"Okay, so does everyone have access to the module handbook? In this module you'll be delivering a lecture on an artist of your choosing. It's a partner project, and you'll be organising everything yourselves - from the location, to your audience. You can work in groups of two to four, and I'll need to know what your groups are by the end of the week."

Fantastic. It's moments like these that made me realise how inconvenient it is to have no friends on your course. Perhaps I should have tried a little harder to get to know everyone during the induction week... and throughout the whole first year of university. Sure, there were people I chatted to that I could sit with while we waited for the tutor to show up, but there was no one that I would hang out with at a party. There was no one that I'd spoken to for more than ten minutes.

The tutor continued discussing the module, talking us through the mark scheme, but I was no longer paying any attention. Instead, I was worrying about who the hell I'd have to work with for the next few months. I really didn't want to have to meet up with some of these people outside of uni. Or worse, what if I partnered up with someone who never showed up to work on the project and I had to do the whole thing? That had been the case for a few past projects. I certainly knew who I wouldn't be partnering up with this time around.

I scanned the lecture hall, noticing most people were already muttering to each other, organising their groups while the tutor continued to talk. To my right sat a boy named Ben; he was a lanky guy with trimmed bleached blond hair, pale skin and a barely there scruff of stubble along his jaw. I'd said maybe two words to him the entire time we'd been at uni - probably because he rarely attended classes. I really didn't want to work with him.

"Hey," a voice two seats to my left whispered. "Daisy, you wanna' pair up?"

Roman Williams sat to my left, one chair over, slouched onto the tiny folding desk, dressed in a baggy hoodie and joggers, a twin to my own comfortable outfit - it was rare I wore anything else to lectures. There was no need to make University worse than it already was and jeans certainly made things about fifty times shitter.

He ran a hand through his textured hair, side eyeing me as he pretended to keep his focus on the tutor at the front.

"Daisy?" He prompted, again speaking in a quiet whisper so as not to draw the tutor's attention.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I agreed, relief audible in my tone. Roman was definitely a preferred partner. He was quiet in the seminars and studio sessions, but he didn't seem to slack off, and his work was great. Maybe if we worked hard enough, we could finish the presentation way before the deadline and relax for the rest of the module.

Roman sighed. "Oh thank God, I literally haven't spoken to anyone else on our course before. This is what being an antisocial knob gets you."

I snickered quietly, my shoulders shaking with the effort it took to make as little noise as possible, and he grinned back at me.

"Do you have a spare pen, by the way?" he asked, gesturing to his desk. "I forgot one, so I've just been staring at a blank notebook this entire time while Martin drabbles on."

"Sorry no."

"Ah mate, I've got one," Ben interrupted, suddenly leaning over me with a pen in hand. I flinched back, shooting him a sharp glare at the sudden intrusion of my personal space. He's practically in my lap, for goodness' sake.

Roman accepted the pen with a quiet thanks, having to lean over the empty chair between us, his fingers outstretched as far as possible to grasp it. All the while I leant back as far as possible. The polite thing to do would have been to pass it along, but I'd already committed to putting as much distance between Ben and I.

"Mate, do you have nail varnish on?" Ben asked, looking down at Roman's hands with a confused frown, as if he couldn't comprehend the sight.

"Uh... Yeah," Roman answered curtly, settling back into his seat, meeting my eyes briefly. We shared a look, one that I understood to mean: 'What the fuck?'

"Man, you're brave. I wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea, you know?"

What a great thing to say. Well done Ben, conversationalist of the year. We gays applaud you for your refreshing honesty.

"Wow," Roman breathed, offering him a tight-lipped smile. "Sorry you're so insecure, man, that must suck."

I smothered back a laugh, turning it into a not very subtle cough. Roman shot me another look, a smile curving at the corner of his mouth.

"I think it's hot when guys wear nail varnish," I confessed with a shrug, coming to Roman's defence.

"You do?" Ben asked, an eyebrow arched in what seemed to be disbelief.

