Group Chat

Nicknames, as made by Maverick

Galilee: Maze Runner Eyebrows Guy
Jerry: Seinfeld
Elodie: Melodie
Benedict: Cumberbatch
Maverick: Clara's beard

Tempest: StormyDarlington: Darlington
Marcellus: Marky Mark
Calypso: Homer's Girl
Moonie: Moonie
Ro: Ro your boat

Clara's beard

hey does everyone else have no internet?? cant stand campus wifi
Message undelivered

~~~

Darlington practically melts out of bed the next day. The ground is cold, but he always sweats so much when he drinks. He rubs his head and the memory washes over him. He flinches, pulling himself upright, and checking the room. So much of the evening is a blur. He looks around, checking his desk. There is a bottle of whisky on it, that wasn't opened when he left for the party, but now there is a decent amount gone. He's fully naked as well. Everything after Tempest dragged him out of the party is pretty fuzzy. She took him to the bathroom, and they ran into Moonie crying in the bathroom.

Fuck, did he and Tempest?

He struggles into his bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror. No, he didn't have sex, he thinks. There is no condom in the bathroom garbage, so he doesn't think that is what happened. She probably just brought him back to his room. He must've stripped in the night. Sweaty.

But, Tempest is pregnant. If he was pushy, if she was into him in a way he doesn't think, he might have thought it was fine, since she was pregnant already. When he is drunk, he doesn't think.

Darlington feels so nauseous. Despite this, he throws on his track pants and a t-shirt, and beelines out of the door for the floor above, where Tempest is.

~~~

Maverick hasn't seen Moonie since during the party. He realized she was gone about ten minutes after they finished flip cup, after he had spent time congratulating his other teammates. He wanted to thank Moonie last, because she started it all. Moonie was so kind, going slowly on purpose to give Darlington a chance. Yet, he looked around, and she was gone. Tempest said she went to walk Darlington up to bed, and they called it a night pretty soon after that.

It's noon, and he waited in the kitchen, hoping she would come down to make breakfast. Lots of the resident assistants don't eat breakfast, but Moonie loves to make eggs, bacon, toast, and throw together a fruit bowl. Breakfast with Moonie is like breakfast on a family sitcom, where there is more food and heart than there would ever be at a breakfast in the real world. She never came.

So, he made them a box of mac and cheese, leaving some leftovers for whoever happens upon the lounge next, and he knocks on her door.

Inside, Moonie stumbles toward the door. She was up late, and her head is pounding.

She opens her door and she is startled to see Maverick on the other side. He's smiling at her, and in his hands are two bowls of mac and cheese.

"I don't know if they are any good," Maverick says. "We don't have any milk, so I had to use water. There was butter in the fridge though, so that should do."

Moonie stares at him. He has come up for her, and she feels a shame deep inside her stomach, that spreads up to her throat. Maybe she's going to vomit.

"Moons, you okay?" Maverick asks. He goes to touch her, but then realizes he still has bowls of mac and cheese in his hands.

"No, yeah," Moonie nods her head quickly. "Yeah, no, I'm totally fine."

"You... can I put these down?" Maverick jokes.

Moonie steps aside and lets Maverick in her room. He walks through it, putting down the food on her desk. Moonie is never particularly clean. She often has clothes strewn about her room after a night out, since she is always in a rush to get there on time and find an outfit she likes. Maverick likes it. He feels most comfortable when surrounded by things. Darlington's sparse room makes him uneasy.

"Bad night, huh?" Maverick asks. He heads into her bathroom. In her cabinet, he pulls out a face cloth, wetting it.

Moonie doesn't know what to say. The night was many things, some good and bad. The morning after is more of a disaster.

"Hey, Moons?" he asks.

"Just, hungover," she manages.

