His fingers have been tapping the desk for long minutes, too long minutes, a sign of his annoyance, of his patience being tormented. His eyes are riveted on his computer screen, his dark eyebrows betray his rumbling anger.
He reads for the umpteenth time the conversation posted on the private chat.
From Feferi: Your goal was to make friends, not to make fun of mine! I was stupid, I naively believed that you would be able to behave, to make an effort, but you remain only a narcissistic and obnoxious moron!
From Eridan: What's wrong with pointing out our condition? The hierarchy is like that. We are above the rest, no matter what you say. It's normal that the inferior people obey us.
From Feferi: In friendship there is no hierarchy, there is no master or absolute obedience! In my group, we try to stick to what people are for their qualities and faults, not for their fucking rank!
From Eridan: This is the kind of stuff that will be your downfall. Feferi, you're smart, you're bold, you're daring. Don't ruin it by making friends with people of lower rank. They will only take advantage of you, and you have nothing to gain from them.
From Feferi: I don't even know why I keep trying. You don't listen, you don't care, you're so sure you're right that you're deaf to my arguments.
From Feferi: Fuck you Eridan, I don't want anything more to do with you.
- This contact has blocked you, you can't send him any more messages or receive any from him -
Eridan runs a hand over his face. His eyes are burning. Because of too many screens? He takes a breath, calms the tears that are just waiting to come out.
He looks again at the screen, reviews his contacts.
Vriska blocked him. Kanaya also. Equius, Tavros, Terezi, Nepeta, Sollux...
He has only 11 contacts on the only social network he deigned to have. 11 contacts that ended up blocking him, over the last few weeks, ending with Feferi who cracked a few hours earlier, in the evening.
And there Eridan is, frozen in front of his screen, in the middle of the night, on the eve of a school day.
" ... Fuck."
Silence answers his insult. He grits his teeth, sweeps the desk, sends his keyboard flying and it goes exploding against the floor.
"FUCK!"
A few keys flew, littering the floor without him giving a shit. He'll buy a keyboard again, it won't be the first, let alone the last.
And his feelings prevent him from worrying about any hardware anyway.
Where did he screw up? He knows. Of course he knows. Feferi was everything to him, since childhood they were always together. Their families are affluent, had many collaborations, and Eridan naturally grew close to the girl.
It seemed normal to him that they were friends. They were of the same social class, they had only advantages to get closer, and Eridan could already see himself marrying her. Not for love, although he cared about her, but for profit.
They had been separated in high school. Eridan heard from her by phone, and that was enough for him. Even though he missed her, even though he had never managed to make any other friends - the other nobles were content with politeness and never went any further - even though Eridan felt the loneliness lacerating his heart... he had consoled himself by thinking of seeing her again. Seeing Feferi again, staying with her.
They had met again at the university last year. But Feferi wasn't like him. She was sociable, kind, funny.
She had made a lot of friends, from all walks of life. They were a group of about ten people, and the girl had invited him to join them.
How could this have turned out well? Eridan was appalled. He had made the effort for his comrade, but he didn't understand how one could befriend inferior beings, people coming from modest backgrounds, even a scholarship holder...! What a cruel joke.
Feferi's 'friends' had made the effort to welcome him, and for a while the balance had held... at least, Eridan had thought he fit in a little. But soon things had broken down.
Finally, they all gave up.
Because Eridan is demeaning. Eridan is haughty. Eridan is tactless. Eridan is a jerk, a noble snob who doesn't belong in their group.
And Eridan is lonely. More lonely than ever.
The university is an ordeal. Eridan has stubbornly come to class all these years to be in Feferi's company, but now what is the point? He can't go back, his ego can't take it. He, an Ampora, fleeing civilization only because he lost his only friend? That would be admitting that he has failed, that he has lost the only thing that gave meaning to his life. He has already made this mistake, he doesn't intend to make it again.
