A/N: I wanted to hurry up and get this chapter posted just to get it out of the way. We are going to go back a little bit in this chapter and see how Mello spent his day. (oh, note to Americans: football in this story refers to soccer. . . to clear confusion.)
Ugh . . . It's six already? I didn't get a very good look at the clock before I dozed off but I could wager that I was only asleep for an hour, tops. I spent the entire night doing what I've done every damn night for nine years; studying until I pass out. I don't really even know why. I know I want to be the best but I have yet to rank number one here.
Even if I actually managed it wouldn't last, I'd just be second again the next month after our placement tests. But still, I put myself through Hell trying to beat Near. It is the only reason I get up in the morning, when I sleep at all.
Today is Friday. Finally. The weekends would be a nice, class free, time to study but after a whole week of doing nothing but, I just want to sleep. Unfortunately, I have classes today. Really shitty ones too.
I only have fifteen minutes to get to my first period. Gathering up as much effort as I possibly can, I stand up and shuffle my way into my bathroom. It is so nice to have my own room. Even Near has a roommate. One of the reasons he practically lives in the common room, and the main reason I avoid that area at all costs. It's bad enough I have to see his annoying face in class every fucking day.
I primp up a little bit. It doesn't really matter what I look like, but I like to say I make an effort. I don't have enough time to change, so I rub on some deodorant, just in case, and head for class. I don't even bother with shoes anymore. Nobody does. The floors here are practically spotless anyway.
Trying my best to avoid any unnecessary annoyances, such as Linda, I hurriedly make my way down the hall to the East wing. This place is so damn huge that it takes me six minutes just to get from my room to my algebra class, at full sprint. I take pride in my ability to show up to class on time. Luckily, I made it, with one minute to spare.
After taking my seat, I try my hardest to resist the urge to throw a heavy object at the back of Near's head. And succeed. The teacher, who's name I didn't even trouble myself to remember, drones on about equations like she's explaining it to average kids. It makes no sense what so ever that this women was chosen to teach the highest ranking students. What's more is that it's algebra, not trigonometry, we know how to work these equations already. We don't even need to be here.
I decide not to listen. Her voice is irritating anyway. Instead, I opt to give myself a quiz on last night's study material. I grab my notebook and scribble basic questions and answers in it. I'd have to check those when I got back to my room. With nothing else to occupy myself with, I glance around the room at my fellow pupils. Heh, fellow pupils huh? Yeah right. They're not even in the same league as me. . . well, except Near.
The very thought is always enough to send my head spinning and my blood boiling. I just feel like hitting someone. Thus, I should try concentrating on something else. Linda. . . eck. How annoying. That girl just can't keep her pointy little nose out of other people's shit. Dodger. Heh. He's third here. Despite that, he's not even close to reaching me or Near's level. Still, the kid has the cockiest attitude I've ever encountered. Where I am concerned anyway.
Every single kid in this damn school trembles in fear of my wrath. Dodger is no exception to this, I still scare the shit out of him. I guess you could just call him a glutton for punishment. There is nothing in this room that makes me happy to be alive. . . Ugh.
I looked up at the clock only to discover that I had been pontificating for about fifteen minutes. Class was just about over. Thank God. I don't know how much longer I could've listened to this damn teacher's banter. It's seriously the most shrill and obnoxious thing I've ever heard. Well, I guess it's a tie with Linda actually.
The dismissal bell rings and the whole class practically darts out of the room, save for myself and Near. I'm not going to even try to pretend that it was an accident when I stomped on his foot on my way out. He didn't respond to it, which ticked me off. I knew he wouldn't, but if there's one thing about Near I can't stand, it's when he doesn't show how he's feeling, if he's even feeling anything at all. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't jealous. .. no, not jealous. Envious.
I wish that I could be more like that. My emotions, anger in particular, completely consume me. I just can't control them, and I hate not being in control. It's always been my number one weakness. I would bet money that most of Near's success here at Wammy's is because of his ability to keep his head on straight.
An hour and one ridiculously boring Spanish class later, it was lunch time. Having missed breakfast this morning, I was starving. I didn't even have time to enjoy a chocolate bar. Withdrawal is a bitch.
The lunchroom was buzzing with useless chatter. The girls giggling about their "secret" crushes (which were never really a secret at all) and the boys gabbing about their football games and whispering about some dirty magazines that some kid in the lower rankings got about a week ago. Where he got them is beyond me.
True, I didn't care about the gossip, that seemed to spread around the school like a plague, but you can't help but hear all this stupid shit when you're as popular as I am. Hey, I don't want to be, I just am. Rank is power here at Wammy's.
