. Whether it was from shame or the fact that the gorgeous guy from the front desk was mere inches away from him – Avery couldn't tell.
"Don't look, man. It's just sad." He groaned into his palms, mentally cursing himself. "You can't be catching me lacking like this..."
The man laughed playfully. "Maybe start writing your actual name first. That's something, at least," he offered kindly. This suggestion made Avery peek through the gaps of his fingers.
"Is this you asking for my name?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled. He didn't understand where the sudden courage came from.
"No, I know your name. Avery, yeah?" The man smirked smugly. He crossed his arms as Avery fully turned to look at him. Slowly, Avery peeled his hands away from his face.
"Stalker tendencies?" He tilted his head.
"None of the sort. I'm just very aware of the boy living up the street."
Avery quietly considered the man's words, trying to logically reason with himself that this guy wasn't an actual creep and was probably just the most observant guy on the block.
Yeah, that's probably it. Definitely.
The man was standing straight now. His eyes were on Avery's notes, studying them with a serious expression that Avery had never made himself. "Chemistry?"
"Oh, yeah..." Avery suddenly grew conscious of his hand writing. He stared at his notebook, grimacing at the sight. "Wait," he turned to the man again, playfully incredulous. "Don't change the subject, bro! You're still a stranger who knows my name!"
"Like I said, I'm just very aware," the man said with a shrug.
"Ok, cool, but how come I've never seen you before? It's kinda weird that you've apparently seen me a lot."
They were quiet for a few moments. The man was staring at Avery with an unreadable expression. The suspense was nerve-wracking. Avery started to wonder if he'd hit the bullseye.
Shit. Is he actually a creep? Am I talking to a dangerous guy? Bro he was so pretty too–
He ignored the last comment for dignity's sake.
It seemed possible, however. He should have at least some recollection of this guy. Avery had lived here for all of his life. He'd seen neighbors come and go, kids grow up and leave. He'd even left for university himself last year too.
Did he move in while I was gone? Ok but that's weirder... How could he be aware of me if I wasn't even here?
Before Avery could spiral with more questions, he heard the man behind him sigh.
"We go to the same university, actually." He flashed Avery a kind smile. "If you're still skeptical about that, I've got a few folks living around these parts too. Personally, I just moved in here, but they talk a lot for me to know."
"No way..." Avery's mouth formed into an o-shape as he tried to process the new information. He was very glad that he had thought wrong about him. The reason as to why, however, was something he'd think about later. Avery tried convincing himself that it had nothing to do with the wild beating of his heart.
"It's a small world, huh? You must be in a different year, mystery guy."
"Fourth," the other confirmed. His eyes flew back to Avery's opened files. "I'll leave you to work. I was just passing by." He gave Avery a quick nod before making his way back to the front desk.
"Oh, and one more thing." The man looked back.
"'Mystery guy' is a pretty sick nickname, but Derek is good too if you like."
Once he turned back around, Avery's hands flew back to his burning cheeks. He let out a muffled squeal.
After typing out one final word, Avery let out a loud sigh. He leaned his weight onto the chair, staring up into the ceiling. Why did I even take this class again? He'd asked himself the same question every few minutes or so.
He let himself mull over his past choices for a while before he looked back at the screen to check the time. His brows furrowed at the numbers on the screen.
1:30 PM.
Bro. What is up with me and messing up the time?
Avery hastily stuffed his items into his backpack, logged off the computer, and stood up to leave. He had already overstayed the 2 hours he promised. He let out a groan as he thought of it. It didn't particularly help that he hadn't eaten anything since getting there.
As he approached the exit, however, Avery's frustrations soon faded into dread. In order to get outside, he'd have to pass by the front desk. He swallowed hard. The mere thought of coming face to face with Derek again made his knees weak.
Just how many times am I gonna embarrass myself today? Stay tuned to find out!
"Whatcha readin?" Avery put on a playful tone as he peeked over the counter.
Derek's head was down, his eyes zeroed in on an open book. "The King in Yellow. Chambers." He looked up at Avery, blinking behind the lens as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Productive?"
