Penchant For Quest

Chapter 1: Watchful Eyes and Endless Mind

"Stop denying it, you liar!" The cracked voice of Mrs. Summers enveloped the hallway of the second floor renting unit of F&R Summers' Apartment Rentals as she stood upon the pile of pictures and files scattered infront of their room's door early in the morning.

"Here we go again, Rebecca. It's just five in the morning and I've yet to enter the room. Could you be any more patient?" It was the annoyed yet weary calm reply of Mr. Fred Summers that made his wife even more enraged.

For almost five months, at last she had already found out— that's what he thought to himself. Of course, he may look as if out of sanity because of being relieved by the fact that his two-decade relationship with Mrs. Summers will about to have its end. However, he was much more pleasured by the fact that he could now move out with his mistress in New York without any hesitation and chain collars cuffed around his neck that his wife had been pulling off since.

"Patience, er?! Let's see to where on earth will my patience go," soon after she glared at Mr. Summers, Rebecca bent down to aggressively get one of the pictures lying on the floor and left the unperturbed man she had been married to since she was 20.

Meanwhile, the husband didn't seem to be bothered by the sudden take off of Mrs. Summers along with her things.

Fred heaved a deep sigh then just merely walked straight past the scattered files and before he could even close the door of his room, a young man appeared before him handing a bit of dollars.

Mr. Summers could barely recognize the man's features because it had already been two weeks since he'd come to visit his renting unit in Baltimore. After a few seconds of trying to figure out who was this lad infront of him and why it seems handing him a money, he remembered that this was one of the student boarders of his renting building whom he often met when he was still incharge of managing the apartment rentals.

"30$ for my renting space. I see you are Mrs. Summers' husband and I intend to give the fee on its due date. But, since she has left and it also seems that she has no intentions of going back, I ought to think I should pay to you," the young man explained.

Impressed by how the boy talks and seems to know well, Mr. Summers  slowly nodded in agreement and took the renting fee from the lad's hands.

"I see, observant as you are," he said while counting the money he'd received.

"I gotta go, Mr. Fredrick Summers," the boy picked up his bag and walked downstairs.

I should start knowing my neighbors— Mr. Summers thought to himself and put his door shut.

                                ———

"...and there was Argus who was stabbed to death," Ms. Kremer, atlastly, said as she ended her Greek Myth story about some god during the BC era, somewhere West.

"Was that it, Ms. Jane? Aww, I thought he'll have some peeky time on Hera's undergarments with multiplex eyes he have," a pint of sarcasm and mockery were there rather than just a mere statement by Redg Dane and his Brit accent, one of the lout students of the CrimCourse Takers— that's what criminology students name themselves— which made the whole class summoned in laughter.

"Oh yes, Redg. By the by, mind if I can already get your research paper due last week?" Ms. Kremer asserted tuning up the harmonic 'ooh' from the whole class except two— Redg, whose grin quickly turned mocked, and Ian Syd Ermings, sitting at the further back of the room, who doesn't really seem to care with the debate going on.

Ian Syd is just one of the students who spends his prime just trying to survive the life granted for him. He actually couldn't care less to whatever these twists of life were going to turn up for him, however, he just found himself applying for a queer course in Maryland Institute College of Codes and Cyphers.

Life continue to stir up for Ian since he got himself freed from the bars of the prison-like orphanage house he had resided for 18 years. Now that a year had passed already, he had been used to living the unboxed life he knew he deserves.

It's not that his foster parents had chained him but living in solitude feels more home to him than pretending to be part of a 'family' he doesn't even have a tinge of their blood.

Four more classes have lectured upon then Mr. Lyrett Davis, the professor in Philosophy and the last to teach for the day, dismissed the class. The students quickly vanished the room for some reason whether because there was something important to see outside or they just want to leave the serious ambiance created from the last lecture
of their Philosophy subject.

Ian shoved his books and shouldered his black bag. He left the room empty except for Mr. Davis and Majorette Presley, one of his classmates whom some call 'Lady Pres' not because as a short term for her last name but because she is the student campus lady president of MI College of Law and Criminology.

As he makes his last steps out the door, Ian just shoot them one last glance then toward his seat, checking if he unintendedly left again a book or a pen.

Fortunately, there was none this time.

He already acquainted himself to always check for his things before leaving a room since he almost lost his keys to his apartment last month and his Career Patriotism Project last week, in which he almost got a failing grade if only Grey Thompson didn't kept it and gave it to him before his name was called infront to present it. 

Ian paved his way through the chattering crowd at the hallway. He actually doesn't have any friends or acquaintances to be with after every tiring day of classes, more so, he was just also not thrilled by the idea of having one or a two.

As Ian was about to tread down the hallway stairs, he heard the blended groans and deep sighs of one circle.

"Dang it. This midyear shit exam gonna ruin my gag vacay next month," one of the group scowled, gripping hardly on his phone.

"Ain't gonna argue, man. If only my dad won't beat me to death, I'll just skip it as I did with my two courses last month," the other one vented.

After a millisecond glance at the group, Ian proceeded on walking his way home. Although, he could still peripherally eye and clearly ear on the scorning rhetoric question of another, "Do they really have to post it around the whole campus?! Pain-ass sight it is," as she yanked a piece of paper from the wall.

Whatever test that is, not as though they are water to pass that— Ian just said to himself in sarcastic.

Sure he don't meddle with others' dilemma, but no one would even know what he thinks and what he wants to anyway. Mind do has endless storage for the words left unsaid and chosen to be kept.