He swears, holds his head high, walks into the courtyard that borders the main building. He notices the looks around him. It's hard to ignore him, with the exuberance of his purple and blue clothes, his scarf that flutters in the wind, his long coat that one would take for a cape straight out of a fictional work of fantasy. Not to mention his dyed hair, and the rings that cover his fingers. He wears quality, and his haughty air and reputation precede him. It's hard to ignore the name Eridan Ampora.
But the looks aren't admiring or envious, no. They are angry, hateful, full of threats. They don't want him here, they hate him. Well, he hasn't done much to make himself hated, it's not like he talks to many people - apart from Feferi and his group of friends.
If Feferi hates him for his behavior, it' s different for the other students, who hate him without ever having conversed with him. They hate him out of jealousy for his wealth, but also out of resentment towards the Ampora family, whose rumors are easily spread. People say that they mistreat their employees, that they bully them, that they underpay them, before finally firing them for no good reason and replacing them with more efficient and less expensive employees.
Unfortunately, Eridan cannot deny the facts. These rumors are a shocking truth. But what can he do about it? He' s not in charge of this company, not yet. His father is in charge of it, and he isn't a person who is resented, even less when his health is at stake.
He holds back a sigh, enters the building, crosses the hall, ignoring -or trying to ignore- the stares that continue to follow him, that weigh him down far more than he tries to show. He hates to look weak, he' s NOT weak. He' s of higher rank, no one can undermine him.
Eridan goes to the lockers. He stops at his, opens it and puts in the things he doesn't need right now. He' s in the process of closing his bag when he hears a thud a little further, as well as a yelp of pain. He turns his head, to see Karkat a few feet away, pinned against the lockers by a trio of students.
Karkat Vantas, a friend of Feferi's and the bursary student Eridan mentioned earlier. He doesn't hate him, not really. Eridan doesn't hate inferior beings, but that's all they are to him: inferior. However, Karkat has been a pleasant company, he will not deny it. Of course he is quick to get carried away, he raises his voice and insults, but Eridan has also discovered him to be patient and attentive. He was, with Feferi, the one who tried to reason with him about his behavior, before finally blocking him a few days earlier, shortly before Feferi broke down in his turn.
Eridan feels this pain, a little too familiar, which tugs at his heart and gives him crazy ideas. Should he apologize? Apologize to...that fellow? That poor guy? It is true that calling him 'Scholar' all the time and reminding him of his miserable condition was not the brightest idea Eridan had. But what's the point of turning back now? He's too proud to apologize, especially if it's only to receive rejection and mockery in return.
Apologies never lead to anything good, like friendship without profit.
Eridan comes out of his thoughts when another thud sounds. He tensed up: one of the guys grabbed Karkat by the collar, to pull him before putting him back against the lockers. Harassment then, wonderful. Still some things that concern only the inferior beings: the weak harass the weak, pathetic.
He is about to turn back. Does it really concern him? Karkat and him have nothing to do with each other anymore, Eridan isn't part of their group anymore, he even wonders if he was once part of it.
And yet, when one of the guys brandishes his fist, ready to smash it on Karkat... He is stopped by Eridan, who grabs his wrist violently.
"Do you have nothing better to do, asshole? " Eridan pests, annoyed, looking at the guy who observes him with bewilderment.
The other two guys look equally stunned, while Karkat is speechless, not having anticipated that the only one who intervenes is... is Eridan, the guy his group ended up rejecting.
"What do you want Ampora?!" spits the guy as he pulls free from his grip, not without looking feverish.
Eridan holds back a smile. He recognizes this attitude, that of someone whose relatives work for his father.
"I'm sure my progenitor will be pleased that I'm talking to him about scum like you."
The three types are petrified, their features harden, they tighten the fists, but take the escape without asking the rest. Eridan puts back his glasses, proud to have intimidated them. He exchanges a glance with Karkat, and feels embarrassed by the silence.
" ... Are you alright? You're not hurt?"
Eridan did his best to hide his embarrassment. Karkat blinks and still doesn't seem to realize what just happened:
" ... No, I'm fine... I..."
He hesitates to say 'thank you'. But Eridan doesn't need a thanks, and then he guesses how hard it must be, for someone like Karkat, to thank someone he doesn't like.
