Disclaimer, et al: I'm not sure where this one came from, but it won't leave me alone. I don't usually write in first person, so it's a bit experimental in that sense, but I'm having more fun than I have been with writing for a while, so I'm just going to go with it. Zemyx (eventually) because Zemyx eats all of my brain, all of the time. AU, since that seems to be all I'm able to write at the moment. I'm a bit uneasy about this one, but screw it! Here it is!

#01 Demyx 101

It didn't really work out according to The Plan. It wasn't really a concrete plan, and by that I mean I had a little idea of where I was supposed to be going, a tiny map of how I was supposed to get there, and a midget car of motivation to see the whole thing through. I'm telling you right now: when you reach eighteen you're supposed to have had a magical experience that tells you exactly what it is you're supposed to do for the rest of your life. I waited for it. All the way through year seventeen of my life I waited for something to crash land in front of me--I didn't know what it was supposed to look like; maybe it was supposed to be like that giant lottery hand that pokes out of the sky and says it's you--but it didn't happen.

I was starting to feel a bit put out by the whole thing when my teachers said that I needed to choose something fast, otherwise I'd be spending the rest of my life asking people if they wanted fries with that. I'm sorry to say that it didn't really put the fear of god into me. As long as I got to play my sitar when I came home at night, I didn't really mind that I would have to smell flame-grilled. I liked fries. I told my parents and they echoed the same sentiment as the teachers, so I asked them if they'd prefer it if I worked in a health food store. It didn't go down well.

So, there I was, aged eighteen, shoved head first into university life I wasn't sure I wanted. In the beginning it was nice; I got to meet some cool people, and I'm still close to most of them. I chose my main subject, a few weird outside courses and a place to live. For a majority of the time I was too busy to really think about things the way I had when I was in the limbo of seventeen, and I was grateful. There were mixers and pub crawls to go to and societies to join (or, more accurately, crash because we were too bored to study and wanted a free night of junk food and films) and I was quite happy to forget the idea that I wasn't really there by choice.

I stumbled through first year and passed without really having to try. I was lured into false comfort by endless parties and understanding faculty members who really must have been born the day before I offered them my excuses. My parents were pleased that all was well in the land of Demyx's education, but they did worry when I got a full time job over the summer. In a fast food joint. I assured them that I was only working there so I could afford to pay my rent, and Axel wouldn't have to find a crazy temporary flatmate to replace me, so they let it go.

They now blame that summer for everything that happened afterwards, but I really want to tell them that burgers had nothing to do with it.

I'd love to sit down to Christmas dinner and tell them that it was the more wholesome things in life that made me wander off the path they thought was best for me. I'd love to explain to them exactly how everything happened. They'd probably just sigh into their stuffing and give me the spiel, again, about how I was never going to amount to anything and I could have done so much more with my life. I'd probably stab my own stuffing and tell them I was perfectly fine with being nobody.

I guess it all started once second year was in full swing. The parties tailed off, everyone started to apply themselves, and people talked about how they needed to start trying, because that's what they were there for. I sat on the sofa with my sitar on my lap, wondering if I was ever going to get my stupid sign.

The plan, course and motivation were shaky to begin with. I still wasn't sure of anything, but on the morning of my nineteenth birthday, I came up with an idea. It didn't exactly go exactly the way I'd hoped either, but it did work out better than The (half-baked) Plan.

That fateful morning I woke up to the sound of something smashing. I tried to ignore it, because it was probably just Axel employing his 'bang on the digibox until something happens' strategy, and I pulled my blankets around me to ward off the cold. Axel, surprisingly, was a morning person, and had probably been up for hours despite the fact that the hands of my clock were only edging towards eight fifteen.

"Demyx, did you spill juice on the thing again?" Axel said as he strode into my room--without knocking, and no 'Happy Birthday'--and dragged my quilt and blankets away from me.

"What? No!" I tried to grab my quilt without moving from my comfy position, but it was futile.

Axel levelled a shit-eating grin at me, dangling my covers just out of reach. "No I did not spill juice on it, again, or no please give me back my blankie so I can pretend I'm still asleep and not go to classes?"

I sat on my pillows and ruffled my hair a little in embarrassment. "Both?" Axel laughed and piled my covers back on top of me. He threw himself onto the bed.

"You know, I'd fix it myself, but I'm a little busy today," he said, and he wiggled his eyebrows. "Classes to go to, professors to astound."

I heard another crash, louder this time, and it was followed by a muffled curse. Axel looked at me, the picture of innocence. A very familiar voice floated through from the lounge. "God, where are you?"

I couldn't help it. I stared out of my door, jaw practically on the floor, and whispered, "Oh, no way."

Axel flexed his bare feet and said, in a way he would have termed cool as fuck, "Oh, Y-E-S way."

I heard the water running in the kitchen, and someone walking around, and to this day I still don't know how Axel managed to pull the whole thing off. I stared at him, he smiled at me, and I was about to ask for an explanation when Roxas barrelled into the room holding a pair of my jeans. He glared at Axel, and sat the jeans down on the floor.

"Hi Demyx."

"Uh, hey Roxas," was all I could manage. I was trying way too hard not to laugh at the look on Axel's face.

Roxas gave me a nervous smile then turned to Axel and scowled. "You told me you lived alone," he said, and he turned and walked out. He slammed the door so hard that it flew open again.

Axel said, "I think he's warming to me."

