Chapter Text
If you asked James, he'd say he was pretty satisfied with his life thus far.
He wasn't unskilled by any means; he tended to jump between hobbies, picking up handy bits of information from each of his short-lived interests. But he wasn't extraordinary, either. James could live with that fact (despite complaints from his ego, though he would never admit it; he'd rather die than admit he was anything close to an egomaniac). "Jack of all trades, master of none" was a phrase all too familiar to him, but he was never offended by it. When someone needed him, he was there to do the job, and that was enough.
All in all, he was just your average Joe. A twenty-something engineering student, mildly attractive, grades barely above the standard not to flunk out. Truly, he could be passing his courses with flying colors, but the man preferred to cozy up in bed and indulge in whatever novel was next in his long, yet ever-growing reading list.
That, perhaps, was the only thing that stood out about him. His passion for books set him apart from the typical engineering major; while most of his peers would short-circuit if they had to read more than a paragraph, James would jump at the chance. As he scanned his eyes over the words on the page, the imagery described by them would conjure vividly in his mind, like a movie behind his eyelids. The best part was that he could tailor the images to his specific liking, easily surpassing the entertainment value he could ever get from a movie - instead of complaining about poor cinematography by some random director, if the lighting or angle wasn't satisfactory in his mind's eye, he could change it to his idea of perfection with just the firing of a neuron. His brain could evoke emotions of which he had never experienced in the real world. It was like a drug.
And, despite his humble exterior, if he had a little bit of a superiority complex to his functionally illiterate classmates, so be it.
He shared a dorm with his friend Thomas - well, friend wasn't exactly the right word; at first they hated each other's guts, but the close proximity inevitably made them tolerate each other. They still fought often, considering how Thomas had an irritatingly optimistic, happy-go-lucky personality and James the opposite. But James would rather not go through the trouble of requesting a dorm change, so he had to make do.
There was a jingling of keys and a small click outside before the door to the dorm opened. James looked up from his novel, casting a glance at the door to see his roommate.
His very obviously drunk off his ass roommate.
"Look what the cat dragged in," James jested, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, shut it," Thomas groaned, hobbling his way into the dorm and shutting the door behind him. "Let a guy have fun, will you?"
This wasn't a rare occurrence for Thomas. His extroverted personality naturally lead to him making the most of his college years in the form of partygoing and day drinking. Unfortunately, James was always the one who had to clean up after Thomas's messes, literally or figuratively - wiping the contents of the other's stomach off the floor when he had a little too much to drink was not a one-time incident.
"It may be fun for you, but it's not fun for me when I have to babysit you because you have no damn self control."
"I didn't ask you to babysit me," Thomas countered. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself-" the tail of his sentence ending in a yelp as he tripped over the shoe rack and nearly fell on his ass.
James scoffed.
"Point not proven."
"At least I'm not spending my time holed up in this shitty dorm reading whatever the fuck you read," the shorter man said, "probably Shakespeare or some bullshit," muttering that last bit to himself. James could tell the words had no malice behind them.
This back-and-forth was practically part of their daily routine. James had actually begun to enjoy their banter. Of course, he would never admit that to Thomas.
Thomas managed to make his way to his bed, placed against the wall opposite from James's, where he was currently laying. He not-so-elegantly flopped himself onto the sheets, enjoying the comfort after what James could assume was a long day of tearing up the dance floor. He chuckled to himself at the thought.
"Hey," Thomas started.
James looked over with a questioning expression and tilted his head, motioning Thomas to continue.
Thomas had a devious smile on his face. James shut his eyes - nothing good was to come from this.
"I have an opportunity for you." Thomas sat up, criss-crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hands with a smirk.
"What are you on about now?" James grumbled, interrupting the other.
"So I met this guy at the party, right? He was, like, super nerdy and shit. Totally your type."
James choked on his own spit, sitting up in the bed at the mention of his long dead dating life.
To tell the truth, James hadn't cared much about dating. Sure, he had a few casual relationships with some girls at his old high school, but it was never anything serious - James didn't even know if he liked the girls he dated, choosing only to go out with them after being pressured by his friend group to "be a real man." But, since college started, he had no interest in finding a lover. He was too busy to even consider it. Besides, his books were more than enough to satisfy him.
"Are you seriously trying to set me up-" James began to protest, but was interrupted.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Thomas laughed obnoxiously, the alcohol having pretty much killed all his inhibitions. "Didn't mean to strike a nerve."
James rolled his eyes for probably the tenth time that night.
"Anyway," Thomas continued, amused, "he started talking to me about who-knows-what and gave me this flyer for a book club of all things, and I was like, 'you've got the wrong guy.' So I told him about my super nerdy bookworm roommate."
Thomas stood up, or tried his best to do so, and outstretched a hand to James with a piece of paper. James assumed was the flyer. He took the crinkled paper, which had seen better days - he imagined Thomas stuffing the thing into his pocket without a care for its condition.
Thomas sat back down with a thump.
"Poor guy seemed pretty desperate for members. I mean, who even goes to a book club in college?" he snorted, "so I told him I'd give this to you if he bought me a drink."
James stared at him in disbelief. "You're despicable."
"You know I'd do anything for a drink," he said, winking.
James glanced over the paper.
Edward's Book Club
Wednesdays from 17:00-19:00
Bring snacks!
"This sounds like some elementary school shit," James muttered to himself. He put the paper on his nightstand, disregarding it.
"Get yourself cleaned up," James ended the conversation by scolding Thomas. "It's late and you look like shit."
Thomas threw his hands up in surrender and trodded off to the bathroom, listening to James for once in his life.
Only a few minutes later and the two of them were cozy in their beds in their pajamas. James, of course, was partaking in his nightly ritual of finishing two chapters of his book before he would commit himself to sleep.
However, tonight, he couldn't focus on the words on the page no matter what. There was something nagging at the back of his mind that he just couldn't get rid of.
He put away the book and shut his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep, but James found himself thinking about the flyer on his nightstand.
James wasn't really the social type, but even he had noticed the effects his lack of socialization had on his mental state.
Wednesdays from 17:00-19:00
Maybe this is what he needed.