Chapter 9: I’m Living With a Human Rulebook
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"Yeah, yeah, I know," he waved it off like he was used to smoothing over awkward timing. "Basically, the guy who had this room originally paid for the whole year up front. But I called in a favor from him because I helped him out a while back. He was about to get kicked out of school—long story, details don’t matter. Anyway, he agreed to let you take the space while he moves to Kaplan Hall."
The name registered faintly in my mind.
Kaplan Hall wasn’t Preston Hall, but it made my earlier thoughts about money feel even more ridiculous.
Whoever this person was, the one who casually agreed to swap one pricey room for another as a favor...seemed like the kind of person who never had to think twice about what things cost.
He was loaded, then.
Unbelievably, effortlessly so.
Joey shifted his weight and lowered his voice like people do when they want to be careful but not overly cautious.
"Just keep your behavior in check, okay?"
I looked at him, honestly unsure for a moment.
"My best behavior?"
Of course I’d be on my best behavior, what did he take me for? A menace?
Then he’d be right because while I seemed quiet, cold, aloof and hot tempered on the outside, I was secretly a complete menace who had my fair share of shenanigans.
He nodded, as if it were perfectly clear what that meant instead of deeply vague.
"I know Damien isn’t exactly... warm," he said, clearly choosing his words with care. "And I know you didn’t exactly kick things off well the first time you met. Pretty sure something was said, something that landed wrong...so I’m just saying: don’t make it worse. Let it go, whatever it was."
I blinked slowly. "I’m sorry, but what exactly did I do?"
Joey shot me a look that communicated a lot, none of it flattering. "That’s not the point."
"It feels like the point," I shot back.
He ignored that too, which had become a recurring theme in our conversation, and forced a short laugh meant to lighten the mood but only somewhat succeeded.
"I know he can be tough," he said quietly now, dropping the easy energy for something more sincere. "But just for this once, let it go. For me."
I rolled my eyes and chose silence because I didn’t have the energy to unpack whatever version of me existed in Damien’s mind or argue with Joey about whether that version was fair.
He lingered a moment longer, something obvious behind his expression, a thought he was weighing whether to share, a concern he wasn’t sure how to voice...but whatever it was, he kept it to himself, looking at me for a second with a mix of reassurance and worry, the usual blend he had when leaving a situation he didn’t fully trust.
Then he sighed, nodded once like he was confirming a decision he’d already made, and moved toward the door.
"Call me if anything blows up," he said from the threshold.
"No promises," I replied.
The door clicked shut.
And just like that, the apartment changed.
It was just me now.
And Damien.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind Joey, I could feel a shift in the room that was hard to ignore, even if I wished I could.
It wasn’t loud, and nothing in the room changed, but the whole atmosphere felt heavier, almost like the space itself had let go of the warmth Joey brought with him and settled back into something colder, more controlled. The lighting still had that soft, warm glow against the shiny surfaces, but now it felt distant, as if it belonged to the room rather than the people in it.
Then, cue the awkward silence.
Definitely not the cozy kind of silence where you can relax without thinking, or the comfortable quiet shared between good friends who don’t need to fill every second with noise. No, this silence felt planned, almost like it had been intentionally woven into the fabric of the apartment, like everything else. It had a weight to it.
I shifted my weight a bit, adjusting my grip on the shirt I was holding while I looked around again, trying to grasp that I was really standing there in this place, like it wasn’t some mistake waiting to be corrected. Everything felt so intentional. So curated. Even the air seemed arranged just so.
Then Damien moved first.
I caught it in my peripheral vision, the slight lift of his hand, not enough to really catch anyone’s eye, but deliberate enough when he pointed to a section of the room, as if staking a claim rather than just offering it. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was like he had made this decision long before I ever got there.
"You can take that space," he said.
His tone was flat, controlled, completely neutral in a way that felt colder than outright hostility. It was the voice of someone who had already set a value on this interaction, and apparently, it was low.
No greeting, not even a formal introduction. No hint of anything that resembled normal human interaction.
I stared at the spot he’d pointed to for a moment, then let out a breath through my nose, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
"Thanks," I said, trying to keep my tone light enough to sound polite, even if it felt mostly automatic. My eyes drifted around the room again, taking in the polished surfaces and perfectly arranged furniture, still feeling that unsettling quiet settling in my chest.
"This place is... really nice."
Damien didn’t even look up.
He had already moved over to the desk on the other side of the room, his focus shifting smoothly to a stack of thick, neatly aligned books that looked more like something out of a private library than a student dorm.
He pulled one closer, flipping it open effortlessly, as if I had become irrelevant the moment I stopped talking. Like acknowledging me was just a box he’d checked off and moved on from.
"Obviously," he shot back.
The word landed like a clean cut, sharp and clear, as if the conversation had wrapped up before I even finished speaking.
I blinked, letting out a quiet breath, turning away before I let irritation show on my face.
Fucking jerk.
I didn’t dare say it out loud, though.
Instead, I went back to my bag, crouching down to unpack the last of my things, placing them in a space that felt too pristine to be mine. A yawn escaped me suddenly, wide and involuntary, my body catching up with the exhaustion I’d been ignoring all day. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, blinking the blur out of my eyes.
Minutes went by in relative silence, disrupted only by the soft rustle of fabric and occasional page turn from behind me. I tried to ignore how aware I was of Damien’s presence, and how heavy the quiet felt with someone else in it who clearly didn’t care to share.
𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
It felt almost performative how thoroughly he was ignoring me, like he was putting effort into pretending I wasn’t there.
Then, without warning, his movements changed.
I glanced up just in time to see Damien reach across his desk, picking up a single sheet of paper with that same careful precision he applied to everything else. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer context or explanation, just made his way across the space between us with that casual pace and held it out to me.
I took it slowly, my brows knitting together in confusion before I even looked down.
"What’s this?" I asked, already suspecting that it wasn’t going to be anything normal.
Of course, he didn’t reply, so I looked.
The paper was clean, neatly printed, every line spaced just so as if whoever wrote it cared as much about how it looked as what it actually said. I scanned the first few lines, then the next, and then I went back to the top, just to make sure I hadn’t missed something.
1. Do not use each other’s belongings
2. No crossing into each other’s space.
3. No unnecessary noise.
4. No physical contact.
5. No attempts at friendship or personal connection.
6. Mind your own business.
7. No parties.
8. No unapproved guests.
Like damn... okay.