Chapter 4: "I've just seen a face" ~The Beatles
Falling, yes I am falling
And she keeps calling
Me back again
Lukas couldn't believe this. Actually, he could, because he never had the best of luck, but still. He didn't want a roommate. He wanted to wait until semester, at least. He had received an email that the roommate would be moving in over the weekend from another dormitory.
He was still thankful that they wouldn't actually be sharing bedrooms. He took Teeny Weeny out of his cage and kissed his ear, muttering, "Not just going to be us anymore."
He hoped it wouldn't be some jerk like he met at the party he'd went to last week. But then again, it was a fraternity. Lukas refilled the bunny's water, then put him back. He'd been keeping the cage in the closet. He actually gave it a false front for dorm checks. They never looked in his closet, but still. Just in case they every did, he had purchased an array of cheap books and chopped off the spines.
On one hand, he hated destroying the books. But then again, when he glued the book spines all to a board he'd bought at the book store, it looked like a book shelf. He then had to just prop the board flush against the cage, and that was it. As long as nobody ever tried to remove one of the so called "books", he would be fine.
And as long as his new roommate wasn't nosey.
Mathias looked through Lukas' Instagram for probably the fourth time, careful not to "like" anything as he scrolled past a picture of Lukas kissing a grey rabbit. There was one of Emil on his first day of eighth grade. Then of Emil outside of the white house on what looked like a field trip. The very first picture ever posted was of a snowy front yard. It was just captioned, "Snow!" with a little snowflake next to it.
The second was Lukas in a graduation gown holding a diploma. There was only about fifty pictures in total. If even that. None of the pictures had more than four likes. That figured, considering he only had nineteen followers, himself included.
He clicked the message app at the bottom, finding Lukas' contact. He had given his number up at dinner near the end of it.
Mathias shot him a text saying, "Do you want to hang out right now? If you're up for it, it'd be cool to practice with you."
It took a few minutes, but he got a text back.
Practice what?
"Music?" He sent back. The response was a lot quicker this time.
Okay. Where?
Mathias punched in the address of the house and sent it. He took out his cello already, then stopped and looked in the bathroom mirror, fixing his hair. He then finished the beer on his dresser and tossed it in the trash, rinsing his mouth out with water so he could look somewhat put together.
"Oh, God," Lukas muttered, throwing on some clothes and actually looking in the mirror to fix his hair clip and his bangs. He grabbed his violin from under his bed and ran out, surely looking rough. When he arrived at the right address, his eyes widened.
SAE.
This was where he had gone for the party. Where he'd spilled a drink on some girl. Luckily, the house was calm. There was no party tonight. He walked up to the door, not bothering to knock because someone opened the door already. He was blond with glasses. He was only wearing swimming trunks for some reason. Lukas was sure that he'd seen him at the party.
"Hey, bro," he said, shaking Lukas' hand and pulling him inside. There were three men sitting on the couch. One was playing video games and the other two were typing on their laptops. None of them were Mathias.
"Mathias told me about how he knew you, Lukas. It's Lukas, right?"
He nodded, then looked at the staircase. "Where is he?"
"His room is the second to the left."
He started to go up, but stopped and said, "Thanks. What's your name?"
"Ah, shit. Sorry, dude. It's Alfred."
Lukas tried to remember the name as he continued upstairs. He knocked lightly on Mathias' door. "Mathias. It's me."
"Come in!"
He pushed the door open, seeing Mathias adjusting the strings on his cello. He knew a lot about instruments, and this one was nice. Then again, Mathias seemed to be serious about his music.
"Frat boy?" Lukas remarked, looking around the room and examining the sheets of music pinned to his wall along with a few sports posters. Mathias chuckled with an apologetic shrug.
"Yeah! Frat boy. It's not bad, I promise. I actually have to volunteer at different organizations to stick around. I'm not going around slipping roofies in drinks, you know."
Lukas shook his head quickly, regretting his comment. "I didn't mean it that—"
"Don't worry about it. The stereotypes are pretty fucking justified. Just can't live up to them. Are you going to get your violin out?" He plucked a few strings, listening closely before taking out a tuner and flipping it on. He played a note, watching the meter on the tuner. "Ah, dammit. So close," he murmured with a breathy laugh.
Lukas relaxed quite a bit and sat at Mathias' desk, taking his violin out and tuning it. He hadn't played in a few weeks because he'd been preparing for school. He was ready, though. He thought he was, at least, until he heard Mathias warming up.
Even the warm-up he did sounded excellent. If Lukas' father would have been there, he would have been all over Mathias with advice and questions, fawning over his talent and probably trying to convince him to go to the university he taught at.
"You sound good, Mathias. Did you take lessons?"
He grinned and opened a music book. "I did. I wish I could say it's all natural talent that just flows out of me, but I worked pretty hard."
Lukas warmed up as well, though he wasn't as good as Mathias was. He hadn't focused on his music in years. Even when his father had tried to teach him something new, he wasn't up for it. That had been in the past three or four years. Now, as he watched Mathias play through a sonata with ease, he wished he would have taken his father up on those offers.
"Your work really paid off. I'm impressed," he said once Mathias looked over at him again. This time, he just nodded and gestured Lukas over.