The tables in the cafeteria were always really well stocked. They usually had quite an impressive selection of chocolate goodies, I'm guessing due to L's rumored obsession with sweets. We were supposed to be carbon copies after all. I'm not complaining though. In my opinion, I'm living the dream.
I made myself comfortable at my regular table with my food and pulled out my ancient history book. Usually nobody dared to bother me while I was clearly studying. Usually. . .
"Hey Mello, finally decided to socialize I see," Dodger chided from behind me. I really wasn't in the mood for his shit today. These little encounters of ours always seem to end in bruises and bloodshed. Mostly for him, which is why I can't imagine why he keeps coming back. I would assume it was some sort of bet or something. As bothersome as Dodger is, his friends are just as bad.
"Hardly," I grumble. To anyone else it would've been a clear indication that I am not in a good mood. To Dodger, it was an invitation. I could practically hear his grin spreading behind my back.
"oh? why not? You might as well. Studying all the time isn't doing you any good. In fact, it seems to be hurting your scores rather than helping them." My teeth began grinding together of their own accord. There it was, that rage I just couldn't control. Come on Mello. . . you know what he's trying to do. Don't give him that satisfaction.
"It must be pretty tough. Trying so hard and losing out to Near every time. All he does is play with toys all day. You slipped backwards by three points this month, didn't you? Man, that's rough." He adds a snicker just to seal the deal. My stomach was churning with that irate passion that I only get when I'm pissed.
In one swift motion, I turn to the vexatious brunette and direct my balled fist at his insufferable face. I didn't really count on him expecting it. After bending backwards awkwardly, almost falling over in the process, he took off running in the direction of the cafeteria doors.
"Geez Mello, irritable much? Just when I thought you couldn't possibly be any more feminine!" He screeched as he continued to make a break for the door.
"Why don't you come back here and say that to my face you fucking coward!" I hollered. I contemplated running after him but decided against it. He was long gone by now. I have to give him some credit, he's a fast runner. It's one of the only things he has going for himself.
I decapitated my chocolate bar before heading outside. I couldn't finish my lunch now, I was too riled up. I needed to let off some steam. After thinking about it for a while, I stormed out onto the football field and grabbed a ball from the storage closet, which Roger always left open for his own convenience.
Kicking a ball around was always a great way for me to get rid of my pesky aggression, when I couldn't take it out on someone's face of course. My opponent being the hideous brick wall opposite me. I would beat Dodger's skull in the next time I see him, but for now, this ball will have to suffice.
My pent up rage continued to flow through me until I collapsed from exhaustion. I really needed some more chocolate. Intending to head back to my room really fast to grab some, I threw the ball back in the closet and went back inside. My eyes caught sight of the clock and only then had I realized how much time had passed.
If I didn't hurry, I'd be late for my next class. What was wrong with me today?! For some reason I just couldn't keep track of the damn time. I gunned it as fast as my legs would allow. Given the fact that I had just spent the last twenty minutes completely destroying an innocent ball, it wasn't very fast.
I got to class on time and the rest of the day carried on as it usually did. The teachers giving us material that we could all complete in our sleep and the students either not paying attention or eagerly taking notes, as if they stood a chance at beating me or Near. Dodger is in all my classes, so naturally I was refraining from pounding his face into an unidentifiable mass of skin and tissue for the sake of learning.
The slimy little git ran out of the class before I even stood up. I wasn't going to trouble myself with him though. I'd get around to it eventually, there was no hurry. By the end of the day I was feeling more irritable than ever. Damn chocolate addiction. Most would argue that it wasn't an addiction at all. It is medically impossible to be addicted to chocolate. So they say.
I would definitely beg to differ. Whether or not it's a medical or psychological condition, I am addicted to the sweet temptation that is cocoa. It's not an oral fixation, as some seem to think. I don't want just anything in my mouth, it has to be chocolate.
Just thinking about its amazing perfume had me salivating. I made my way up to my room, pushing past anyone who dared block my path. My stash was hidden away in the bottom drawer of my dresser.
I broke into it the second my door was closed. I hated the fact that my room was in one of the farthest wings from the classrooms. It always took forever to get from one end of the orphanage to the other. When these cravings struck, it was just such an inconvenience.
Having fed my addiction, I could now move on to more pressing matters; my self issued quiz. Usually, on Fridays, I relax by playing football or sleeping. After what Dodger said earlier though, I just couldn't. I know he was trying to push my buttons but it still got to me. He was right, I had slipped. He was also right that it was tough, it was frustrating. I need to do better. I just need to.
