Chapter Text
The morning sun shone through the tall, rectangular windows. It was a Monday morning and outside, the campus buzzed with students rushing to their first class, dragging their bags, but inside the class, things were fairly relaxed, since their teacher was late. Parrot sat quietly at his table near the middle row, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared intently out the glass window. His blue eyes tracked the movement of the birds between the branches of the oak trees, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He glanced down at the empty wooden chair right next to him.
Theo was not here yet.
This was completely out of the ordinary. Sure, if you asked anyone on campus, they would tell you that Theo was the king of complaining about college. He complained about the eight o'clock morning classes, he complained about the endless flights of stairs in the science building, he complained about the overpriced coffee sold in the campus cafeteria, and he complained about the sheer amount of reading their professors assigned every weekend.
But despite all of his vocal protesting and endless complaining, Theo always showed up. He was never late, and he certainly never missed a class without sending Parrot at least five frantic text messages beforehand.
Parrot pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. The display lit up, showing the time: 8:15 AM. Below the clock, there were three unread messages he had sent to Theo over the last twenty minutes.
Parrot: Yo, where are you? Teacher isn't here yet but you're cutting it close.
Parrot: Did your alarm go off?
Parrot: Theo?? You good?
There was no reply. Not even a read receipt. Parrot sighed heavily, tapping his fingers against the cool wooden surface of his desk. He hoped his friend was okay. Whatever the reason, sitting alone at their usual two-person table made Parrot feel oddly unanchored and anxious.
To distract himself from his growing worry, Parrot turned his head and observed the chaos unfolding around the classroom. Since the professor hadn't arrived yet, the room had devolved into its usual pre-lecture hangout spot.
A few rows ahead of him, Wemmbu and Eggchan were leaning over their desks, deep in a noisy conversation. Eggchan was pointing up at the large whiteboard at the front of the room, which still bore the remnants of a diagram left behind by whatever class had used the room before them. It looked like an attempt to draw the human nervous system, but the proportions were so horribly off that it resembled an alien octopus caught in a spiderweb.
"Yo, Look at the head on that thing," Eggchan said, leaning back in his chair. "Whoever drew that definitely failed anatomy. Why does the brain look like a deflated basketball?"
Wemmbu, who was sitting sideways on his desk with his legs dangling over the aisle, burst into a fit of giggles. "No way, man, look at the spine! That’s not a spine, that’s a bended iron rod - If your back looks like that, you don't need a doctor, you need an exorcist bro"
Eggchan laughed harder, high-fiving Wemmbu. The two of them were practically inseparable, though they couldn't be more different when it came to how they handled their college responsibilities.
Over on the far left side of the room, near the classroom bookshelves, another intense activity was taking place. Spoke and Mapicc had pulled their desks together to create a flat, level testing ground for what looked like a high stakes engineering experiment.
"Steady, steady," Mapicc whispered, his hands hovering nervously over the desk as he watched Spoke’s every move. "Don't breathe on it, Spoke. I swear, if you exhale too hard, the whole system collapses."
"I know what I'm doing, bro, trust the process," Spoke muttered, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in deep concentration.
They were attempting to balance a long, clear plastic ruler across the hexagonal edge of a single wooden pencil. To make matters even more difficult, they were using small pink and white rectangular erasers as weights, carefully stacking them on either end of the ruler to see how many it could hold before tilting over and crashing to the desk. Spoke slowly held a white eraser between his thumb and forefinger, lowering it with precision onto the left tip of the wobbling plastic scale. The ruler dipped dangerously. Mapicc gasped, grabbing the edges of his own hair in exaggerated suspense.
Meanwhile, at the very back of the classroom, things were much quieter. Lomedy was sitting hunched over his notebook, completely absorbed in his own world. Instead of taking notes or reading over the syllabus, he had flipped to the very back cardboard cover of his thick spiral notebook and was doodling a chain of flowers. They weren't professtional but looked quite pretty.