"Do you want to try a duet? I don't work on those a lot but working with someone else is always good," he said, pointing to a few sheets for Lukas. The notes were splattered everywhere. He didn't want to admit to Mathias that he didn't even think that he could play it.
"Well, I'll try," he nearly whispered. Mathias looked at his expression and said, "It says allegro, but I say fuck it. Fuck this Handel guy. He's dead and I'm alive and I say you can play at whatever speed you want."
Lukas let a smile show by accident and pursed his lips in rebuttal. "Thank you. I will."
With that, he began playing at a moderate speed, which even then was too fast for him. He'd never been good at sight-reading, but he would try anyways. Mathias was playing along really well. Even when Lukas played the wrong notes, which he was starting to do often because his nerves caused him to speed, Mathias sounded just right.
He glanced down at him, surprised when he was actually looking at the wall and not at the music. He suddenly stopped playing, which finally brought the others eyes up. "Huh? Why'd you stop?"
"You weren't looking at the music."
Mathias laughed, putting down his bow. "I didn't need to."
"You know it?"
"No. But I could hear what you were playing and I could match it with something. But you also weren't playing the right notes, so we're both wrong, huh?"
Lukas suddenly shoved Mathias' shoulder, more playfully than genuinely irritated. He stared at him once he'd realized what he'd done. "I didn't mean to do that, oh, God. I was out of place."
"No, no, no! It's okay! It really is," he said, rolling up his sleeve. "See? It's perfectly…" He paused, staring at Lukas with wide eyes. "Lukas…"
He swallowed thickly, looking up at the door. "I'm really, really sorry. Oh, God."
"Lukas, I think my arm is broken."
Lukas suddenly glared at him, his eyes narrowing as he reached over and shoved him even harder. Mathias just laughed, more amused than upset by any of this.
"You ass!"
Mathias' laughter stifled and he made a fake sad expression. "Shit. I've never been called that before."
Lukas grumbled and flipped through a book of duets on Mathias' bed. "Stop. I came here to practice and we're going to practice."
"Whatever you say, Lukas. Whatever you say."
All Mathias could hear was light breaths in his ear. Sometimes her arms would move. Never to wrap around him or touch him. They would lay limp beside her head or flung out to the side. Sometimes she would shift her legs, stretching them out to get more comfortable.
There was no kissing. That was a rule she'd stated early on. No kissing during sex. It turned her off, she'd said. That was okay with Mathias, too. He kept his face buried in her neck, as he hated this position and didn't care to look at her while he fucked her. But with his face in her neck, despite the disgustingly sweet perfume wafting off of her flesh, she was whoever he wanted her to be.
He had never let another name slip from his lips when he came, either. He was careful. He would normally bite into her neck, a reminder of sorts to not say something he would regret. He could always taste the perfume. It was bitter and stayed in his mouth for longer than he'd liked it to.
Tonight, her hair was sticking to her damp neck and he had to brush it away twice. He brushed it to the other side of her neck completely. He didn't want to feel it. He almost didn't want to hear her breaths anymore by the end of it, either. But his imagination was louder than her breaths, and it didn't take much to finish besides something tight, hot, and wet.
He never knew if she finished. He'd stopped caring. He pulled out, got up, got dressed, and left. He did mutter a quiet, "Have a good night," but that was all. What more was there to say to someone you kept around to fuck?
It hadn't always been that way. For the first four months, he didn't mind how cool she was. Or cynical. Or bland. He couldn't understand how he'd done it, but he had looked past those traits and seen smooth skin, a tight body, and a snarky but endearing personality that he was sure he could get used to.
Never had he been so wrong. He was in too deep, now. He'd tried to leave her at the end of July, but she had refused. She sent text after text his way, her cold exterior melting into one that revealed warmth and care. He felt guilty and decided to rekindle the dying relationship.
Within two weeks, things were back to the way they'd always been. There was no warmth. No care. No reason to stay besides sex and an easier semester. Breaking it off with her now, he knew, was like damning himself. She would break down and he would have to pick up the pieces. He didn't need something so stressful now. He needed to wait until the season was up.
He walked back into his house, seeing Alfred at the kitchen table with a bag of McDonalds. He plopped down in the chair next to him, not even commenting on the fast food like he normally would.
Alfred took a sip of his soda and offered Mathias his fries, which he reluctantly took. At that point, Alfred knew something was wrong. "What is it? Natalya or—"
"Spot on," he said as he shoved the fries into his mouth. "I just can't do it anymore, man. I can't. The sex is starting to turn to shit and I don't know what to do."
"Don't you have to leave in a couple hours, bro?"
Mathias rubbed his forehead sleepily and nodded. "Yeah. We're going up to Pittsburg. But I'm so fucking stressed."
"Well, you should dump her, bro."
"Do you remember how she acted? She's insane! She's going to come over here and try to get in and you guys are going to have to back me."
Alfred shoved two chicken nuggets into his mouth, washing them down with a gulp of soda before belching loudly. "Shit, dude. You're making this too complicated. I got your back. If a crazy bitch wants to come in, we won't let her. Simple as that. Now go get your shit together for Pittsburg, bro! You're going to kick ass!"
Mathias shook his head and finally smiled, patting Alfred on the back as he made his way to the stairs. "Thanks, man. I'll see you Sunday night."
