Oh boy, it's 2022, happy new year, I hope you're all well and that this year treats you better. I have had two chunks of this chapter done for a while, and just felt the need to write today, and actually managed to finish it.

This one's half flashback, but I'm always so excited because every new chapter comes with more new stuff and more breadcrumbs for more rewritey stuff, and I wish we were further along! D8

For visual and auditory reference, flashbacks and dreams start with *-.-* and end with .-*-.

Thank you so much for the comments, I'm honoured, and always flap at them because you're all so kind! 3 I hope you enjoy this one!

*-.-*

At the grand age of fourteen years old, Alternia High School was the first public school Eridan had ever been inside.
He stomped through the unfamiliar hallways, turning his nose up at the childish displays on the walls either side of him; the ones at The Academy of Beforus put them to absolute shame, but if that was the best his old school could offer him, then he was glad to be rid of it.
It had become nothing but a cemetery of laughter since his best friend and step-sister Feferi had left it's halls.

The reasons she had given for transferring away from the grand social standing they had accumulated through middle school together hadn't made sense to Eridan, and the feeling of betrayal stayed between them for a little while after she was gone; once Eridan was alone, he started to lose himself in the enforced social standards of his other wealthy peers, and even Feferi began to look at him like a stranger. She forced him to realise just how little the people around him treated him like a friend, and that it was making him miserable.
It hadn't been long before he had made the same demands of his father as she'd made of her mother, and now he was supposedly going to be blown away by how genuine these new friendships would be.

Eridan glanced around, making note of a large set of double doors that went outside, and continued down a hallway with the ugliest carpet he'd ever seen in his damn life, hoping it would take him to the ICT suite.

His family was new money, a fortune built by his father's dedication to hard work and meticulous standards, and as his son, Eridan was expected to follow an academic path that had been set out for him for the past decade, so Oscar Ampora was in no way pleased when Eridan had upturned that apple cart. But, there had been a single saving grace.
Eridan had an older brother, the first born, ye ol' golden child himself.
It had been easy to slip through the cracks of his father's attention, even with the constant competition for recognition between them, no matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to fall short for the crime of being born second.

Eridan stared at his reflection in the plastic cover of the display next to him; he pushed the thoughts down into the deepest part of himself, the deep abyss that held every feeling he couldn't deal with.

The first day at a new school was not going to be the place he was going to deal with that.

One thing he absolutely couldn't deal with was that The Academy of Beforus had uniforms of the most beautiful shade of deep plum, with crisp white shirts and an optional lilac gingham dress in the summer, whereas at Alternia everything was just a dull drab blue. The only saving grace was that thankfully, both wore blazers, although, they were rather poorly sized and fitted, but Eridan had to wonder what kind of designer would want to work with a public school.
There was hardly anything to be acting smug about though, not when he was now a student there himself.
Eridan sighed, the weight of the world on his shoddily tailored shoulders.
The corridors had looked the same for a while now, and Eridan turned a corner hoping for the best, stopping at only every-other display to check that the newly-dyed purple part of his hair was still in it's perfect positioning; he smiled at himself, proud to have negotiated himself something so aesthetic from his father, and knowing that there was a doctor's note in his pocket to explain it to the teachers until they got used to it's presence. It happened every time he joined a school, there were always accusations of bleaching, it eventually became easier to take it everywhere.
It was strange not to have the bright white there, but it finally felt right.

Then suddenly, the room he'd been searching for was in front of him.

Eridan hesitated.

This was about to be his first impression, and it had to be perfect.
His father had always put so much emphasis on them, how they'd be the thing that people remember most about him, how they were yet another thing that was the 'only thing that mattered'.
It was enough to make him sick, and as Eridan watched his reflection primp anxiously, he thought on past advice of commanding a room, strong handshakes, and the crushing need to be absolutely perfect for an entire room of strangers, when all he wanted was just be liked for once.

And suddenly it was too much, and he needed a moment, and he turned on his heel to get the hell out of there before he did something rash that might mess his hair up. Eridan had barely gone a step when he collided with something solid, and his glasses clattered as they hit the ground near his feet, "oh for fucks sake, are you all thick 'round here?"
Dropping to his knees to find them, Eridan was incensed to hear a boy above him speak.

