Chapter 2: "Love Will Tear Us Apart" ~Joy Division
When routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And resentment rides high
But emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways, taking different roads
Then love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
The first week passed by quickly. Lukas had homework already that he had diligently been working on. It was Friday night, though. Everyone was out either partying or at the soccer game. He'd thought about going, but didn't like sports and knew he'd be too shy to make friends either way.
One thing he knew about was a party that was being thrown after the soccer game. He knew this because the same girl who had been discussing a frat party on Tuesday in class had been discussing the one coming up tonight.
"Are you going? You shouldn't, honestly," someone said to the girl. Lukas always knew when the other was talking because her accent was thick and her voice always made her sound angry. He had no idea what she looked like yet. He just heard her, but had never been able to point her out in class.
"It isn't my fault if Matt wants to be a dick, honestly. I should be able to go to any party I want. It's not like he owns me or something."
"But it's his fraternity," someone replied. Lukas could hear her scoff loudly and laugh, then say, "Okay, well if he wants to get any tonight, he won't pull what he pulled on Tuesday."
With that, the class was dismissed and Lukas was again unable to see the girl. But now he had the information about a party on Friday night. Not like he was going to do anything about it. He was just in his room, at his desk, working on something for a design class. He could only hear the keys clicking and he felt so alone all of a sudden.
He shook the feeling off. Tried to, at least. He heard someone laughing from his open window. Someone else laughed, too. Friends. He got up and slammed the window shut, huffing as he returned to his chair, spinning in it as he contemplated his next move.
He could always go. He would just have to stand up and walk over there. If he wanted to leave, he could leave. It was just a matter of will.
He stood up and raked his fingers through his hair, adjusting his pin and sliding some clean jeans and a shirt on. He didn't look in the mirror. He hadn't cared about his looks for a while. It wasn't like he was trying to attract anyone.
Going. I'm going.
He took a shaky breath and slapped a hand to his forehead. He suddenly felt like his head was spinning and he sat down for a moment, taking a deep breath.
No. I said I was going and I'm going.
Again he stood, putting his shoes on this time. He took controlled breaths, far too nervous about something so small. He almost considered taking Teeny Weeny with him. He was a good sized rabbit, but he could fit in a hoodie.
No. They'll think you're weird, he thought.
He sort of nodded at the bunny, then left before he could convince himself to stay.
Mathias wiped a thick layer of sweat off of his forehead and climbed up into the bleachers with a wide, cheerful grin. The crowd was cheering and patting him on the back. He was used to it all. He saw Natalya and tried to pull her closer, but she just shook her head with a raised eyebrow and gestured at how sweaty he was. "No. Clean up first, Mat."
He just looked at her for a second before turning back to the crowd, letting a few girls hug him and one take a selfie with him that he wasn't sure about. Either way, the attention felt alright. He definitely wasn't going to deny it.
"Hey, man! You ready for the after party?" He asked Alfred, who was laughing and pulling him into a quick hug.
"Yeah! I'm so fucking pumped. You guys practically raped 'em. Come on, bro." Alfred had already put his arm around Mathias' neck, but the other just removed it with a grin and walked towards the locker room to change and put his equipment away.
Once he arrived to the party, it was in full swing. The entire team was slowly arriving and everyone was in a good mood from the victory. Mathias looked for Natalya, but didn't see her anywhere and went into the kitchen, watching as Alfred sloppily poured him a few shots.
"Hey, you see Natalya?"
Alfred looked around, taking off his glasses for a moment. "No, dude. I saw her earlier. She's around here somewhere."
Mathias gave a small shrug, then downed two of the shots, almost coughing at the burn. He hadn't done shots in a while and Alfred could tell and was laughing at him. "You're acting like such a pussy! Can't hold your liquor?"
The other just shot him a look and grabbed the bottle, drinking straight from it for a good four gulps before slamming it down and looking back at everyone at the party. "Fuck you, Alfred," he spat out with a cocky grin. He closed his eyes for a second and wiped the sweat off of his neck, then made the rounds to talk to different people.
Lukas wasn't used to this at all. He didn't even want to go inside. But he had walked over and he didn't want to turn back quite yet. He was pretty sure he was shivering because he was so nervous, but there was no way he was going to let anyone that.
He stepped up to the door, opening it and walking in. The first thing he noticed was the scent. All he could smell was liquor, cologne, and something that reminded him of fresh paint. He walked in further, not sure of what to do. He didn't drink, so what was the point? He didn't smoke either. He felt so terribly out of place and decided to just people watch for a moment.
His mother would have called this some kind of weird adventure. "It's a new experience!" He let out a quiet sigh and looked to the kitchen, just to see what was in that room. He could see some guy with glasses on and another in front of him, although he was turned and Lukas couldn't see his face at all, just his soccer jersey. His number was five.
Lukas looked away. There was a man rubbing a woman's thigh and it was making him a lot uncomfortable. They were on the wall next to him and he was on the move yet again, trying to escape all kinds of people now.
He walked closer to the kitchen where there seemed to be less people. He continued to watch how everyone interacted until he felt alone again. He figured twenty minutes was plenty of time to be somewhere like this. He turned to go, but ran right into a man, who in turn spilled his drink on a girl he had been chatting with. Lukas' eyes widened and he muttered a quick, "I'm sorry."
The man gave him a dirty look and said, "Be more careful. Goddamn. Who the hell are you, anyways?"
Lukas swallowed hard and said, "I'm, uh…"
"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you, anyways?"
Lukas looked desperately at the door, not wanting any sort of confrontation. He just held up his hands and started to back away, but by backing away, he ran into someone else. He tried to turn around but there was a hand on his shoulder and he stayed in place.