"Yeah, maybe it's the bisexual in me, but men that are comfortable with themselves and aren't afraid to explore stereotypical femininity are very attractive," I explain, stressing my sexuality. "Nothing turns me off faster than fragile masculinity, because it's almost always rooted in sexism or homophobia."

"Er, right," Ben replied, looking utterly uncomfortable. Without another word, he turned back to his notebook, facing the front of the lecture hall.

Another look passed between Roman and I.

***

That evening at the gym, thankfully Markus' friends Andres, Alec and Lynch were nowhere to be seen, and I enjoyed the session far more without the feeling of eyes on me constantly. It felt like just another of my lunchtime sessions with Dev.

Markus had been there, but he had been busy cleaning equipment, paying absolutely no attention to me, and it wasn't until I was leaving and passed by him at the reception desk that we acknowledged one another.

"You walking again?" He asked, eyeing my still damp hair. I'd showered today and tried to dry my hair as quickly as possible. "Want me to walk with you?"

"My flatmate is meeting me... We're off out," I added, not wanting him to think I was purposefully avoiding his company - not that I was eager to spend time with him again, not at all. I certainly hadn't been thinking about him all day.

"Right," he said, attention back on the laptop screen in front of him.

I checked my phone for the time and any notifications from Sarah. She was getting a taxi over, and then we were walking to the pub together.

She sent the message six minutes ago, yet she was nowhere to be seen. I shifted on my feet, awkwardly meeting Markus' fleeting gaze. He didn't make eye contact much, avoiding my eyes whenever I looked towards him.

"Where are your friends today?" I asked, not really caring but feeling obligated to break the silence while I waited for Sarah to arrive.

"Back at work all day, thankfully. Gave me a fucking break from them. I'm meeting them in a bit," Markus grumbled, and I had to stifle my laughter.

"I thought Lynch worked here?"

"He's-"

"Hey, you ready to go?" Sarah cut Markus off, stepping through the front doors with her phone clutched in her hand as she placed her purse back into her bag. When she looked up and noticed Markus, her eyes widened in delight.

"Yep, sure, let's go," I said tightly before Sarah could say anything else, narrowing my eyes at her as I nudged her out the door, fearful that she'd say something embarrassing. She'd seen me come home yesterday, a wide grin on my face, and had teased me all evening about it until I'd confessed to having walked home with Markus.

"No need to shove," Sarah laughed, allowing me to lead her out of the door. She waved over her shoulder. "Bye Markus!"

Right, Markus.

He was scowling down at his laptop when I turned back around to face him, but I didn't have time or the inclination to ask why. "See you tomorrow!" I called out, just as the doors closed between us. I was infinitely thankful that Sarah had technically already met him before and knew his name, so it wasn't so painfully obvious that I had been talking about him to her.

"Tomorrow, ay?" Sarah said, wiggling her eyebrows, a dance in her step as she hooked her arm through mine. "Have you guys got a hot date?"

"I meant at the gym," I scoffed. "I don't even know why I said that. Who knows, he might not even be there tomorrow. I don't know what his shifts are."

"Do you want him to be there?"

I scoffed and uttered a half-hearted, "No."

"Hmm, sure... that sounds convincing. Can't believe you're so completely and utterly infatuated with him already."

"Shut up, I am not," I affirm, cheeks growing hot.

"Oh my gosh!" Sarah cackled. "You're actually blushing! You so have a crush."

"Shut the fuck up," I said in a deadly serious tone, knowing my blush was out of control.

"You're the worst liar I know. But I'll drop it for now. Come on, pick up the pace. We want to get there before it gets too busy."

I pulled a face, speeding up. "The Crown is never busy. It's a shitty pub. Its only benefit is it's the closest to home."

"We're not going there, we're going to The Swan." Sarah waved me off.

"I thought that place burned down?"

"It didn't burn down, there was just..." Sarah's face pinched in thought, "... a little fire."

"Didn't someone die?" I asked incredulously. I was sure I'd seen pictures on the twitter of the entire building up in flames. It hardly had seemed like a 'little fire'.

"No," Sarah scoffed. "They just had... like... second-degree burns. Anyway, the point is the pub is back open now."

"The other pub is closer to home, though."