"Me? You're the one flying around corners not even looking where you're going!"

Eridan puffed up, and slapped his glasses on, finally getting a good look at his looming assailant, "then you should do better to av-void other people, instead a' stormin' straight into them w-while they're blatantly distracted."
His father's words scolded him, Don't show weakness. It will only ever be used against you.

"You're in denial, mate." The boy was tall, with a long nose and choppy brown hair, and appeared to be more interested in looking at the floor.

Without warning, he dropped next to Eridan, and reached for his hand.

In that moment the thunderous storm Eridan had grown accustomed to living through was struck into silence; waves calmed, clouds parted, and his heart felt as though it was truly beating for the first time in his life as something settled deep in his chest. Eridan's face came alive with a deep blush; he was almost nose-to-nose with a boy who's good looks were nearly lost in his awkwardness, but beneath a messy fringe were the most stunning eyes he'd ever seen; one was a rich brown and the other an oceanic blue, and as he became lost in them, his heart pounded with a ferocity that felt like the beginning and the end of everything as his life crashed to a halt around him.

"What are you looking at?"

Coming to his senses, Eridan shook away the imagined future of himself and the stranger in front of him, and realised that he'd been staring, and that the boy's hand was still so close to his own. In a sudden rush of desperate confused denial, Eridan pushed him away, hard, as though hoping the secret fantasies would fall away with him.

The scrawny boy landed on his ass, and glared at him, "what's your problem?"

Eridan's heart was hammering in his chest like he'd run a marathon, and he clenched his hands into fists as he scrambled to his feet, to stand over the other, "my problem? W-what's your fuckin' problem? You don't just go stickin' your face w-where it doesn't belong!"

"It belongs wherever I say it does." The stranger replaced his own glasses, the dark frames hiding his abnormally beautiful eyes, and stood.

He was so tall.

Eridan blinked up at him, wanting to fall against him, as though that would somehow pull the broken pieces of his life into some semblance of his future.

"What are you looking at now?" He asked, still mad, "Are you trying to start something?"

He had a lisp too, Eridan noted, trying not to think too hard about his tongue, "w-were those real?" The question had already slipped past his lips before he could stop himself, "Your eyes, I mean."

The boy frowned, deep furrows creasing his pale forehead, "why do you care? What are you, gay?"

"No." A horrified whisper, but deep down, Eridan felt something sink through him like a stone in a pond; so many questions had gone answered with excuses, but now, a name had been given that fit without needing to be hammered into place, and Eridan's stomach churned as waves after wave of realisation hit. His father had always claimed he was just a late bloomer, that he'd be interested in girls when he was older, but as Eridan tried his best to hold his world together with a clumsy denial hard-grown into his very foundations, his heart broke; he'd had crushes before, simple twitterpations that made him crave specific attentions, but they felt like mere leaves in the breeze compared to the burning need he felt just to be seen by this person in particular, this boy, and while he was overtaken by the horror of trying to imagine telling his family that his brother's joking had been right all along, Eridan was hit with the double whammy of realising the subject of said misplaced affections seemed to absolutely detest his very being anyway.

"Then stop being so weird and asking questions like that." The boy seemed so offended by something so small, but he wasn't messing around.

Eridan made his decision at the crossroads; apologise and pursue a fruitless life of rejection, or reject his feelings, kill the distraction, and feed it to the void. His father always taught him that Ampora's Don't Apologise, so, "w-what kind a' shit show-w did you craw-wl out of to get such a poor fuckin' attitude to a simple question?

"Yeah, the same shitshow you dumped on me when I was just trying to walk, shit-heel." The tall boy jabbed Eridan in the chest with a finger threateningly, and took a step towards him, "Do you have a problem with me, emo boy?"

Eridan gasped, offended, bringing a hand up to his purple chunk of hair, "I'm not an emo, it's natural!"

The boy laughed, a high nasal cackle, "sure, and I totally believe you're not gay."