"Why are you actin' like such a fuckin' prick? Is it to make up for your lack thereof, dumbshit?"
At first, Lukas thought the man behind him was speaking to him, but the other started arguing back. "Shit, man. Hey, I'm just trying to stand up for Amy. I don't think this guy even goes here. Just think he was looking for a good time."
"So?"
"Come on, man. We don't even know who this guy is. Could be an asshole."
"Well, yeah, guess 'e could be. But you for SURE are an' we still let ya in, don' we?"
The man just shrugged and mumbled something under his breath. The girl he was with grabbed ahold of his arm and glared at Lukas and whoever was standing behind him, then dragged off the man, much to Lukas' relief. "Thanks," he said quietly, shrugging the hand off his shoulder and moving towards the door.
"Wait! What's yer name, huh?"
Lukas froze in place, then turned around just slightly, still not looking at the man. "Lukas," he said. With that, he left without another word.
Alfred walked over to Mathias, who was staring at the door still. "Who was that, bro? What happened just now?"
Mathias smirked and shook his head. "I don' know, Alfred. Some guy. I think he said his name was Lewis or somethin'. Some dick was treatin' him bad. Think he spilled a drink on his girlfriend. But still. 'S jus' a drink."
"I've never seen that guy either, though. The one you were standing up for."
"Freshman?"
"Seems like it."
Mathias leaned against the counter, shrugging. "Didn't get a good look at 'em, though. Jus' blond hair. Look like he hasn't been in the sun in a while. Gotta ask for a name when I'm sober."
Lukas wrapped himself up in a big blanket and curled up on the bed, swearing under his breath about how awkward that entire thing had been for him. He slid his phone out of his pocket and opened up a game, playing it to take his mind off of the party.
He had the urge to rip his own heart out. He felt so idiotic and out of place. "Dammit!" He let out a frustrated growl and buried his face into his pillow. He had made so many mistakes. Showing up. Running into that man. Backing up into another one. But then again, that one was helpful. He really should have gotten his name. He supposed that was just another thing he messed up on.
He tried to stop thinking about it. He was sure it did no good. But that was his chance at a friend and he blew it.
Or did he? Maybe he could narrow it down to who it was. The voice was deep. He sounded taller than Lukas. Plus, the man in front of him had been looking up at the man behind him, more proof of height. He had sounded drunk, so maybe he partied a lot. Maybe he attended every party at that house. He also had an accent. Well, Lukas thought he did. He was slurring and it was tricky to tell at times.
It seemed either German or Danish. Maybe Polish. Northern Europe for sure. What if he's from Norway? Lukas' eyes brightened at the thought. He hadn't met someone from Norway in a while. That would really be something.
But on the other hand, who said he was a good guy? Yeah, he stood up for Lukas, but there was probably a reason behind it besides simply being a good person. He was probably showing off for some girl.
Maybe it was best that he stayed alone. He had been mostly alone throughout middle school. He had a few acquaintances in high school. He knew absolutely no one at his community college. So why should it be any different here?
You're here for an education. You have time to be social later, he told himself. He had thought for a moment about trying to find the man who had helped him, but now, it seemed absolutely pointless.
Maybe he could make a friend online. Just so that he'd have someone else to share thoughts with at least. That way, he wouldn't have to go out for anything else but classes.
The thought was too good to work. He knew he needed to go out more and he also knew it would make him feel so much better if he did the right things, but he didn't know what those things were. He hated sports. He hated big crowds.
He loved music, though, and he loved art. He was sure there was something he could do with either of those things that was at least semi-social.
"Hello, Lukas! How are you?"
"I'm fine, mama."
"How is school? Have you done anything fun?"
"School is school. And I went out last night. It was… interesting."
There was a pause, then his mother said, "You're sure you're going out? It's important to be social and I know how you are! Is there any romance brewing?"
"There never is. You know that."
She laughed and said, "I know, I know. I'm only teasing! Make good friends. I love you!"
"I love you, too, mama. Tell dad I said hi. And tell Emil to stop posting so many memes on Instagram," he said with a small smile. He could hear his mother laughing on the other end.
"Alright, I'll tell them! Have a good weekend, okay? Bye!"
"You, too, mama. Bye."
With that, he hung up and resumed his position on his bed.
Mathias sunk further into the freezing water, taking deep breaths as he tried to further relax. His head was pounding and he had been wearing sunglasses all day until now, so the lights were burning. He shut them, fidgeting in the water for a moment. The cold was killing him. It normally didn't, but today it felt like hell. When the timer was up, he stood up and grabbed a towel, muttering, "Fuck" over and over again as he dried himself off. He didn't know how much longer he had to stay, but he hoped it wasn't long. He needed to go back to the house and practice his cello. He practiced nearly every day and took orchestra as well.
How could he not? Of course he dedicated himself to soccer because it came so naturally, but he loved music more than that. But music couldn't make him millions of dollars in a heartbeat like soccer could. He didn't have a scout coming to see his "orchestra" matches. People didn't yell his name with grins on their faces while he was raking his finger over a cello.
It was a pleasure that he felt alone. A satisfaction that nobody else was aware of. The ability to create music was soothing. He didn't feel so useless when he was holding a bow and the instrument between his legs. There was no pressure of scoring. No pressure of time running out.
After he got dressed, he put his headphones on and left. When he was finally in his room, he relaxed completely and grabbed his cello, adjusting it and doing a quick warm up before playing slowly, leaning his head down sleepily. His back ached and the conditioning coach would be telling him to sit up, but she wasn't here right now and he just shut his eyes, listening to the vibrations coming from the wooden body in his hold.
He would have liked to stay like that, but instead, he took out his music and ran through it until he could hear everyone in the house complaining.