Maverick comes back into the room. He has the warm cloth in his hands. Typically, Moonie is forgetful on the best of occasions. While drunk last night, it seems she forgot to take off her makeup, and her black eyeliner and eyeshadow (whatever colour it is supposed to be) have now come in a stain around her eyes. Maverick reaches up the clothed hand, and begins to wipe away the makeup.

Her stomach turns. Moonie bolts upright, nearly knocking Maverick over. She raises into her bathroom and pukes over the toilet. Sure, her hangover is bad, but it is nothing like the betrayal she committed against Maverick. He was kind to Galilee last night, and that kindness was enough to sway Moonie away. She is sick on her own evil.

Besides, if he looks close enough he's going to find one of the hickeys on her neck and collarbone.

Maverick follows behind her, holding her hair up. She continues to wretch into the toilet, feeling tears begin to come out of her eyes.

"You're okay," he manages. "We can cuddle up and watch a Hallmark movie, or something until this passes. I downloaded one to my computer, so no having to deal with the shitty campus Wi-Fi."

"Go," Moonie groans.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easily," Maverick laughs.

Moonie turns around, pulling her hair out of his grip. Staring up at him, Moonie watches the smile on his face start to drain. She can feel herself shaking, but she speaks as firmly as she ever has, "go!"

Maverick flinches. He steps back, nods once, and then he leaves the room.

It is only then that Moonie actually lets herself cry.

~~~

Sometimes, since they are on the same floor, Marcellus and Callie like to play games with each other. None of the other resident assistants who occupy the same spaces are close, and usually, their students get far too invested in the rivalries between the east and west sides. Marcellus and Callie are not as hands-on as some of the other staff members, like Moonie and Maverick, though they aren't anywhere near as distant as Jerry and Ro.

This morning, Callie is blasting music. Marcellus didn't think that girls who listened to soft music with acoustic guitar and sweet music would ever blast songs, but there her music goes. It is obnoxiously loud too. It woke him an hour ago, and since then he hasn't been able to sleep.

Marcellus powers up his remote-controlled car. He tapes his speaker on top of it and uses his phone's Bluetooth to blast metal music. Only peeking his head down, the hallway, he sends the remote-control car out. He pilots in until it is just outside her room and cranks the volume.

In her room, Callie had been trying to work on more sample pieces for her Etsy. When she paints, it is easier to tune out the world, but the window is shaking from the force of the wind. Her gentle touch doesn't work as well, and then suddenly there is metal music outside her door.

She stalks over to her door, and she opens it just to hear the squeal of the car's wheels racing away. Her eyes trail after the green car, with purple and orange stripes, and just past it, she sees Marcellus grinning.

After wiping her chin, she finds herself grinning. She pulls out her phone and turns up her own speakers. Marcellus hates country music. They once when to a frat party with a country theme, and when he puked he blamed the music rather than the alcohol. So, she picks a tune with a strong baritone bass and the twang of a banjo, and plays it, smirking back at him, and then closing her door.

Marcellus drives the car back up to her door. His family has no money, but he knows about investing. The few things he owns, he invests in greatly. So, his speaker is far more powerful, and soon the sound is blasting outside of Callie's door again. She had just sat down in front of her canvas too.

The building has no internet, so she doesn't know how long either of them can afford to stream songs the other hates. Ten seconds later, she can't take it, and so she storms out to the door again.

The car races off away from her.

She plants her hands on her hips and shouts over the music, "are you bored?"

"What?" Marcellus shouts.

"Are you bored?" Callie screams.

Marcellus thinks for a second, "yeah, obviously! I'm here!"

"Well, do something!" she screams back.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he asks back.

Callie laughs. She turns off her music, and steps out of her room, "I've got an idea. You in?"

In the last year, Callie and Marcellus have found themselves at similar parties. Just as much as she has raced him into trouble, she has pulled him out. So, Marcellus turns off his music and shrugs, "beats doing nothing."

