Oof, sorry this took so long to come out with! I got caught up with things, but I can finally dedicate myself to my writing.  Thank you for your patience!

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 Whizzer had one question to ask himself, and one question only. What the actual fuck was he doing?

Here he was, a double-major, sitting in a cafe shop across from Marvin Cohen, thirty minutes late to something he could've been on time to, because he forgot about his appointment while he was thrusting into that guy from last night.

Earlier, having been the impulsive piece of shit that he was, he grabbed the blue flyer, and then he showed it to Marvin, with a sick smile on his face. Sure, it was fun, especially what had happened concerning Marvin and the event, but it was stupid- Because he signed himself up for it, unofficially. And Whizzer never did anything halfway.

Besides, he had already been writing a poem, it was for a class, and music was really a poem set to music, right?

So they talked, and they talked about music theory, and all that neat stuff. Jokes were plentiful, and though Whizzer was initially disgusted (mostly by the tie), he found that Marvin was... an interesting sort of man.

When it came to an end, there was an odd feeling of melancholy, which was sickening. Feelings, disgusting pet peeves of being a human. 

"Thank you, for everything!" Whizzer smiled and took his pen out from his mouth, having chewed on the pen cap for the past hour and a half while he and Marvin worked in the chorus room. It was a bad habit, he supposed, but at least there wasn't any ink in his mouth. Now that would have been nasty.

For their first meeting ever, Whizzer was delighted to say that his 'mentor' wasn't so intolerable. Of course, there was an obvious lack of care and/or knowledge about fashion. The square time irked him, but that wasn't important at that moment, then, right? This man, Marvin Cohen, seemed to have enough knowledge about music theory to blurt out some nice chords that were perfect for the type of song Whizzer was going for.

He wrote them down, despite how much he hated writing down important information- But he needed to look engaged. Whizzer stood up, grabbing his leather jacket and slipping it on.

"No problem!" Answered Marvin, smiling softly at the slightly younger man. It seemed that likewise, he had impressed Marvin, which wasn't something he needed to acknowledge. He always impressed people, and he always left a impression. Whether it was good or bad- Well, it was memorable, at least.

Whizzer almost hesitated as he opened the door, letting his satchel slip slightly down his shoulder. He wondered, as if there was something else he could say before he left, but there wasn't, so he simply said a quick, "See you later!" before closing the chorus room door behind him.

The freshman straightened his shoulders as he left, letting out a deep breath he had not been aware of holding. He was not particularly unnerved by Marvin, but he found him interesting, slightly remarkable, in a way. Whizzer was unsure of how to place how he felt, he was pretty bad at explaining his emotions via words, but this time, the feeling he felt was somewhat describable in a way. He'd have to talk to Cordelia about him soon.

Whizzer didn't have any classes that beautiful Saturday, so he had the day all to himself, a perfect day to lament about how poor his housing was, rather than take action about it, and instead, whine.

"Seems like a good plan, huh?" He asked himself as he made his way out to the parking lot. As he twirled his keys around his finger, he was glad that his family hadn't left him completely on his own. At least he had a car, some form of transport, and the most faithful home he had. Not the best home, but the home that had always stuck with him.

He slid inside, running his fingers over the interior of the Honda, pushing the key into the ignition and letting out a deep breath. Whizzer knew that he had just met Marvin at a cafe, but he felt like his lunch ought to have been Starbucks and Chipotle, just because it was that type of that day.

So, after picking up his Starbucks and his Chipotle, he made his way to his apartment, determined to eat, nap and rant to Cordelia about how pathetic life in Pittsburgh was.

He never thought he'd be in Pittsburgh, but here he was. Attending one of those, highly esteemed liberal colleges that he knew his parents would've hated. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, but he knew he wanted to be famous, so he could rub it in his stupid father's face.

Improbable, they said. Improbable his ass.

He set his drink and food down on the nightstand, before tossing his phone on to the bed and grabbing his laptop.

His apartment was small, about 400 square feet of his own freedom. The walls were a violent shade of red. It fit a small kitchen and his bedroom. There was a bathroom too, but it was so small, it didn't matter in this description of the room.

The living room was not separate from the bedroom, which made it hard to have some private.. Sexy times when the gang was having an intense game night. Yet, another pro was that nobody got busy in his bedroom during frisky game nights. It was worn out, green. It smelled like an old lady, which was disturbing, since the owner of this apartment, Gloria, passed away a little less than four years ago.

