Chapter Two
"It's been a long hard week little Demons, but hopefully I managed to cut it up nice and fine for you with some classic rock tunes. I know, I know – I do my job and I do it well. No need to thank me."
A hand slammed down on the desk, and Dean's eyes snapped open. One of his tutors stood before him, and he unwillingly pulled his headphones off.
"Am I borin' you, son?" he asked with an irritated tone. Great, he had messed this one up. It had been his intention to not gain any attention and just fade by, he thought it would have been fine if he went the whole year without ever getting spoken to by the lecturers or professors. It had been a few weeks, and he had successfully avoided interacting in lectures, he had gotten his work done and in on time. He didn't draw any attention to himself. He was never the smartest of kids, so he hadn't expected to achieve much, he had always just been aiming for a pass, a decent enough mark to get him through the years. But now, Mr Singer was standing over him with a gruff look, and he didn't quite know what to do.
Some of the nearby kids were looking over at him, knowing they hadn't really heard him speak – maybe hadn't even noticed he existed before, and he finally managed a "no, sir."
He shook his head, and flicked a hand towards his headphones, "what in God's name is so interesting anyway?"
"It's just the college radio," he said with a shrug. His voice became quiet, almost revenant as he said, "Angel's Demons."
Mr Singer rolled his eyes, with a rough, "I see" and turned away. Dean sighed with relief once he saw he was off the hook, but unfortunately for him, the encounter hadn't left him with the same invisible mystique as he had had before. The only three girls on the course seemed to have nudged towards him, leaning across and with knowing smiles, one said, "you listen to Angel too?" There was almost a tone of adoration in her voice, in fact it was practically dripping with it. He had never before considered that Angel might have a wide following, but it made sense. If he could see how amazing and addictive his voice and show could be, it was obvious that others could pick up on it.
His curiosity got the better of him when he nodded and said, "do you know much about him?"
The girls seemed to lean together and almost giggle – which was shocking because they weren't exactly the most feminine of chicks, especially considering the course they were studying. But they came back, the same girl talking again. "we don't know who he is of course – but rumour has it, he started off as a pirate radio in his freshman year. He would hack into the university radio signal and take over the show, from his bedroom. So many people started tuning into the show that it became the most popular one on the air, and eventually they just made room for his slots until he became an official part of the team, but no one knows who he is, he still does it from home. He's somysterious." They giggled again and he nodded, smiling.
They started talking amongst themselves again, nothing of importance, just girlish crooning over how dreamy he was until it faded into something else. He was too busy thinking about what they had told him. He found it amazing, he must have had an absolute gospel following for the University radio to just give in and give him a slot. It certainly added to the intrigue. He pressed an earphone back in to hear the last of his show.
"And don't forget, darlings, tonight's the late slot, the call show…"
Dean had never called in, but he had definitely thought about it. He wondered what it would be like to actually have Angel talk back for once. When he was always so used to just talking to a non-responsive voice, just daydreaming about the things they would do, hanging out, talking, watching films, listening to music. In his own mind, Angel was his perfect friend. And sure, he might have taken some liberties in filling out the blanks in her personality, but he worked with what he had. It wasn't like they were actually going to become best friends any time soon – or ever for that matter.
He swallowed hard, and tried to keep his eyes on Mr Singer, for his own sake. Maybe tonight he would break that pattern, and actually call him up. If he got the room to himself – why not? What was stopping him? Michael was sure to have some sports club, or Alpha-house bullshit to go to. Maybe even a date. He smiled to himself again, toying with the idea, it was definitely giving him something to look forward to.
And he began daydreaming what he would say, to the mysterious Angel.