~~~

When Elodie slams her body against the door to the roof, it still won't open. She groans, holding a joint in her hand. Before heading up, she properly bundled this time. In addition to her coat, boots, and gloves, she's wearing two pairs of pants and three layers of tops. Yet, the door is stuck shut. So, she heads down to the main floor, hoping to burst it open.

There are no areas to hang out on the first floor, so Elodie isn't expecting to run into anyone. The two resident assistants have fewer students on the first floor than the resident assistants on the upper floors due to the expansive windows on one of the walls. It is against these windows that Benedict and Galilee have sat for the last hour.

All the way on the top floor, Galilee finds her room claustrophobic. Her heart hates the space. She spent much of the morning pushing the furniture of the 6E lounge to the walls so she could practice her jazz routine. Now, she is sitting facing the windows, reading a book for next semester.

Benedict is playing guitar. He chose this spot because it's a big cold, and so in his oversized sweater, he hoped no one would bother him. He caught a glimpse of Maverick way down the hallway slipping in and out of Moonie's room, but there are doors that separated the entryway from the rest of the building, so neither of them would have heard him play guitar. If Galilee had tried to say any words other than hello, he would have left. She's wearing headphones anyway.

What Benedict doesn't know is that Galilee turned off her music to listen to him as soon as he resumed playing.

Elodie spots them in the entryway when she gets off the elevator. She heads out anyway. The entrance is cold, and the windows are rattling from the heavy wind. If she didn't know the force they could withstand from watching an angry, drunk, ex-girlfriend hurl a desk chair at them, she would worry that they would break.

The snow is worse though. It's hard to tell how deep it is because the wind has blown it up against the windows. It was only two nights ago that she thought she would go home, and it is so deep. It's nearly at the height of the bar which you would use to push the door open in better conditions.

"Holy shit," Elodie manages, peering out.

Galilee pulls off her headphones and closes her book, "yeah. It's bad."

"That is so fucked," Elodie has no other words to offer. She looks over at Benedict, who has stopped playing, "how long will it take to clear?"

"No idea," he admits. "News this morning said Michigan's declared a state of emergency. Two cities a bit farther north have been out of power since last night."

Unfortunately, Galilee feels her face turn red, "is that why our Wi-Fi is down?"

"It's just campus Wi-Fi," Benedict isn't sure, but he lies to Galilee anyway. Their space is so claustrophobic, and he cannot handle it if she flies off the handle. The building is far too small for that.

Down the hall, Ro leaves her room to grab lunch. Even without students, she locks her door. There is no telling what the other resident assistants are up to now. While she doubts any of them would steal, she doesn't doubt that one of them would dare another. As she heads to the elevator, she sees the others, gathered outside the entrance.

Her fingers find the button to the lift. It dings open, and she steps forward. The voice of her mom is in her ear, and she sighs. Making friends it is.

Ro heads out after them. She nods at the snow.

"This will be my first white Christmas," she laughs.

"I told you it didn't snow in Buenos Aires," Benedict tries not to smirk.

Ro shakes her head, her curly hair bouncing around her, "how fucked are you? I live in the southern hemisphere, asshole. It snows in summer."

She doesn't add that the last time it snowed in the city itself was in 2007.

"That's exciting!" Galilee offers, but she can't properly smile. "I... this will be my first holiday without my family. The snow might make up for it, at least."

For a second, Ro sees the disappointment on Elodie's face. As soon as they were delayed, Ro realized she couldn't get home no matter what. The hope the others had held at the time felt like a betrayal to her personally. Now though, everyone is pissed off, and there is no comfort in the universality of suffering. It is strange, for her to wish she could be alone in staying here over the holidays.

"I am happy," she says, even if she isn't. "I mean, I've seen snow here before, but I haven't really gotten to touch it."

"We should figure out how to get outside," Galilee agrees. "Benedict is clever. I'm sure he will think of something, right?"

Benedict looks at them. It is nearly three feet deep already, and it is still coming down. Yet, Galilee said he was smart. Anyone could say it because it is true. Maybe though, he can do a good thing.

