Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tales of Intrigue ❯ Day One ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: None. Everyone in this original fiction belongs to me (for the first time ever). Mwha.


Author's Notes: So. I wrote this ages ago simply because it was so much fun, but since then…I didn't want to continue it. Of course, now that I've reread and fixed, I'm getting nostalgic about Nathaniel and Ren. Ah well.

Thanks to Moe for beta-ing.

Completed: 17/11/04

Day One

29/7

My new journal. Nice to meet ya, yo. Well, not really, since I'm only writing because my media studies' lecturer is god smacked on us keeping entry logs or something - I have no idea; don't look at me. I was the one staring blankly at her bald spot.
 
It's also damn embarrassing too because who needs a bloody journal? I haven't written in one since I was ten, and that was because I was too young and foolish to know any better. Because boys? Don't have journals. They freakin' don't. Except I did. But I'm in denial. So it never happened. Period. Of course, now that I'm a grown up with a capital G, it's even more eye-rolling and puke-inducing than ever before. Maybe I exaggerate. After all, I once had eight mugs of beer and survived that experience, so this is bound to be more pleasant. Or so I think - which is not something I have a lot of faith in. My mind just doesn't do well with logic.

I guess before I get a D, I should at least try that log entry thing. Apparently, I don't need to do much except write down my ramblings daily and poof, five percent of my grade is there. Works for me, if Professor Linds isn't too strict on the distinction between quantity and quality, and the huge, stomping sarcasm monster that is threatening to eat us all. Mwha.

Excuse me. That was very unworthy of me. I should be ashamed.

Oh well.

I believe I should give this a better try - no, actually that's what my conscience would like me to think; it's taking advantage of me right now because the little devil on my shoulder is still drunk and incapacitated.

But I'll listen anyway since it's caught me at a good time, so: here goes.

Today, at the ungodly hour of seven something I had woken up in my cold, freezing, heater-deprived apartment and got out of bed in a state of what I could only coin as zombism. It took me approximately ten minutes to shakily move away from the delicious warmness of my bed (oh, how I miss that bed) and stumble into the bathroom where my room mate happened to be showering in. The steam had been great; the room mate wasn't, though he only gave me an annoyed stare as he dripped his way to his room in nothing but a towel. Not that I noticed.

Breakfast was nearly burnt toast grabbed just as we rushed to class, and him being the safest driver ever, it really said something when we didn't crawl minutely through traffic. Of course, him being the only one of us who had a car, I couldn't whine too much about it. Actually, I was told I couldn't whine period by my helpful room mate who just entered and said I was weird.

You are weird.

Ren is definitely annoying, but as you can see, as annoying as he is, I will always prevail! See our struggle; look at our brilliant battle, in which, I, the strong one...lost to Ren's freakishly athletic frame and fell down with a painful thump. He, feeling ever so guilty because my forehead had a brief affair with his elbow, gave me my journal, uh, I mean my media log book back and made dinner. That sweet jerk.  

Fortunately, he was an adequate cook (he never set anything on fire), and we ate like starved students on a rainy night with nowhere to go and no place to drink.

Right. Back to where I left off since I'm sure Professor Linds won't be too amused by my tale of student intrigue.

Anyway, so we made it to our first lectures of our first semester in time obviously; Ren went to the technology and sciences block (three guesses as to what he's getting his degree in) while I, the not so decisive Arts student headed towards the social sciences, a building block where all us creative types went and argued and smoked - creatively, of course. Not that I had any experience of that whatsoever.

First up was a lecture for a media paper, where I eventually learned about our semester-long project. Five percent of our grades; yay. But that's not all. Despite the fact that it was mostly internally assessed, we still had finals, a subject which brought up a sea of groans. I had suffered the announcement good-naturedly of course, considering the fact that most of my papers were internally assessed, and that at most, I had only two exams per semester. A lucky deal, if I ever saw one because when Ren and I met up for lunch, it would seem he had finals for all of his papers. This, as expected, caused me to mwhahaha my way through our meal, giving me a couple of bruises from whaps to my head (Ren was freakishly strong) and left me with a sore throat from nearly choking after a particularly strong mwha. It was at this point that I received more bruises from an insincerely concerned Ren who took no time in patting my back. With all the power of his freakish strength. Jerk.

Next on the list of things-to-do, was turning up at my second lecture of the day. Like all proper Arts students at one time or another, I had enrolled in a creative writing course. It had sounded pretty good at first, and since I'd been undecided when I picked all my courses, I randomly chose ones that I thought wouldn't bore me. As it was, I wasn't too overly bored. Literature had its ups and downs, but I loved analysing and just being a pain-in-the-ass perfectionist, so English was another paper that was picked on the basis of me hoping it wouldn't suck. Go me. I'm such an organized guy. And just like all organized guys, I had to push it. I pushed and pushed and chose one extra paper when I didn't need to, and now I've got eight papers in total over two semesters. Four each, which doesn't sound too bad now that I think about it, but I had to wonder what I was thinking when I first signed the enrolment forms. I certainly wasn't thinking about the lessening amount of time that I would spend on my many obsessions, that's for sure. And of course, me being me, I'd be too stubborn to drop one; it was too late already (the deadline for withdrawals was, like, yesterday), and plus, it wasn't like I couldn't handle it. I could. I'll just...leave my obsessions alone for a while. I hope.

Ren's rolling his dark, gorgeous eyes right about now, but I just stick my tongue out at him. The jerk. He's just lucky he's pretty or I would seriously go crazy and throw some things at him. Specifically, his things because my possessions are preciousssss, and because his are pointier and will thus do the most damage.

I guess it's at this point I must confess to the impure thoughts of Ren I have floating in my mind. It's not my fault. The guy's just freakishly good-looking, and I just have this sad habit of  coveting crushes on guys like him. It's a pathetic fact of life that I fall for someone, befriend that someone, and end up broken hearted and drunk on my ass when that someone falls for someone else. A never-ending cycle, is what it is, and I seem to be permanently stuck in the confounding loop. I just feel lucky my girl crushes aren't so depressing. In fact, I was surprised by the amount of non-rejections I'd received in the prior years of my dating history. 

I think I should stop now. (Sorry, Professor Linds; I know how much you love reading about my sex life, but this is becoming too depressing. My mind is consumed with lovelorn clichés, and I must stop before I knock myself out in hopes of killing the sentimentality in my manly soul). I promise I'll do a much better entry next time.

And thus, ends the first entry of the journal/log/project of me: Nathaniel Asher McCoy, sarcastic student of the Humanities Society.