"Y-Yeah... Thanks for the– uh– big booth. It was comfy." Avery's mind was, once again, in shambles.
He's wearing glasses. He's wearing glasses. He's wearing glasses. Gollyyyyy... The innocent words felt sacred, as he chanted over and over in his head. It took every ounce of his willpower to maintain a casual face.
"I'm sorry, I think I overstayed. I'll just pay extra." Avery pulled out his wallet, ready to grab another bill.
"No need," Derek said with a firm shake of his head. He pushed his glasses up. "I didn't see you get up at all. You must be hungry. Use that to order takeout or something."
"You didn't eat either. Pretty sure you were here this entire time," Avery pointed out. Derek's concern for him made his heart do another flip. "I have an excuse. I was getting stuff done. You, though? Were you reading this entire time?"
"Guilty." Derek closed the book before storing it in a drawer nearby. "Although I did get up to grab something earlier. I think that counts."
"And what did you have?"
"A protein shake."
Avery threw his head back in laughter. "Bro, that does not count at all! Are you hearing yourself?" He looked at Derek who was now frowning and crossing his arms.
"At least I have something in my stomach."
"Barely."
"Okay, Avery. Go get something to eat before I decide to charge you double."
Avery faked a gasp. "You'd never!"
"Don't test me." Despite his words, Derek's face softened. He fondly watched Avery laugh again as though he said the funniest joke in the world.
"Okay, okay, fine. You're lucky that I'm actually hungry." Avery continued toward the door.
"See ya, Derek!" He called out. Avery left the café with the biggest smile on his face.
As the oven door opened, the smell of freshly baked salmon filled the house. The space was so overwhelmed that Avery, although in his room on the second floor, smelled it immediately. He quickly scampered out of bed and rushed downstairs. His mother was very much surprised to see him.
"Goodness, Avery. A little warning next time? You could've given me a heart attack." She was carrying the steaming casserole in her hands. "I could've dropped dinner, you know!"
"My bad, mom," Avery said, looking anything but apologetic. "I was just really really hungry."
"I can tell." His mother eyed him suspiciously. "Did you even eat at all while you were at that café?" Her son's silence made her face harden. "Avery."
"I was busyyyyy..." this made her scoff.
"'I'm glad to be home!' He said. 'I'll eat everything I can't eat back at uni!' He said." Avery could only smile in defeat as his mother recalled his words.
After placing the main course on their quaint square dining table, the mother-son duo walked around the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. Avery was on his last trip to get some glasses when his father showed up.
"It smells lovely in here," he said with a smile. "Good food, good life."
"Well, your son won't be living long then. He hasn't eaten at all today," Avery's mother butted in. She shot Avery with a sardonic look that made him groan.
"Again, I was busy!" He set down the glasses at their respective places. "Plus, I chugged my entire bottle!"
"It's odd." His mother sat down. Her husband soon followed. "You're literally the most distracted person there is. Surely, you'd notice you haven't eaten. You usually make up every excuse to get up and do anything else."
Avery opened his mouth to retort, but paused. Ok, she's lowkey not wrong. He thought about it for a moment. "I was locked in this time. Shocker, I know."
Next to his mother, his father chuckled. "I'm glad you're focusing, son." He placed a hand over his wife's, rubbing small circles on her skin. "But remember to take care of yourself, yeah? I'll admit, it is kinda new seeing you so..." he furrowed his brows, trying to remember the words. "Locked in..-? Is that what you said?" Avery's mother laughed.
"Dude." Avery rolled his eyes. "Not you too, dad..."
Again, they aren't wrong, though. His deviation from his usual habits surprised him too. Indeed, he didn't usually sit down focusing for too long – an hour was already a stretch. Thinking about earlier, it was practically a miracle that he stayed there longer than he said he would.
Maybe it's because of–
"Aves? Aren't you going to eat?"
Avery blinked. He looked at his parents who were both watching him with a mixture of both concern and confusion. He took a deep breath, shoving down his thoughts.
There is absolutely no frikin way that I'm gonna tell them about Derek.
"Mhm." Avery brought up the fork of salmon in his mouth. "This is delicious."