"Sure, Galls," the nickname feels like gin on his tongue. The flavour is bitter, near miserable, but intoxicating. The way she smiles at him makes him feel like he could be the kind of person who gets others to smile. "I'll figure it out."

"Fuck yes," Elodie agrees. She can wait until then to smoke. There must be something else to do.

~~~

With the Wi-Fi down, Jerry is going insane. Online multiplayer is the best kind of game to play. Basically, no one is in the basement, where he expects them to be, to join in on his fun.

Mostly, he has been rehearsing pretend debates in his head. One of the only parts of the winter break he enjoys is when they see his extended family. His house feels like it's infested with mice. Jerry has nothing against mice, which is why the metaphor works. Mice sneak around and eat food, and sometimes squeak but make poor conversationalists, and mice are more afraid of him than he is of them. So, when he gets to see his cousins, who love playing video games with him, and his grandfather, who is a homophobic piece of shit, Jerry flourishes. He prefers when his grandfather calls him a disgusting freak. It's better than silence.

In the staff office, Jerry has been lounging, perched on his chair. He is trying to debate in his head if he looks more like a bird or a gargoyle. The unfortunate thing about debating yourself is that it is hard to decide who is the winner. Both parties are equally skilled.

Finally, he loses it. He wants the Wi-Fi back. So, he takes a dry-erase marker and writes on the board with it.

Press F to pay respects to the WiFi

He looks back at his work. Everyone says that Callie is an artist, but he thinks he has made a masterpiece.

~~~

There is a knock at Tempest's door. She answers it. On the other side, Darlington sweats, staring at her.

"Are you all right?" she peers down the hallway, hoping Maverick isn't home to see this. Darlington must be so fucked, because there is no way he would let anyone see him like this on a normal occasion. Perhaps the embarrassment of his public intoxication is shifting his behaviours.

"Did..." Darlington stares at her. He stumbles toward her, and she shifts to let him inside.

"You look terrible," she says. "With love, obviously. Are you okay?"

"Did we have sex?" he needs to say it quickly or else he will regret it.

"What?" Tempest's voice is higher pitched than I am. "Wait, did you black out last night-"

"Oh God," Darlington collapses on to her floor. He doesn't make it to her desk chair. Her bed is closer, but he wouldn't touch it unless his life depended on it. "Please tell me we used protection. I cannot find a condom."

"We didn't have sex!" Tempest's heart is racing. She practically sleeps. "You didn't either, I don't think. Unless..."

She cannot finish the sentence. If she did, he would die on the spot of mortification, or he would quit his job. Perhaps, he would do both, managing to call in to the super before a heart attack took him.

"What?" he asks, looking around. There should be relief that he didn't have sex with Tempest, but there isn't. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I came to check on you about fifteen minutes after I dropped you off with Moonie in the bathroom," she points out, stammering. "You... I didn't look closely once I saw you were... you know... pantsless. Moonie wasn't there. I even got you water from your bathroom, so she wasn't hiding."

"So, I didn't have sex?" Darlington feels relief. He must have stumbled up to his room and stripped, just as he expected.

"Well," Tempest says, swallowing. Her face is so flushed. If she has to talk with anyone about this, she guesses it is best that it is Darlington. "You were pretty drunk. If it took Moonie five minutes to get you to your room. That might be enough time if you... well..."

Darlington holds one hand up to stop her, and the other to cover his mouth. He cannot decide what is worse. The fact that he might have had sex with a coworker, or that he might have had bad sex with a coworker. Ten minutes.

"Darlington-"

"Don't continue," Darlington says, swallowing. "If you continue, I'm going to take the Lord's name in vain, and I don't think you want to be involved in that.

~~~~~

No thoughts, head empty. Only, satisfaction. Press f to pay respects to Darlington's dignity and to Moonie's relationship with Maverick. However, I am excited for the next chapter! So excited!