I looked at him, incredulous. "What was that even about?"

He sat up and tapped me on the nose. "Well, you might want to avoid using the kitchen table."

I threw a pillow at him.

I'd worked with Roxas over the summer, and that's how he'd met Axel. The fact that Axel and I lived together never came up in conversation was largely due to the fact that Axel spent every moment in Roxas' presence flirting with him and making innuendo about fast food. I didn't really want to know what had happened the night before, and I took Axel's advice about the kitchen table.

After Axel left I tried to go back to sleep, but I was too disturbed by the events of the morning, so I stumbled my way through to the forsaken digibox and banged on it a few times myself. No response, zero TV output. I groaned at the prospect of losing my music channels, and slumped on the sofa. A little piece of paper on the coffee table caught my eye, which is miraculous in itself, regardless of what the scrap of paper led to, since the table was buckling under the weight of beer cans and textbooks.

I sat up and grabbed it, unfolded it, and was assaulted by a collection of fonts spelling out H2WHOA! I was intrigued and a bit amused. I saw Axel's handwriting underneath the title.

Thought you might like this! Got assaulted by one of their groupies in the street. Almost lost an eye. The things I do for your amusement!

I snuggled up on the couch and read the rest of the flyer. It was about time someone organised a swimming society, in my opinion. I'd more or less quit when I finished high school, apart from the occasional trip to the pool. Without the competition it wasn't the same. The flyer gave me the idea to start again though, and maybe the discipline would filter over to the rest of my life, and I'd finally be able to apply myself.

I hoped so. I rested the flyer over my face and tried to take a nap. As always, I found it hard to get to sleep without any background noise, so I laid there, trying not to go cross-eyed from the close newsprint. Eventually I got tired of lying around and dragged myself to the shower, threw on some clothes and took a walk, the flyer in my pocket.

The campus was filled with students by the time I arrived. There was enough time for me to have something to eat before my lecture, so I grabbed a sandwich from the closest shop and sat on the low wall that surrounded the quad. There were a couple of squirrels running around the trees, so I tossed them a piece of my lunch. Apparently crusts freaked them out, and they ran away. A timetable was posted near the lecture theatre door. I had a few minutes left, so I went inside and found myself a seat.

The lecturer was fiddling with the projector, so I figured it was all right to make myself comfortable. I curled my legs underneath me and sat with one hand resting on my cheek to hide the single earphone I had in. I almost missed the announcement that the hour was up, but I managed to hide my surprise that it had gone by so quickly. Apparently the lecture had been fascinating, according to the people passing me as I left the building. I looked at my watch, and I had just enough time to go to the pool to meet the society before the meeting was over, so I shoved my other earphone in and jogged the few blocks to the gym.

It took my a while to find the room they were meeting in, but after two wrong turns and a confusing set of directions from an employee whose muscles looked like they were about to burst out and strangle me, I arrived at the squash court they'd reserved. I have no idea why they chose to hold it there, but I suspect it was so Larxene would have a legitimate reason to throw a ball at someone's face if they disagreed with her.

I didn't even get the chance to try to catch their attention, because Larxene stood up as soon as she saw me through the glass and opened the door. She scowled at me and said, "State your purpose."

"H2WHOA?"

"Great!" She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room, reached up to grab my shoulders and pushed me to the ground. Everyone else smiled at me, but she stared at me with her arms folded. "Well? Are you going to introduce yourself, or do we have to haze you?"

That day I discovered from the others in the group that Larxene was more deadly in water than she was on land--which scared me a little--and it had been her idea to start the society. She was in the process of organising a tournament, and we would meet every Saturday and Wednesday at seven am, and if that was too early for anyone then tough luck. I gave a sheepish smile and chuckled when I heard that, but she gave me a look so challenging I couldn't even find her weird, pointy hairstyle amusing.

In a sense I was glad that she'd come outside and manhandled me in. It wasn't so hard to talk to the people once she'd nudged me and made me give my full life story, complete with high school swimming stats. I was excited about the whole thing. At least it was something to break up the dull weeks until the end of the semester.

The rest of the day was normal. Axel arrived home with stories of stalking Roxas around campus. I told him that I found the flyer and had gone to the meeting, and then we ate in front of the TV--terrestrial channels only, to Axel's disgust--and Axel had organised a small party in honour of my birthday. Axel's idea of a party was six boxes of beer and a hat that he forced me to wear as he held me at the window and yelled to passers-by that it was my special day. After getting quite drunk, I put a CD on and lay on the couch, watching the ceiling wave around in front of me. Axel sat on the coffee table and tried to make an speech about my qualities, but eventually I fell asleep.

I suppose this is the point when I should say that I knew something important was about to happen, but I really had no idea. I just thought that I was going to end up with a new hobby, finish my degree and putter through life as I had been. To be honest, I didn't really give the whole thing much thought. There was no omen or oracle to tell me to prepare for it. I guess that's just the way things go.

I woke up the next morning and Axel was lying on the floor, a half-rolled cigarette in his hand. I laughed and kicked him in the side, and he grumbled and tried to hit me, which made the tobacco fly everywhere. It was about eleven o'clock on Tuesday morning, and I was about to be hit with the biggest hangover of my life. As soon as I looked at the empty beer bottles on the floor I knew I was going to be sick. Par for the course.

In just under twenty four hours time, though, things were going to get unusual. I wish I could say I planned it, since then I could take some credit, but I've got to blame the universe for this one.