Ryder

two

It did go down the same shithole, and things did turn out to be as fucked as I had hoped they wouldn't get. Because, obviously.

After class ended, I didn't think twice before walking to the music department, hoping that I'd catch Soren before he left for his next class. Nico, on the other hand, was mostly out of his early morning hangover state by then since he tagged along quite nicely. Though he wasn't nice enough to not grump all the way.

"So Mister Fuckboy plays guitar," he said. "How much more of a prissy, perfect of a golden ass can he be?"

"Piano." I corrected him. "He plays the piano."

"Whatever. Piano, guitar, music's the same. That's not the point."

I bristled a little and had this sudden urge to correct him--one that I overcame by laughing softly as if I agreed with him. I didn't.

"The point is." He continued, waving his hand in the air. "How can anyone stand him? Clearly, the dude is a fake. You think his hair really is that perfect shade of golden blonde? No. That fucker dyes it. You think he's got enough grades to hold that scholarship he so proudly goes around throwing in everyone's faces? No, he doesn't! He cheats."

"He does?" I glanced at Nico in surprise.

"Of course, he does!" He looked offended as if I should've already known. "How the hell do you not know that?"

I grimaced.

"I was there with him in high school, Rhodes, and you don't understand how he used to fuck everything and anything within reach of him." He shuddered. "Goodness gracious, what do you even see in him?"

I shrugged uneasily. "It might come as a surprise to you but he's been there for me."

"The sex, you mean."

"Not the sex, I mean." I nudged him softly which Nico responded with a somewhat perplexed look. "He's a nice friend to have. A nice...boyfriend. Really."

Soren and I didn't have as perfect of a relationship as most of the couples I got to see around me, but I only just blamed it on the fact that we'd only started dating a week ago--which was the longest any of my relationships had ever gone. Soren understood me and even though he didn't like spending a lot of our time together, he was still mostly there for me.

Clearly, I didn't see the problem. Until that one text he'd sent me.

Nico passed me a dark-eyed, dubious look and I was glad, beyond glad, when I spotted the familiar translucent doors of the classroom where groups of music majors were usually found on early Mondays.

A tiny sliver of silence and then a jolt inside my chest when I neared the doors and heard. Everything and anything that came from those sturdy bows moving softly over the violin strings. I saw, even from afar, the few kids nodding along to their professor, bows in their hands, and burgundy cases near their feet. Grace and skill, a voice in my head said.

"Would you look at that," Nico remarked.

I blinked and broke out of the trance I always got into whenever I came near these two doors, my eyes darting to him as my cheeks flamed. But Nico wasn't even looking at me. Instead, his gaze was at Nancy--the one and only, who had also been the crazy host of the party last night. The same party where Nico and I had gotten utterly shit-drunk.

"How does she not look even a little bit hungover?" I looked at her in awe, my eyes instinctively following her movements as she strummed the chords of her acoustic fender guitar.

"Fucking menace," Nico grumbled. "I know for a fact she gave me one of those vodka shots when all I'd ask for was a Coke."

I choked on a sudden laugh when Nico turned his glare on me. "Sorry."