He tried his best to make the apartment look good, but it was all a facade. The water didn't work sometimes, and he had grown accustomed to the cold showers and the cold in general. The gas, the lights, it was more flunctual than the weather. The apartment was below standard, but it was all Whizzer found himself able to afford, and he was much too proud of himself to resort to stripping- Though he knew he'd be amazing at it.

Now, why didn't he just get a dorm at the university? Wouldn't that have been cheaper?

To that, Whizzer responded with the fact that it was better he have some place to live permanently, rather than search for an apartment- or even worse, move back in with his parents- once summer break started.

No, he settled for this apartment and searched for a better apartment, one that he could share with a roommate, who hopefully wasn't so intolerable. But all of that was just hoping, most apartments he had checked out seemed slobbish in comparison to his, and he wasn't sure if he could tolerate them- So his once fervent search wasn't just so fervent anymore.

He settled on to his bed, about to reach for his chipotle, when his phone rang. The Spice Girls "Wannabe" was soon silenced by Whizzer's swiping of the green button, and he quickly switched to putting the sound on speaker.

"Hey, Cordelia!" he greeted, not unsurprised by her call. She always called, just to check in, like a good- no, an amazing friend did.

"Good afternoon, Whizzer!" the blonde said, in welcome of her friend. "You won't believe what happened today!"

Whizzer gasped, and smiled at the phone, he assumed it was time to talk about all the interesting things that affected them- Not that much really happened to them, or at least for Whizzer. "And you won't believe what happened to me! You go first!"

"No, you go!"

"No, you!"

"I insist!"

"Ladies first," he tsked.

"Chivalry is dead," she retorted.

"You started to tell me about your day first, so it's only fair that I wait." He huffed, tilting his head up, as if someone else was on the other side of the phone.

Cordelia whined, knowing that Whizzer would pester her until she finally gave in, and what a shame it would be if she made her or her friend upset over something so silly.

"Are you still looking for a new apartment?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied, a sort of excitement filling his chest.

"Well, my downstairs neighbor and friend, Mendel Weisenbachfeld, is in need of a roommate!"

Now, Mendel wasn't exactly the most tolerable person ever, but Cordelia had faith, perhaps too much, that both of her friends would find each other good enough to live with one another.

"Is that so?" the young man mused, a smirk on his thin lips. "I'll have to come over sometime, then. Send me his details?'

"Of course!" Cordelia beamed, glad to have helped a friend. "Now tell me what happened to you!"

"I met this guy today. And no, it wasn't a date." Whizzer started, then sighing. "You remember me telling you about that mentorship program I signed up for, right?"

"Ooh, yes!" Cordelia smiled brightly. "First encounter go okay?"

"It was good," he nodded. "I think he liked me. He liked me very much."

"Oh? Then he's a good teacher, then?"

\

"No duh," he rolled his eyes. "I mean, he liked my poetry, so he has good taste, in writing, at least. He was wearing this square tie, for God's sake!"

"By chance," Cordelia raised an eyebrow, smiling softly to herself. "This couldn't be Marvin Cohen, could it?'

Whizzer paused, setting his fork down and pursing his lips. Was that his last name? Yeah, that was his last name. "Yeah! Do you know him?"

"Yeah! He's my neighbor! You know, the one who always steals my sugar and never returns it."

Oh, him. Now this made everything more interesting. It was amazing just how small this world was. Such a world they lived in. No wonder his voice seemed so familiar, vaguely.

"Huh, interesting, isn't it?" Careful in his words, he made his next remark, " He's cute too, too bad he doesn't know how to dress, eh?"

"He's engaged, Whizzer," she chided and shook her head. "So you can't jus- Holy crap, my cookies!"

Through the speaker of his phone, Whizzer could hear the sound of a smoke alarm, beeping loudly and repeating the word, "Fire!" It seemed that Cordelia was preoccupied with her cookies, which were probably successfully burnt. How she didn't notice before the alarm went off, he didn't know. Thinking that it was better to hang up now and check on her later, he hung up.

Whizzer flopped down onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. So now, he now had his prior information on Marvin, along with a possible new apartment to look into. Cordelia was a great source of information that he didn't even know he needed. He smiled softly to himself, folding his arms behind his head.

Unsatisfied, was he, but he something to look forward to, as from this moment. Sure, he was single, and sure his apartment was shitty, but perhaps, his life could be something more than 'shitty.' It could be fucking amazing. 

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Next up in the prologue: Cordelia!

Like this story? Give a vote and leave a comment! I appreciate it a lot. 

-M