Sitting at the desk beside him, Flame was just watching him quietly. Flame rested his chin on his folded arms, his dark eyes tracking the movement of Lomedy’s pen. Flame didn't say anything to interrupt. He just enjoyed the quiet atmosphere.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door at the front of the classroom swung open with a loud creak.
The shift in the room's energy was instantaneous. Eggchan dropped his legs to the floor , Wemmbu slid off the top of the desk and scrambled into his assigned seat, trying to wipe the lingering grin off his face. At the balancing table, Spoke flinched at the sudden noise of the door swinging wide, causing his finger to twitch. The plastic ruler lost its equilibrium, slipping off the pencil and sending six erasers scattering across the tabletop and clattering onto the floor.
"Aw, man" Spoke whined under his breath, dropping his head onto the desk in defeat while Mapicc scrambled to pick up the fallen erasers .
The teacher walked into the room briskly, carrying a large, clear glass bowl filled with brightly colored slips of folded paper.
"Good morning, everyone," the teacher announced, his voice projecting easily to the back row where Lomedy quickly capped his pen. "I apologize for the slight delay this morning. The faculty printer decided to jam right when I needed it most. However, we have a lot of important ground to cover today,"
Parrot sat up a little straighter, grabbing his blue pen and opening his notebook to a fresh, clean page. He was always ready to take notes, determined to maintain his academic standing this semester. [imagine]
"As you all know from looking at your course syllabus," the teacher continued, pacing slowly in front of the whiteboard, "a significant portion of your midterm grade in this class will come from group presentation. It is a full PowerPoint project that you will research, and present together as a team before the rest of your class."
A collective, quiet groan echoed through the classroom.
The teacher held up a hand to silence the murmurs. "I know, I know. You all prefer to work alone, but in the real world, you don't get to choose your coworkers, and learning how to collaborate with different personalities is a importent part of your education here. Now, to make sure this is entirely fair and to prevent you from simply hiding in your comfortable friend groups, I have made a randomized selection method."
He lifted the clear glass bowl, shaking it so that the folded slips of pink, blue, yellow, green, and black paper rustled around inside.
"Inside this bowl are colored paper chits," the teacher explained. "I am going to walk around the room. Each of you will reach in and draw a single slip of paper without looking. The color you draw determines who your partners will be for this project. Those who get the same color are in the same group. Once the groups are made, I will assign each team their specific presentation topic."
He stopped at the first row, holding the bowl out to Eggchan, who casually reached in and pulled out a slip of paper. He unfolded it, revealing a stark black square. He showed it to Wemmbu, who eagerly shoved his hand into the bowl next, digging around for a moment before pulling out a bright green chit.
"Tragic," Eggchan whispered. "Looks like we're separated, buddy. Try not to fail without me."
"I'm going to thrive without you" Wemmbu whispered back, though he looked slightly nervous as he stared at the green square in his palm.
The teacher moved down the row, stopping at Parrot's table. Parrot looked at Theo’s empty chair for a brief second before reaching into the glass bowl.
He pulled his hand out and unfolded the paper on his wooden desk.
Green.
Parrot took a mental note. Okay, green group. He looked over toward Wemmbu, noticing the green paper in the other boy's hand. That meant Wemmbu was his first group mate. Parrot swallowed nervously. Wemmbu was a nice guy, really funny, but Parrot knew from hearing the rumors that Wemmbu’s grades were sitting comfortably below average.
The teacher continued his path toward the back of the room. Spoke, still mourning the loss of his eraser tower, put his hand into the bowl and pulled out a chit. He slapped it onto his forehead, letting it stick there. It was bright green.
Parrot sighed quietly. Spoke was group mate number two. This was getting complicated. The guy bunked classes constantly, Parrot was pretty sure Spoke had missed every single Friday lecture since the semester began, preferring to sleep in or play video games. Yet, somehow, defying all known laws of the universe, whenever exam scores were posted on the notice board, Spoke managed to get really good grades.
Next, the bowl was offered to Mapicc, who drew a black chit, proceed to stare at Spoke with horror.
Finally, the teacher reached the back row. Lomedy reached in and drew a black chit, meaning he would be joining Eggchan and Mapicc. Flame reached into the bowl next and picked a chit. He opened it, looked down at the paper, and then looked up toward the middle of the room.