"Okay, good."
Eridan turns away and heads for his classroom. But somehow he's satisfied, just hoping those guys won't come back to pick on Karkat.
The morning is devoted to history class, and somehow Eridan is happy about it. He likes this subject, he is very interested in it, and devoting himself to it allows him to forget that no one is sitting near him. The amphitheater is big, of course, but it' s almost ridiculous that there is nobody around him, that the other students are sitting on the opposite side from him. It' s so ridiculous that the teacher doesn't even bother to look in his direction when he explains the lesson, preferring to address as many people as possible rather than the teenager alone in his corner.
Eridan doesn't care, or at least he gives the impression that he does. He keeps his eyes riveted on his notes, which he assiduously takes with one hand, while with the other he taps on his phone, doing some research on the net to find more juicy details about this battle or that historical hero.
When the bell rings, the students rush out of the room, eager to go to lunch. Eridan stays put, takes the time to finish writing, then tidies up. He doesn't intend to go to the cafeteria. What's the point? If he went there a few days ago, it was to accompany Feferi's group. Now that he has been rejected, there is no one to wait for him, to save him a place.
There is no one left to wait for him to come.
A new realization that twists his heart. He imagines the group as enthusiastic as usual, with or without him. In fact, perhaps they are even happier now that the killjoy of service isn't there anymore. He can imagine Vriska pestering him and congratulating Feferi for finally throwing him out.
He removes his glasses, passes a hand on his face. He inhales, swallows what seems to him to be a sob. He does not cry, never, not like that, not for such futile things.
The door of the amphitheater opens, makes him jump, turn around. He immediately tenses up, recognizing Sollux in the frame. Sollux Captor comes from a modest family, too modest. He is of almost the same rank as Karkat, which may explain their proximity. Eridan has heard them refer to each other as 'best friends' before.
" ... Here you are." comments Sollux as he observes him, before moving forward to come and sit next to him, leaving a seat between them.
Eridan thinks he has some nerve, although he refrains from saying it out loud. He and Sollux have never really spoken, and he was one of the first to block him on the network. The worst thing is that he attracts a little too much attention from Feferi... but after all, it doesn't concern Eridan anymore.
Eridan who continues to look at him, watching him take out his computer and a sandwich. He knows that Sollux is passionate about programming, he has already been told, and he has already observed it. But he just doesn't understand why he's coming over there, right now, sitting next to him like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"What?" questions Sollux, who seems annoyed at being observed like this.
Eridan immediately looks away, but realizes his gesture and tries to support again the eyes of the other not to lose face:
"What do you make there? it growls. Aren't you supposed to be in the dining hall with the others?"
Sollux shrugs:
"I was. Then Karkat told us how you helped him against those three guys, and the others got it into their heads to beat them up for revenge. I needed some quiet, so I came here, that's all."
Eridan tensed, felt himself blush, returned his attention to the desk. He hadn't expected Karkat to bring it up, and he suddenly feels uncomfortable. He doesn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, that he is trying to make amends or something... he hasn't fallen that low.
In turn he finally takes out his lunch, and tries to eat as if the other's presence doesn't bother him.
He expects the silence to drag on, but to his surprise it is the other boy who breaks the silence again:
"Feferi looked for you when she arrived.
- ... Sorry?
- She says that she blocked you in her turn, and yet this morning she was looking for you. She's mad at you, but she's worried about you."
Eridan, incredulous, feels himself overcome with anger:
"Don't make fun of me.
- I'm not laughing.
- How could she worry about a guy like me?!"
Sollux looks at him:
"A guy 'like you'?"
Eridan tenses up, forgetting to eat. He can't see the other's pupils behind his tinted glasses, and yet he feels that he is being pierced, that the other is analyzing him.
"I thought 'guys like you' were just the ones to worry about, Sollux insists. Guys like you' are the elite, right? They're above everyone else, they're the center of attention, right? Isn't that what you used to say all the time?"