Denial erupted out of Eridan in a furious swing, and his fist silenced the laughter.
The reaction was immediate, they collided with each other, and began fighting like it was the answer to everything.

"SOLLUX CAPTOR." A voice rang out, and they both looked up to the now-open doorway; their teacher was stood over them, and the closest students peeked from behind him, "And I can only assume you're Eridan Ampora, what the hell do the pair of you think you're doing outside my room?"

The pair separated, and Eridan immediately brushed himself off and ran his fingers over his gelled hair, trying to fix the damage before too many first impressions were somehow ruined more than they were already. He jumped when he saw the man's expression.

"I don't know how they did things over at Beforus, Mr. Ampora, but we don't just go getting into fights in the corridors like wild animals here," their teacher stared at them, ignoring the giggle that rippled through the classroom as more students appeared behind him, "what a shame you've already ruined your first day here. Go to the Head's office. Both of you."

"He can find his own way there." Sollux muttered as he picked up his backpack, and slunk off down the hallway without another word.

Eridan watched him go as he wished the bittersweet fantasies his heart had tried to tuck away for later goodbye. Enemies would suit them better, it was safer.

"Oh! Oh! I'll take him! Me!" Behind their teacher, Feferi bounced and held her arm like she was waiting to answer a question, "Mr. Murphy, come on, you know I'll get him there!"

"Miss Peixes, you need to be sat back at your desk by the time I turn round or you'll lose your lunch time. I'm not having you disappear for my entire lesson, and half your next class because you won't stop gossiping." Mr Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed as Feferi tried to bargain with the back of his head, "Karkat, take him to the office."

A boy who seemed a little too short for a teenager slammed his fists on his desk, "EVERY GODDAMN TIME!" Karkat grabbed his bag, and glared at Eridan with a fresh fury as he moved to his side, "Pay attention and learn the layout now, I'm not taking you there again."

They'd talked about the fight, and then quickly got on the subject of movies, and discovered that they shared a taste belittled by many. By the time they'd gotten to the office, Eridan had considered Karkat his first friend.

One thing rang true though; the first impression that he'd left on Sollux had proven permanent, and no matter who tried to mend the wounds between them, their rivalry remained the most bitter of feuds.

And yet, there had been one time—

.-*-.

The phone beside his head demanded his attention, and forcibly dragged Eridan from his dream; the ringtone made his stomach sink, it could only mean one person.

"Good morning, Father." Eridan sighed as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"It's seven fifteen, Eridan, isn't it a little late to still be sleeping?" Oscar Ampora's voice was curt and thick with disapproval, "I would have hoped you'd have kept up at least some good habits after moving out, but I can see you've let yourself grow soft. You will be expected to hold yourself to a better standard when you work for me, you know."

Eridan bit into his thick quilt, and pulled the frustration out of it before throwing his legs out of bed and standing; there was no use trying to stay sleepy, he'd only be forced to start his day with a lecture otherwise, "I don't work for you yet." He said carefully.

"You know how time is, Boy, it's so easy to lose track of, and before you know it, you'll need to be up to my standards." Oscar let the point sit for a moment, before he sighed, somehow sounding annoyed already, "Have you looked through the numbers yet? You should know how important punctuality is by now, it's poor form to leave your father, and your boss, waiting."

"I still don't work for you yet!" It was quickly becoming difficult to keep his attitude leashed after being woken up so early, and Eridan tried to breathe it out; hell would freeze over before his father actually listened to what he was saying, "Father, it's my day off."

"You said that yesterday."

"Yes!" Eridan said, stomping down the stairs, "That's how weekends work!"
He made his way to the kitchen, and swung open the fridge, deciding that if he was going to be forced into the world of the living so bloody early, the least he could do was enjoy a hot chocolate.

Oscar didn't seem impressed; somehow his frowns seemed to have their own tone of voice, "Eridan," the warning was already clear, "I don't like hearing you talk like a smart arse."