"Yeah, but this is cheaper, and the atmosphere is better, and despite both having jobs, we're both poor as fuck."

***

True to Sarah's prediction, it had been busy by the time we arrived. There was no evident fire damage. Everything looked as it should be; just a standard working-men's pub with weird patterned carpets, chipped wooden tables and chairs, and leather booths along the edge of the room.

We were lucky to grab a table at all. We'd just bought our drinks at the bar and had to dash towards a newly vacated table, beating the other patrons, looking for a place to sit. It was a small table, with only four chairs, which would leave Sarah's friends that were on their way to fight it out amongst themselves for somewhere to sit. Sarah was quick to shove my backpack and her jacket on the two free chairs to protect them until the rest of our group arrived.

As we waited, Sarah and I weren't talking much, more than comfortable, to sit in silence amongst one another while we sipped at our drinks, when I recognised one of the bar staff walking by our table.

"Roman?" The guy in question seemed startled, turning to face me with a raised brow, a tray of empty glasses teetering dangerously in his hands. "You work here?"

"Daisy, hey." Roman beamed at me, glancing at Sarah next to me, who was watching the exchange in interest. "What are you doing here?"

My lips quirked into a slight smile as I raised my glass.

"Right, of course," he laughed, nodding. "I don't work here. I'm just helping my brother and his friend out. They own the place."

Roman gestured over to a table in the pub's corner, where a group of men were sitting. I felt my stomach drop as soon as I recognised Markus, Andres, Alec and Lynch.

How the hell did Markus even get here so quick? Had he arrived before us? I never saw him come in.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I huffed. Our table shook, my drink sloshing towards the rim of my glass, and I knew it was because Sarah was laughing at me.

Andres caught sight of me first and beamed widely, instantly turning to nudge Markus as he gestured towards the three of us and wiggled his fingers at me in a sort of wave. I rolled my eyes and didn't wave back. I had yet to even meet Andre's properly. The only reason I knew his name was because Markus had snapped it at him the day before. Yet here he was, waving at me like we were good friends.

"You know my brother?" Roman asked, drawing my attention back to him. I avoided his eyes, swallowing roughly.

"Unfortunately, but not really. Oh my gosh, he's getting up. Why is he getting up? Go away, go away," I muttered under my breath in exasperation, wide eyed at the sight of Andres prowling towards us with a wide grin.

"Hang on," Roman laughed. He quickly intercepted Andres, shoving him roughly on the shoulder, and I could just about hear him as he said, "Sit back down, dickhead."

"What? Come on, fuck off Roman," Andres huffed, trying to step around him. It was a funny sight. A muscular six-foot guy stopped in his tracks by a wiry, slender guy like Roman. I could hardly believe they were brothers. There was no similarity in their faces.

"She doesn't want your ugly arse flirting with her. Go back to your friends."

"Yeah, I'm not the one flirting with her," Andres laughed. "Grim is the one you need to watch out for."

"Grim?" Roman asked incredulously, whirling round to face me, and asked again in a near shout, "Markus?"

Because it would be nearly impossible for everyone not to hear him, and I was confident Markus was already listening, I wasn't at all surprised to see him smirking down into his half empty pint.

Just kill me now, please. Someone needs to just kill me right this second.

***

By the time Sarah's friends arrived, the pub was even more packed than before, and I had successfully ignored Markus and the others. Well, mostly. I may have glanced over at their table once. Okay, more like twice. But I definitely hadn't been staring at Markus as he sat with his friends. Definitely not.

Three of her friends, only one of whom I had met before, awkwardly stood around the edge of the table, eyeing the two available chairs.

"Oh, there's a free chair over there!" Sarah exclaimed, pointing over to Markus' table.

Sarah's friends all immediately shook their heads.

"I am not going to ask them for it. They look well scary, and my anxiety is not gonna' handle that," one of them said resolutely, genuinely looking a little fearful as she eyed the table of muscular tattooed men. The other girls nodded in agreement.

"Daisy, you go," Sarah commanded.

"Why me?" I asked incredulously, despite already knowing the answer.

"Why do you think?" Sarah scowled. "You know them."