It was green.
The teacher walked back to the front of the room, setting the nearly empty bowl on his desk. He took the remaining folded black slip from the bottom of the bowl and walked over to Parrot's table, placing it gently on Theo's empty desk.
"Mr. Theo is absent today," the teacher said calmly, making a small note on his clipboard attendance sheet. "When he arrives next class, please inform him that he has been sorted into the Black Group"
Parrot nodded politely. "I will, sir." He felt a tiny pang of disappointment that Theo wasn't in his group, but at the same time, he was glad Theo was accounted for.
"Alright!" the teacher clapped his hands together, catching everyone's attention. "Now that you all have your colors, I want you to physically move your chairs and desks. Put yourselves into your designated groups and sit at the same tables. Once you are seated with your new teams, I will call out the specific colors and assign your research topics. Move quickly and quietly, please."
Instantly, the classroom erupted into the noisy scraping of wooden desk legs against the linoleum floor, the rustling of heavy backpacks, and the chatter of students trading seats.
Parrot didn't have to move much since his table was already located near the center of the room. He just pushed Theo's empty chair slightly to the side to make room for his incoming partners. Within seconds, the Green Group began to assemble around his desk.
Wemmbu walked over first, dragging his chair with one hand and holding his backpack in the other. He looked around the table, his eyes landing on Parrot with a friendly nod. But then, Wemmbu looked past Parrot's shoulder and spotted Flame walking toward their table, carrying his bag too.
Wemmbu stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping in dramatic horror. He threw his head back and groaned loudly enough for the next group over to hear.
"Noooooo!" Wemmbu whined, dragging out the syllables as he dramatically slumped over the back of his chair. "I'm stuck with youuu? Uhhhh, why me?! I can't have anything good in this class! Can I trade colors? Please!"
Flame didn't even blink. He calmly pulled out a chair directly across from Wemmbu, sat down. "The feeling is mutual, bro," Flame replied. "You think I want to listen to you talk for the next one week bro? I’d rather draw a no chit and do the project alone."
Before Wemmbu could fire back another complaint, Spoke literally slid into the fourth empty chair at the table. He slapped his hands onto the tabletop, looking around at his three new partners with a massive, grinning grin.
"HI HI HI!" Spoke greeted them loudly. "What's up, team green! Are we ready to dominate this project or what?"
Both Wemmbu and Flame turned their heads toward Spoke, their mutual annoyance momentarily shifting to the loud boy in front of them.
"Hi," Wemmbu muttered tiredly, resting his chin on his folded arms.
"Hey," Flame responded quietly.
Parrot sat quietly at the head of the table, holding his pen tightly as he looked around at the three boys surrounding him. He took a deep breath, his brain desperately trying to process what kind of brains were actually in his group.
First, there was Spoke. He bunks classes all the time, disappearing for days on end, but he still somehow manages to get good grades on every test. That meant Spoke was smart, even if he lacked discipline. If they could just point Spoke in the right direction and keep him focused, he could actually be a huge asset for the research portion.
Second, there was Wemmbu. Unlike his high-achieving friend Eggchan, Wemmbu currently held a below average grade in this course. However, Wemmbu was confident, loud, and comfortable talking in front of crowds. That meant he would probably be great at doing the actual speaking part of the PowerPoint presentation when they had to stand in front of the teacher.
Third, there was Flame. Parrot had observed Flame a few times during study periods. Flame got average grades -nothing spectacular, but never failing either. His notebooks were well-organized; he used dividers and highlighted margins to keep all his things in perfect order. There was just one massive problem that Parrot had noticed when he accidentally glimpsed Flame’s open notebook last week - despite how pretty and structured his pages looked from a distance, Flame’s actual handwriting was horrible.
So maybe it wasn't that bad, Parrot thought to himself,
At the front of the room, the teacher cleared his throat loudly, calling the room back to order. The side conversations quickly died down as everyone turned their attention to the teacher.
