Hello Reader!
I'm a little tipsy, which i think is a great state to be writing. Here's a long chapter to get all your hopes up.
let this chapter be a reminder that I am alive, and so is this story.
i can;t begin to tell you how much I hate myself. The story's practically finished in my head, but my damn brain cant come up with coherent words to write it all down.
Anyways, hope you enjoy this. and remember: Nothing is at it seems in this story. Don't trust what you see at first glance. Esp witht he relationships, cuz ya'll love to ask me about those. terher.
disclaimer: Teen titans belongs to DC.
ps: pls leave a review or a baby alpaca. still not over those guys. I have a whole folder of baby alpaca pics.
and if anyone knws anything about dentures, ring me up. I'm gonna have a tooth extracted, and it's permamenent, and right on sight when i smile. not good.
Chapter 11
Richard was not at all shaken by Raven's (she did not bother to give him her name) outburst. It only piqued his interest some more, like a child who was told not to stick his finger in the socket. He knew he would get into trouble – or get a black eye – if he continued with his staking habits, but he could not help himself, not when he saw how opportune their situations were.
They were embodying the freaking six degrees so accurately, it almost scared Richard. Raven talks with Beastboy, who, apparently, is friends with Cyborg, both of whom have just been acquainted with Starfire. Add the fact that raven dislikes him into the mix and everything was complete. How could five very different people be connected this way?
His fleeting attention was brought back to the room when Prof. Watson slammed his book down on the table, surprising most of the students, which was probably his intent.
"An essay," Prof. Watson said, standing straight with his hands at his back. "I will be requiring a lengthy, meaningful and well-researched essay from you by the end of the semester. I'm informing you this now because I intend it to be a project spanning the next months. You will all group yourselves, like a small society with different communities working together, and make a study on how each of you interact with one another in the group. This study will then be the basis for your essay."
Groans were heard throughout the room. Obviously, no one liked the idea of working through such an elaborate project. Their forlorn reactions only fueled Prof. Watson, who smiled.
"Now, don't be so down, children" he chuckled. "It will be fun. Think about how much you can learn from one another; how you'll see each of your lives working like gears inside a bigger machine that is society."
Prof. Watson went on with his metaphors, but Richard wasn't paying attention. A group project. He looked at his stalking subjects, an odd feeling creeping inside him. It was apparent that they did not belong with these batch of student, and would most likely not know anyone here. Would he dare ask them to join him, forming a ragtag team of strangers whose only thing in common is that he's been following them very closely for the past days? Better not mention that part when recruiting them.
Raven was going to be tough. He was clearly on her shit list; the odds of her joining him would be minute.
Starfire would also be tough, seeing as she's popular despite the fact that these aren't her peers. Others might want to invite her too. He'd have to act fast and invite her first.
Beastboy and Cyborg are a package, and they seem to be more friendly. They'll be an easy catch.
But how to approach them?
He certainly couldn't just walk up and invite them like some creeper. He needed to be discreet – suave, irresistible. Richard paused, putting a momentary halt to his thinking process. This has become a habit for the past few days. He usually did it when he had the feeling that he was acting like a sexual predator.
He needed to know more about them.
And so, he set to work that night in front of his computer. He stared at his monitor, thinking for a moment. Who shall he search first. Among the four of his stalking subjects, who would be more recognizable to people? Obviously, it would have been either Cyborg or Starfire. But he did not know anything too specific about Starfire to narrow down his search, so he went for Cyborg. He opened his browser and searched for anything related to the Lockhearth University football team. Sure enough, there he was. Victor Stone, quarterback. It surprised Dick how he hadn't heard about him. The guy was practically a star, leading his team to victory here and there.
More surprisingly, Dick discovered that his father was Dr. Silas Stone, one of the country's premiere robotics expert. It might explain Victor's interest in robotics. They did not seem to have many articles or pictures together, so he moved on.