I worked my way down the page, finding none of my answers incorrect. I leaned back, feeling extremely accomplished. Okay, now that that's done, I need to study more. I'll never beat Near if I don't pace myself. This is all a competition and I won't settle for second place, runner up, next best thing, or anything else you want to call it.
I let myself get immersed in the contents of my textbooks, the words feeding from my hippocampus like a malnourished leech. It's in these moments, I feel like myself. Working myself too hard is just my way of life. And it is what I feel most comfortable with. If there is one thing I've learned here at Wammy's, it's that what I have is never enough. Until I reach the top, I simply can'tsettle for anything less.
There is a knock at the door only ten minutes into my study session. Wait. . . no, it's been an hour. Huh, time sure does fly when you're preparing to crush your enemy. I know it's Roger. Nobody else ever pays a visit to my lovely little dorm.
"What?" I say when I hear the door open, more or less just to let him know I'm aware he's there. I didn't bother turning around, I know who it is and I don't care what he wants. He clears his throat, as if to get my attention. It doesn't work.
"Mello, I want to introduce you to your new roommate." I feel my heart sink. I was almost sure that I freed myself from this problem. I don't give it much more thought before spinning around in my chair to face the intruder.
He was truly a sight to behold. A meek little thing, decked out in red and black stripes and. . . are those orange goggles? What the fuck? This guy is a total dork. I stand, and place myself directly in front of him. He looks at me briefly, then turns away. I, however keep my gaze on him.
Truth be, I don't really know what to make of this guy. Now that I'm a bit closer, he doesn't look quite as homely as his messy hair suggested from afar. In fact, I'd even go as far as to think he was very attractive. You see, I would think that. I would not say that. Although, attractive or not, there is no way I am going to let this happen. I turn my attention to Roger.
"What the hell Roger!? I thought you weren't going to give me anymore roommates!" He looks slightly amused by my exasperation. Fucker.
"Initially yes, that was the idea. But only because all the students in the top ten have been your roommate at one time or another and they all requested to be moved. This one, however, is new. Mello, meet Matt. He is number three," he says, his smile growing a tad as he finished.
Number three!? Shit! This kid is a threat. More importantly, he's a threat that I have to share a room with. What the hell do I do? I guess my only option is to break him. That should be easy enough. He looks like a complete pussy.
I turn my glare back to him, mostly just to give him a vague idea of the horrors that await him. He tried to avoid my eyes for a while but eventually gave in and turned his head to look at me. He seemed to get the message.
"Anyway, make yourself at home Matt. You won't be starting classes for a few days, so just try to relax," Roger added before taking his leave. I ignored it. Instead, I kept my gaze on my new victim, just long enough to make him ridiculously uncomfortable. He glanced over at my bedside table, worriedly. He seemed to be focusing on the table lamp. I raise a fine eyebrow and scowl in response. Once his eyes return to me, I turn around and sit back down.
I had the intention of studying some more but I wasn't quite able to. I wanted my room back, but it would have to wait. I'm far too tired to start a quarrel right now. In fact, I think I'm going to go into a self induced coma for the rest of the weekend.
I wasn't facing my new roommate but I could hear him as he settled onto the spare bed parallel to my own. He didn't make too much noise after he got comfortable. I wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or if he was just thinking. After a while, I was able to forget about his looming presence long enough to shift my focus back to my books.
In what seemed like only moments, when actually four hours had passed, I looked up to discover I had missed dinner. And so did my roommate. Apparently Roger neglected to tell him when it was served. He must have assumed I'd tell him. Heh.
Despite wanting to just go to sleep, I knew my body had other basic needs that had to be fulfilled first. Like hygiene and food. Since I had to go to my dresser for a change of clothes anyway, I grabbed a chocolate bar from my stash. I could feel my roommate's eyes on me as I gathered my sleeping attire and headed into the bathroom.
This was going to suck. I am so used to having my room all to myself. Sharing just isn't my thing. Still, I found myself apologizing inwardly to the unfortunate, stripe clad, brunette. It's not like it was his fault that he was invading my privacy. A classic case of 'wrong place at the wrong time', I guess. Oh well, it wasn't my problem. Besides, there's no reason for me to feel bad for him. After all, he is my newest adversary.
A/N: So. . . that's it for this chapter. Sorry to those of you hoping to get some story progression. I just felt it necessary to get Mello's view of this whole thing. All reviews are greatly appreciated, constructive criticism and praise alike. Please drop one if you have the time. Thanks for reading!
Oh, side note: The hippocampus is part of the limbic system in the brain. It controls memory formation and the process of classifying information, for those of you who didn't take anatomy.