"Now that you are sitting with your respective teams," the teacher said, holding up his clipboard, "I will assign your specific research topics for the PowerPoint presentation."
He looked down at his list. "The Black Group your topic is The Psychology of Social Media Addiction."
Across the room, Eggchan gave a thumbs up, while Mapicc leaned over to Lomedy to start whispering something.
The teacher turned his gaze toward the center of the room, looking directly at Parrot’s table. "The Green Group. Your topic is Mental Health Awareness in College Students."
"Mental Health," Spoke repeated, nodding his head solemnly. "Irony at its finest, bro. Our mental health is currently being destroyed by this college, so we're basically an expert on the subject." Flame nodded grinning, agreeeing with that remark, while Wemmbu giggled, shoving his hand on his mouth to muffle the noise.
"Alright, everyone," the teacher concluded, gesturing toward the clock on the wall. "You have the remainder of this class period to hold your brainstorming. I want every group to decide on their general structure and assign research roles before the bell rings. Get to work!"
As the teacher sat down at his desk, a low hum of collaborative chatter filled the classroom.
Parrot immediately leaned forward, his green eyes bright with determination. This was his moment to set the tone for the group. He laid his notebook flat in the center of the table and clicked his pen three times in rapid succession to draw everyone's attention.
"Okay, guys, listen up," Parrot began, his voice clear and serious as he looked at his teammates. "Our topic is Mental Health Awareness. Since the teacher wants at least ten slides in a PowerPoint project, we need to divide this up logically so we don't end up overlapping our information or scrambling at the last minute."
He began drawing a small, neat diagram on his lined paper, creating boxes for each section of the presentation.
"I was thinking we break the presentation down into four main categories," Parrot explained, gesturing with his pen as he mapped out the plan. "First, we need an introduction slide that defines mental health in a collage setting"
He paused, waiting for a nod of agreement, but didn't look up from his paper.
"Second, we need three slides dedicated to identifying the primary triggers of student anxiety. Third, we need three slides focusing on the physical and psychological symptoms of burnout and yada yada. And finally, the last three slides should be about solutions like counseling center and time-management strategies."
Parrot smiled proudly at his structured outline. It was balanced and guaranteed to earn them an A if they executed it cleanly. "For the actual PowerPoint design, I think we should use a calm, professional color palette. What do you guys think of that?"
Parrot finally looked up from his notebook, fully expecting to see his group mates taking notes, or at the very least, nodding along with his strategy.
Instead, he was met with a scene of utter chaos.
Neither Flame nor Wemmbu had heard a single syllable of his speech. In fact, neither of them was even looking at the table. Underneath the wooden desk, hidden from the teacher's view, an absolute war was taking place.
It had started when Wemmbu casually stretched his legs out and accidentally bumped his shoe against Flame’s leg. Instead of apologizing, Wemmbu had left his foot there, pressing slightly harder with a cheeky smirk. Flame had immediately retaliated by driving his joggers directly into Wemmbu’s ankle.
Now, they were engaged in a silent kicking match. Parrot stared at them for three seconds, his brain completely stalling. The neat, beautiful presentation outline in his notebook suddenly felt entirely useless. All of his polite optimism evaporated in an instant, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming surge of frustration.
Parrot finally crashed out.
"Are you two seriously kicking each other right now?!" Parrot slammed both of his hands flat against the wooden tabletop with a loud BANG that rattled Spoke’s pencil. His voice rose an octave, cutting through the low murmur of the surrounding groups. "I just spent the last five minutes explaining an entire breakdown for a project that is literally worth twenty percent of our semester grade!! Theo is missing, I’m stressed out of my mind, and I am NOT going to fail this class because my group mates act like toddlers in a daycare! Stop kicking and listen to me!"
Sitting to his right, Spoke blinked wide eyes at Parrot for a fraction of a second before he completely lost his composure. Spoke slapped a hand over his mouth, he burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
Flame didn't look intimidated by Parrot’s yelling in the slightest. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and fixed Parrot with a, unimpressed look.