Dick spent minutes pouring over other articles about Victor before finally checking out his social networks. Facebook and Twitter, nothing else. His wall was like every other athletic college student's wall, filled with posts about sports news and events. But his Twitter was another thing. He tweeted just about the same things in his Facebook wall, but he followed accounts related to robotics, technology and food. Dick raised a curious brow. A secret hobby perhaps?
After scrolling down a couple more times, Dick saw that Victor had followed one of the university cafes a few days ago. He smiled; this looked promising. He clicked on the account. Obviously, it was filled with food related tweets, with captions inviting students to come over and have a cup of coffee. After thoroughly going through the account, Dick observed that a certain Logan1965 had been liking every tweet. Dick clicked on the account and gave out a snorting laugh. It was beastboy.
It seemed that beastboy – who Dick now knew to be Garfield Logan – was quite the activist, participating in many environmentalist events within and outside of the campus. Dick opened up a new tab and searched for any other social networks he may have. Sure enough, Garfield Logan had Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram and even Vine accounts.
Garfield, who looked too angelic for his own good in his profile pictures, proved to be funny and radical in his facebook posts, which were mostly witty commentaries or jokes about the environment, pop culture and Jennifer Lawrence. His Instagram account was abundant with pictures of him hiking or camping with people whom Dick presumed to be his parents, and also the occasional animal picture (Garfield had a selfie with one of the cutest corgis Dick had ever laid eyes on; he stared at that picture for a full minute). His vines were a hilarious take on voyeurism; it mostly consisted of clips of random strangers, with him narrating an elaborate and humorous story along with it. He noticed the constant presence of a petite blonde girl with him in his videos; probably a close friend. And finally, his Tumblr was a smorgasbord of things related to Harry Potter, more animals, and memes.
Dick went through Garfield's facebook account one more time, pouring through his newsfeed. He came across a university event Garfield shared a month ago – a Save the Hawksbill Turtle bake sale by the Young Environmentalist club, together with the Young Entrepreneurs club. Dick paused, his eyes glinting as he remembered something. Starfire was going through the business section in the library when he first saw her; it might be one of her majors.
Thinking it was a long shot, but deciding to go through with it anyway, he googled for the university's Young Entrepreneurs club. When he finally found a section about them in the university website, he smiled, clearly pleased with himself. Starfire was the secretary of the club.
He went through the section, scanning for the roster, and finally found out that Starfire was Kori Anderson, cheerleader, Marketing and Art History major, and sister to Camille Anderson – a famous lawyer and partner in one of the city's most prestigious law firms. He opened Kori's facebook and Instagram accounts, his natural male attraction to the clearly beautiful woman piquing his interest. He was disappointed at what he saw.
Eveything seemed contrived somehow, as if every post and picture had been planned. Of the countless polite posts and club photos, he learned nothing new about Kori. It was as if she were trying to portray a perfect image for herself, and it did not take long before her account bored Dick. He looked at one last photo with unease; she'd seemed so full of life in person.
Sighing, he opened a new tab and paused. How to look for Raven? She clearly wasn't in any of the other four's social circles. He thought for a good minute before it finally struck him. She was in the university orchestra. he went back to the university website and found out that their orchestra had their own Youtube channel. Dick clicked on the link and grinned wide. There were at least a dozen playlist and a hundred videos, there was no chance of not finding Raven here. Resisting the urge to click on the first video on the channel, he scrolled down, hoping to find something more promising. His effort was rewarded. There was a playlist dedicated to Cello soloists and when he opened it, videos of Raven comprised more than half of the playlist.
Dick spent the next hour looking through one video after another, entranced by each performance. As stoic and emotionless as she was in real life, she looked absolutely passionate when she performed. He thought she was pretty good, and looking through the comments, he found out that he wasn't the only one who thought so. Dick smiled to himself, remembering one of Alfred's many impassioned speeches about art and music: "the greatest, young master Richard, are those who have lived a full life – those who have been through life at its worst and at its best, but whose works were nonplussed, but instead, nurtured by such adversaries."
