People were exhausting. But in spite of the fact that his life seemed to be getting busier every day, he didn’t hate it. A year ago, he might have. Maybe it helped to be out of Binkytown, away from home…

At the thought of people, he got up and walked to his room, where his phone lay face down on the cabinet beside his bed. He hadn’t quite been lying when he had told Eddie it was off; it was set to silent.

There was one message waiting. He stared at the screen for a time before finally opening it.

There wasn’t any actual text, but a Picture with a YouTube link. He stalled, but eventually took a chance and tapped the picture. A few things happened on his screen, which he didn’t understand, but selected ’yes’ whenever asked and eventually a video played and music leaked out of the tiny speaker.

Porcelain boy,

You break me, you break me,

I can see your heartbeat through your skin…

Christian sat on his bed, listening to the lyrics. When they finished he navigated his way back to messaging to type.

Chris: Is that your band?

This time the reply came back quickly.

Jazz: I wish. You like the song?

Chris: It’s different. Made me blush.

Jazz: Wish I could see that.

Christian bit his lip, feeling a familiar thrill that came with flirting.

Chris: Sorry about yesterday. It’s been a bit crazy here.

Jazz: You can make it up to me…

Christian hesitated then replied:

Chris: How?

Jazz: Meet me somewhere. You got time?

Chris: My schedule is pretty packed, but I have a lunch break sometimes. Can I let you know?

Jazz: Say when and I’ll be there, Porcelain boy.

It was such a good thing that no one saw him then, grinning like a fool and pressing the heels of hands into his eyes.

∞

Eddie proved that he wasn’t a fever dream.

He reappeared in their apartment. In fact, he made it clear that he intended to become a repeat offender, bursting through the door unannounced, with no particular concern for time of day. Christian assumed that he must have had a key made, because one time he arrived back from class to find Eddie reading a magazine on the couch. He didn’t even look up when Christian came in, only waved vaguely in the direction of the kitchen and saying “If you’re making coffee…”

At first Christian viewed this with trepidation, but being around Eddie for any length of time made it clear that the feeling was wasted. Most of the time, he forgot that he had only just met Eddie, and still knew very little about him. Eddie was loud and confident, larger than life almost; he smiled almost constantly, as if the world were something to laugh at.

Eddie became a feature of the apartment, and Christian was proud that he managed to accept it quite equably.

Laurel’s relationship with Eddie was not so congenial. Eddie made her livid, but she was too proud to admit to it enough to try and kick him out again. So they often ended up in verbal sparring matches, Laurel hurling not-so-veiled insults at him which he fielded with sarcasm and boredom. And although Brendan found it highly entertaining, Christian was, once again, beginning to feel the strain of being an unwilling Switzerland. Laurel still passive-aggressively blamed him for Eddie, and after a spat with him, she was usually impossible to be around.

Laurel’s biggest sore spot was that Eddie was a mystery. He wasn’t enigmatic, but he was deliberately vague about any information regarding himself. Christian didn’t really care, but to someone as irrevocably nosy as Laurel, it was impossible

“He could be anyone. He could be a drug dealer.” Laurel told Christian over the kitchen table one evening deliberately acting as if Eddie wasn’t there. Which he currently was.

“Nope. Too much maths. Can you imagine calculating all those numbers?” Eddie replied without batting an eyelash, staring attentively at his phone.

Laurel fumed in his direction. “We don’t even know if you go to college here. Maybe you’re just a loud, obnoxious bum with nowhere to live, and that’s why I can’t get your ass off my couch.”

“If I was poor, why would I keep spending what little money I have on stocking your pathetic larder?”

He had a point. Eddie never came over without some kind of delicious thing to eat or drink. When he learned Brendan liked to cook, he started bringing exotic ingredients and spices to liven up the meals. Probably because he usually joined them.

“No one asks you to.”

“Isn’t it nice, not to have to ask?”

Christian sipped his Madagascan brew, which Eddie had bought the previous week, in silence.

“So you go to college here? Same as us?” she pressed, determined to get this answer from him. If she could just get confirmation, she had a starting point. Christian thought she might be desperate enough to search the school database for his mugshot.

Eddie stayed stubbornly silent. Laurel stood up and went to the kitchen sink, ostentatiously pouring her coffee down the drain before retreating to her room once more. Christian sighed aloud. Eddie wasted no time, and went from slouched on the sofa to sitting in the chair she had vacated, his face now openly eager.

“So what’s the plan today, Chrissy?” he asked.

Christian was already shaking his head. “No way, I have work to do.”

Eddie’s face looked tragic. “Oh, come on. It’s barely Tuesday.”

Christian chuckled. “Class happens every day of the week.”

“Play hooky.”

“Not a chance. I like my course, I don’t plan to flunk it.”

Eddie sighed dramatically but perked up when the front door opened and revealed Brendan, carrying grocery bags. “Brother Bren! You have come to rescue us from our boredom.”

“Your boredom.” Christian corrected mildly.

Brendan held up the bags he was carrying. “I just came to make dinner.”

Christian wondered when it had become a given that Brendan did the cooking. Then he wondered when he had last been forced to eat noodles.

“Why do you guys keep bringing food? Do we look hungry?” he asked, directing the question at both of them.

Eddie looked at him with mock surprise. “Chrissy, we bring food because we’re hungry. If we’re gonna be here, we need to eat.”

“No one invited you!” Laurel’s voice shouted, but was muffled through her closed door. Eddie rolled his eyes, but noticed Christian’s pained look.

“Oh no, Chrissy, don’t tell me you agree with her,” He said.

Christian let his head roll slightly to the left, in a sort of half shake. “No, it’s not that. I like you being here.” Eddie nodded sagely at this, as if it were only logical. “But she really isn’t taking this well...” Christian trailed off, not wanting to point out that he was the one who had to deal with Laurel in the aftermath, not them.

Eddie watched him with a probing expression. “Does she give you a hard time?”

“No. Not directly. But you...” he tried again. “Come on, you antagonise her, and it drives her crazy! The fact that she doesn’t know anything about you makes her…difficult.” He said the last word delicately.

Eddie looked skyward, but sighed. “And after we’ve gone home to our comfy beds, you have to deal with Mount Vesuvius.”

Christian put a finger to his lips meaningfully, and Brendan, who was unpacking the shopping, sniggered.

Eddie sat back and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Oh alright. I’ll fix it.” he said, and stood to make his way over to Laurel’s door. He rapped on it three times.

“Your ladyship.”

“Fuck off, Eddie.”

“If I promise to give you the chance to unwrap the mystery that is Eddie, will you stop being an itchy bee?”

Silence, then her door opened a sliver. “What?”

“If I, Eddie, give you the opportunity to find out more about me, will you let up? Christian is wilting under your furious glare.” He indicated Christian, who put a hand over his face, already regretting his words.

But Laurel’s door opened some more. “What are you offering?”

Eddie stepped away from the door, beckoning her out. “A game.”