"Bro," Flame said, "No one cares about your yapping. You just talked for five minutes straight about some shit like, Just tell us what to do in simple words, bro. We don't need a whole lecture."
"Yeah, exactly," Wemmbu chimed in, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. "We don't need a speech. Just tell us what to write down - IF you even know what to do, Parrot. Because right now, you sound just as confused as the rest of us."
Spoke suddenly stopped giggling and leaned forward across the desk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous idea.
"Wait, wait, guys, I have the ultimate brain idea," Spoke whispered loudly, leaning in close so the teacher wouldn't hear him from the front of the room. "Why are we stressing ourselves out trying to research all this medical stuff from scratch? I guarantee you, at least fifty groups have done a presentation on 'Mental Health Awareness' over the last four years."
"Why don't we just go online, find someone else's old PowerPoint project from last year or from another university, download the slides, change the names on the title card to ours, and submit it? Boom! Instant A, zero effort, and we can all spend the rest of the week chilling instead of writing essays. It’s the ultimate life hack!"
Parrot stared at Spoke in absolute horror. "BRO- That is literally plagiarism, Spoke! If the teacher catches us doing that, we'd fail the presentation"
"Only if we get caught, bro," Spoke reasoned smoothly, waving his hand dismissively. "You just gotta change a few words around.. It’s simple!"
"No," Flame said firmly. "We are not copying someone else's project."
Spoke pouted, crossing his arms. "Why not, Flame? Are you scared of the teacher?"
"No, because I actually have some self-respectbro," Flame retorted, "I'm not putting my name on some stolen slide that another person built. If I'm going to get a grade in this class bro, I'm earning it myself. We do the work for real, or I'm doing my own presentation bro. End of story."
Parrot blinked, feeling a sudden wave of respect for Flame wash over him. Flame actually possessed some sort of integrity. He wasn't willing to cheat, which was a massive relief to Parrot's nerves.
"Holy… thank you, Flame," Parrot said, letting out a long sigh of relief. "At least someone here cares about our academic standing."
"I don't care about your standing, I just don't like being a fraud bro," Flame replied bluntly, reaching for his pen. "Now, let's just get some actual points written down before the period ends bro so we have something to show the teacher if he walks over here."
"Fine, fine, if we're doing this the boring, hard way, let's just get it over with," Wemmbu groaned, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He swiped his screen open, tapped on Google search bar, he typed out a simple query ' mental health of students points'.
He hit search, and a dozen medical blogs and articles instantly popoed up in his screen. "Okay, look at this," Wemmbu said, his voice dropping into a somewhat serious tone as he began reading directly off his phone screen. "Google says 'college students experience severe anxiety due to heavy course loads, strict deadlines, and the pressure to maintain high GPAs for future employment' or something."
"Oh, put that one down definitely," Spoke chimed in, pointing at the phone. "That is relatable content right there. I have fear of failure every single time I walk into a class without reading the syllabus."
"You don't have fear of failure, Spoke, you literally bunk class every Friday bro," Flame pointed out, though he didn't disagree with the point itself.
"What else does it say, Wemmbu?" Parrot asked, leaning over the table to catch a glimpse of the screen, eager to keep the momentum going now that they were actually being productive.
"Uh, let's see," Wemmbu scrolled down further. "Second point uhhh it says 'students frequently pull all-nighters to study or socialize, which disrupts their circadian rhythms, leading to depression, mood swings, and a lack of cognitive focus during daytime classes'."
"Mood swings and lack of focus," Flame repeated, glancing sideways at Wemmbu with a smirk. "Sounds like a detailed description of you, Wemmbu."
"Hey! I focus when I want to!" Wemmbu squawked, kicking slightly under the table again, though Flame easily dodged it this time. "Anyway, 'Tuition costs, textbooks, and living expenses cause constant low-grade panic among collage students, forcing many to work part-time jobs that cut into their study hours'."
"That's solid," Spoke nodded approvingly.
"Flame," Parrot instructed. "Since your notes are always super well-organized, grab a blank sheet of paper and write down those three points Wemmbu just found. Write down: one, Academic Pressure; two, Sleep Deprivation; and three, Financial Stress. We need a master sheet so we don't forget what we decided on by the time we meet up again."