A full life. Dick looked intently at the video of Raven, whom he now knew as the prodigious Rachel Roth. He opened a new tab and googled her. After scrolling down the results, he found out that she did not have a single social network account. Everything related to her were about her performances in the orchestra. How could one with such a full life be invisible, Dick thought to himself.
He leaned back against his chair, his eyes admiring the numerous tabs in his browser. He might not have discovered much about his stalking subjects, but knowing their identities was good enough. He tucked his hand behind his head, feeling pleased with himself. His jubilation was shot lived, however, when he remembered: he still did not know how to approach them without looking like a complete stalker – which he truthfully was. He let out a defeated sigh and slumped down.
"Is it anything I can be of help with, young master Richard?"
Dick turned towards his door where Alfred stood with a tray of biscuits and milk. "You did not come down for dinner, and it's far too late into the night for you to have any. So I thought a light snack would get you through the night," Alfred said, walking towards Dick's desk and setting the tray gracefully on top of it.
"Thanks, Alfred. I'm just…doing some research," Dick smiled, hoping to keep Alfred's eyes from the monitor. But the butler was keener than anyone gave him credit for.
"With the kind of research you're doing, young master, I'd expect it would be safe to inform Master Bruce to get in touch with the family lawyer."
"What? Why would you-"
Alfred's eyes narrowed, making Dick gulp.
"Ok, so I'm at it again, but I'm being careful!" Dick emphasized with a huge grin, hoping to appear angelic.
"Richard, it is improper to stalk people within or without the internet. I thought you would have learned from last time's incident."
"I did. But if I remember clearly, I helped Bruce out of some big trouble because of my stalking. This is purely harmless and completely beneficial."
Alfred sighed. "Alas, a manipulative tongue was one trait I had hoped you wouldn't pick up from master Bruce." The butler sat down on the edge of Dick's bed and looked at him with firm but gentle eyes. "What is it this time?"
Dick smiled, clearly relieved that he was not getting reprimanded. "There are four people in my class that intrigue me."
"How so?" Alfred inquired, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
"I don't even know, Al. There's just something different about them. Four people couldn't be more different than each other than these guys are."
"And you want to get acquainted with them?"
Dick looked sheepish and scratched the back of his head. "I guess. I've only talked with one of them and it did not go well."
"The conversation did not last long?"
"That, and she ended up hating me afterwards."
Alfred raised a disapproving eyebrow, implying that it might have been something that Dick did. "And the others?"
"That's just it. I don't know how to approach the others. I've been doing some research on them and only the most trivial of things connect them. I can't possibly strike up a conversation with 'hey, so you like bake sales and coffee?'"
Alfred did not reply. He was looking at the monitor, and from his narrowed eyes, Dick could tell that he was thinking deeply. "That is the Lockheart university orchestra," Alfred murmured.
Dick turned towards his monitor. "Yeah. Rachel Roth's their principal cellist. She's quite good."
"Yes, I've heard her quite a few times. She quite a talented young woman," Alfred mused, nodding his head slightly.
Dick's head snapped back towards the butler, confused. "What do you mean you've heard her? You've actually seen her perform?"
Alfred was taken aback. "Yes. On some weekends, I fancy going to the city's orchestra hall and listen to whoever's performing. Miss Roth here has performed a number of times there. Not to mention in some of master Bruce's own galas as well."
Dick could have fallen from his chair in shock. "Bruce's gala?" he whispered. Without another word to Alfred, he got up and dashed beside his bed, grabbing his bag. After rummaging through it, he brought out the crumpled invitation for the gala. He ripped it open ("I worked hard on those invitations, master Richard") and scanned through the long list of attendees - the mayor, several politicians and businessmen, other high society people. Two names caught his eye: Dr. Silas Stone and Atty. Camille Anderson. Unable to stop the grin forming on his face, he scanned further down and let out a shrill laugh. The Lockhearth university orchestra would be performing for the gala.
Dick spun around, meeting Alfred's confused face with his own hysterically excited one. "I've got it, Al."