The reproach is palpable and Eridan swallows. It's true that turning like that is something to be ashamed of. No, in fact, it doesn't matter how it turned out: his behavior was shitty. No wonder everyone turned their backs on him.
Eridan put away his barely started lunch, grabbed his bag and stood up.
"Where do you go?" questions Sollux.
But Eridan doesn't answer him, leaves the amphitheater without having pronounced a word more.
He feels stupid. Stupid and naive. Eridan stares at the screen, as if he hadn't done it enough already, as if he didn't care about burning his retina.
That's all he found to do: isolate himself. Again. Reread his conversations. Again.
He rereads each one, and each time he has the sensation of rediscovering them, this sensation of discovering HIM. He didn't remember being so disrespectful, so insulting. He didn't remember putting others down so many times. And most importantly, he didn't remember others reacting so little.
In the sense that he hadn't hurt them in return. Not as much as they could have.
Maybe that's why Eridan didn't notice his behavior right away: because no one really noticed him. And it took 11 people to block him, and for them to re-read their discussions, to get the full truth in their faces: he was unbearable.
How had Feferi managed to put up with him for so many years? This lady was a saint, for not having abandoned her earlier. Or was she a cruel one, for letting her hope for a beautiful friendship, before finally turning her back. Maybe, yes maybe, if she had let him down earlier, he would have thought of changing his attitude many years before?
But Eridan rejected the idea. He was at fault, not Feferi. No, she had nothing to blame herself for, except perhaps the fact that she had wasted time with a jerk like him.
And like every time he thinks about her, about himself, about them and their catastrophic relationship, he feels the emotion quenching his chest, the salty beads burning his eyes. But he inhales, he represses, he swallows a meager sob.
Because Eridan Ampora doesn't cry. Never.
When he arrives at the university the next day, he isn't quite sure he's as upright as usual. He tries to remain dignified, proud, despite the stares that continue to weigh on him, the tongues that he hears loosen.
That's it, the rumors start, people know. They know that the group has rejected him, or at least they suspect it. "You realize, he wasn't with them at the break yesterday! I heard Feferi was devastated, my god even she finally broke down!"
Eridan is biting his tongue, hard, hard enough to make himself bleed. He ignores the taste, very light, metallic, which gains his palate. He remains impassive, as impassive as possible, and this in spite of the heaviness of his legs, of his shoulders.
He arrives at his locker, holds his breath: Karkat waits for him there, or at least he thinks he waits for him. And he quickly gets his answer when the other boy - shorter than him by several inches - glances at him and blushes, breaking away from the lockers and waiting for him to reach his height.
"...Hi..." murmurs Karkat, and Eridan is pretty sure he's never seen him so embarrassed, at least not to his face.
He nervously puts his glasses back on, guesses that he won't manage to remain unmoved in front of him - to believe that this scholar has a strange influence on his behavior.
" ... Hi. he finally answers.
- ... Listen, don't think that you saved my ass or that I have a debt or something, understand? I'm talking about yesterday, I mean ...
- ... Yeah. I mean, I don't expect any favors in return, or even gratitude.
- Well, you better not! Because I didn't need you, I was doing fine, so don't go imagining things or anything! But you were there, you acted, so there you go, the thing is...I... "
Karkat looks away, hopping from one foot to the other anxiously, uneasily, fidgeting with his fingers as the red slowly spreads to his face. He speaks, more hastily than he would have liked:
"ThankYouForYesterdayItWasCool..."
His gibberish almost tears a laugh from Eridan, who however doesn't have the shadow of a smile so much he is surprised. No, he didn't expect the other to come back to him to thank him. He remains blissful, and he curses himself by realizing that his face burns him, that he is probably as red as Karkat. This one noticed it besides, since he ended up looking at him again and offers him a look as surprised as his.
"...It's nothing, I wanted... I'm glad I could help you."
And he means it sincerely, despite his embarrassment, despite his shame. The only thing that keeps him from dying of embarrassment is the fact that Karkat shares that intense feeling of embarrassment.
Fortunately, they are saved by the bell that pulls them out of this disastrous situation, forcing them to separate to go to class.