"Yeah, fine, bro," Flame muttered. Spoke, who was sitting directly next to Flame, leaned his torso over to see what was being written. He squinted his eyes, his head tilting almost ninety degrees to the side as he stared down at the paper. "Man, look at that! Now we can't understand what we decided!"
The reaction was instantaneous.
SMACK.
"OW!" Spoke yelped, pitching forward slightly from the force of the blow. His hands flew to the back of his head, massaging the spot through his hair, but instead of being angry, he immediately burst into another bout of hysterical giggling. "What was that for, bro?! I'm telling the truth! Your writting sucks!"
"Shut up and mind your own business, Spoke," Flame warned, "I can read it just fine, and that's all that matters. If you complain about my writing again bro, I'm writing your name on the presentation as the guy who did zero work."
Wemmbu chuckled at Spoke's misfortune, locking his phone screen and sliding it back into his pocket. "Well, we have our core points. Now we just need to actually build the PowerPoint slides and divide who is going to say what during the presentation."
Before Parrot could open his mouth to suggest a timeline for when they should start drafting the slides, a loud sound cut through the classroom atmosphere. The campus bell echoed down the hallway, signaling the official end of the class period.
Wemmbu stood up, stretching his arms high above his head until his shoulders popped. He looked down at his three group mates. "Alright, boys," Wemmbu said casually, slinging his heavy backpack over his right shoulder. "Since we only have one week before we have to present this thing to the teacher, we need to get the main of the PowerPoint slides built as soon as possible I think"
He clapped his hands together decisively. "Let's just do a heavy work session today while the teacher's instructions are still fresh in our heads. Let's meet up at Parrot's home after school say around four o'clock? We can bring our laptops, order some pizza, and knock out the first six slides in one go."
Parrot, who was in the middle of carefully placing his blue pen back into his pencil pouch, froze. Wait, Parrot thought, his blue eyes widening in quiet shock as he stared at Wemmbu. When did I ever agree to host a group project meeting?! Why is Wemmbu just casually volunteering house without even asking if I’m free, or if my place is messy, or if I even want three assholes in my house?!
Before Parrot could even find his voice to interject, Spoke zipped his backpack shut with a loud zip and bounced on his heels, beaming with enthusiastic approval. "Ok! Four o'clock sounds perfect to me, bro! I'm totally free this afternoon. I'll send y'all the address in a group chat right now so nobody gets lost!"
Parrot opened his mouth, his hand reaching out toward Spoke to demand an immediate explanation for this massive invasion of privacy, but before a single word could leave his lips, Flame casually slung his heavy black backpack over one shoulder.
"Don't bother sending it to me, Spoke," Flame said simply, heading toward the door. "I know his home already, bro."
Wemmbu simply nodded his head in agreement, as if this was the most normal piece of information in the entire world. "Cool, cool, See you guys at four, Don't be late, Parrot, you're the one who has to unlock the front door!"
With a casual wave of his hand, Wemmbu turned and walked away, joining Eggchan near the classroom door as the two of them began laughing about where they were going to eat lunch. Flame followed right behind them, looking around to locate his bestfriend. Spoke gave Parrot salute and a massive grin before he turned and sprinted out into the hallway, shouting Mapicc’s name down the corridor.
Parrot sat frozen in his chair, his hands gripping the edges of his wooden desk so tightly his knuckles turned white. The silence of the empty room pressed heavily against his ears as he stared blankly at the empty doorway where his group mates had just vanished.
How did they decide on my house without letting me vote?!
Why did Wemmbu act like he owns house?!
Why did Spoke have my exact street coordinates, ready to text to the world?!
And how... why... WHEN DID FLAME EVER LEARN WHERE I LIVE?!
Parrot slowly lowered his head until his forehead rested flat against the cool wooden surface of his desk with a heavy, defeated thud. "My mental health," Parrot muttered quietly to the empty classroom, his voice muffled against the wood, "is officially destroyed."