"I'm not—" there was no use in arguing. He never listened anyway. "You do remember that I'm doin' you a favour here, you wanted the Makara accounts done by Wednesday an' like I told you yesterday, I'm doin' them Monday, I put aside the whole day for it."
Just saying that felt like an admission of defeat, but it wasn't like Eridan had any plans for his Monday now that his entire sanctuary had befallen the curse of Sollux Captor.

Eridan sighed, beautiful eyes plagued him, and made him second guess his decision to abandon his holdfast, but it was nothing short of delusion that tried to convince him that Sollux could ever be happy to see him.
He'd just make his life as miserable hell as he always did.

Completely unaware of the inner turmoil plaguing his son, Oscar scoffed, "Why leave them until the last minute? You could get them done today, send them to Mr. Makara early, and earn yourself some good standing with one of mine and your mother's business partners."

It was too early to be dealing with that can of worms.

Eridan sighed, and put the milk back in the fridge before slamming the door, silently deciding that the argument just wouldn't be worth it, "Father." He said, returning to watch the blue fish-adorned mug spin slowly in the microwave, "why don't we talk about this at lunchtime instead, I'm sure you have things you'd rather be doin'."

"The only thing I want to do is make sure that my sons develop a proper work ethic and respect the fact that they'll need to work hard to prove themselves worthy of the Ampora name." His father's voice was smooth, "If you can't be bothered to run the numbers, I can always pass it over to one of our accountants and tell them to put the important work I've already given them on hold for you. I just thought that you'd appreciate the chance to get your foot in a door with another powerful man from whom a favour from, would be a promising boon."

Beneath the grandiosity and hidden by pride, the implication was subtle, but Eridan's ears picked it up like a dog whistle, criticisms hidden behind normality. Unworthy. Lazy. Ungrateful. He watched the last few seconds count down on the microwave, then pulled his drink out before it could beep at him, "I was told to get them done by Wednesday, I've put aside a whole day to do them tomorrow, I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem is that you're not taking the initiative, Boy."

"What initiative?" Eridan stirred sugar and chocolate powder into the hot milk, "one more day really isn't goin' to make a single bit a' difference."
He made his way to the lounge, wondering if he should have put the heating on now that he was sat in the quiet of a cold room. Pulling a fluffy purple blanket over his lap, Eridan settled down on his sofa; once he was comfortable, he took a sip of his sweet drink, and sighed as his father held onto the point like a pitbull on a steak.

"A day that you waste sitting around doing nothing is a day that someone else could be bettering themselves, and getting ahead of you. Eridan. You need to start considering the fact I'm not going to let you ride on my coattails forever, you need to make a name for yourself in the real world, in my world. Not this, artsy little fantasy world you seem to spend all your time in," Oscar berated him, "do you even care how many opportunities I've given you? Do you realise how much a freelancer would appreciate being thrown an account this illustrious?"

"Do you realise how much a freelancer would charge for doin' a job like this, with you tryin' to rush on an agreed timeframe, especially on a weekend?" Eridan snapped back, hating how the criticism continued to taste. He lounged back onto the plush pillows behind him, knowing that there was little chance of his father treating him like an actual industry professional; he'd never done so before, no matter Eridan's arguments that he deserved that level of respect.
Apparently, money was the only way to be heard, and it frustrated him to no end that he had to play that game again, "you'd get a bill so large it would make your head spin, an' you'd never even consider doin' a favour for a business partner again."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true." Oscar said, "but consider it done, bill me for the expenses at your leisure, but I expect the report by five o'clock sharp."

Eridan sat upright, the whole conversation had taken such a sharp turn that he felt whiplashed, "wait, hang on, I wasn't agreein' to do it, I was bein' rhetorical, Father! I'm not—"

The call ended in his hand, silencing all arguments to the contrary.

As his hot chocolate steamed on the table in front of him, Eridan glowered to himself, willing the mug to shatter with just the strength of his frustration; his father pulled this kind of thing all the time, twisting conversations into whatever he wanted the outcome to be and accepting nothing else.

With so much paperwork now being such a pressing matter, Eridan got up to find the folder he needed, and tried to ignore the sting.

Just for this, Eridan decided, the bill was going to include enough to buy himself something he'd wanted for a long time.