"You do?" one girl asked in surprise.

"Barely," I grumbled, glaring at Sarah as I slowly gathered myself to my feet. "You really need to make a friend that doesn't have anxiety so they can do all the things we don't want to."

"You don't have anxiety, you're just being a lil' bitch."

"Don't tell me what I don't have," I muttered under my breath, throwing her one last glare over my shoulder as I trudged painfully slowly over to Markus' table. Thankfully, they hadn't noticed me until I was right by their side.

Taking a deep sigh, I forced myself to speak. "Hey-" Almost immediately, Roman was by my side, cutting me off. Rude little shit.

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" Roman almost shouted, carrying two plates of food, glaring at Andres and Alec in particular. "Surely your break is over by now? I thought you just wanted me to help cover opening; I'm done. My feet hurt so much, and I reek of beer."

"Do you ever stop whining?" Andres groaned, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. "It's not like you aren't getting paid. You should appreciate the extra cash."

Roman dumped the two plates of chips on the table in front of Markus and Lynch; the one in front of Lynch smothered in cheese and bacon. For a moment I'd forgotten why I had even approached their table, the smell of the food an excellent distraction. That looked really fucking good. Why hadn't we ordered food? When did the kitchen close? Did we still have time to order? I hadn't eaten since lunch.

"Yeah, no," Roman said flatly, untying the black apron from around his waist. He threw it at Andres' chest, barely missing a half-empty pint glass. "I already have a job, and it pays better than here. Take your shitting apron and clear tables yourself instead of sitting around drinking."

"You're actually worse than mum for nagging," Andres huffed, gathering himself to his feet, knocking back the rest of his pint in one go. Why he was drinking when he was supposedly at work was beyond me. Alec had already walked off towards the bar with a roll of his eyes. "You can think again next time you ask me for a favour."

"You owe me about five favours, dick-head." Roman quickly sank into Andre's recently vacated chair, ignoring his glaring brother as he turned to me and grinned, finally acknowledging my presence at the table. "Daisy! Have you come to join us? I need a drinking partner and these two aren't it," he said, gesturing to Markus and Lynch, the latter of whom was now already halfway through his food, paying absolutely no attention to everything that was occurring.

"Definitely not," I said, a little too quickly. Gripping the backrest of the empty chair in front of me, I explained, "I need this chair."

"No."

"Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"No," Roman repeated simply, a devious smile growing across his face. I didn't trust that smile for one second. "You can't take this chair. What you can do is bring your chairs over here and join us."

The two second glance he made to Markus explained everything. Here I was, thinking Roman and I might bond over this project of ours and make great friends, and here he was trying his damn hardest to throw me under a bus for his own amusement.

I pursed my lips, eyes narrowing on him. Markus and Lynch were silent, but both seemed amused by Roman's ruling. "I don't think we know each other well enough for you to be this much of a dick," I drawl, making no effort to hide my irritation.

"Come on," Roman laughed, unbothered by my tone. "Join us - your friends too. Don't make me sit with these arseholes all night!"

"Like we actually want you here," Lynch scoffed around a mouthful of food. Lovely. "Piss off to Daisy's table."

Roman's mouth dropped open in outrage, and he gasped dramatically as he pushed out his chair and stood to his feet. "Fucking rude! You would be lucky to have me here. Next time you're too drunk to walk home, you are not staying at mine."

"We both know I will," Lynch muttered under his breath to Markus, rolling his eyes at Roman's dramatics.

Roman said nothing else, grabbing his chair and dragging it slowly over towards Sarah and her friends at our table, continuously looking back at Lynch with a glare. Lynch only stared back with the blankest expression imaginable, until Roman finally reached the table and plonked himself down without a single introduction, despite Sarah and all three of her friends staring at him wide-eyed.

"Right then..." I drawled, grip tightening on the chair I was holding.

"Good luck with him. He's a messy drunk," Lynch laughed.

"Puked all over my shoes last time, the shit," Markus added dryly.

"Great..."

Next update: 28th Jan - Chapter 7 is already up on my Inkitt free to read.

[RE-WRITTEN 26/09/22