The campus looked the same as any other—tall buildings, crowded walkways, students lost in their own worlds. But for Xerxes Raven, this place was different. A fresh start. No history. No rumors. No one whispering his name before he even stepped through the gates.
Good. That was exactly how he wanted it.
As he adjusted the strap of his backpack, a random student bumped into his shoulder, hard. No apology. No acknowledgment. Just kept walking like Xerxes wasn't even there.
Xerxes exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching for just a second before he let it go. Old habits. A year ago, I wouldn't have let that slide.
This time, there'd be no unnecessary fights, no old rivals trying to drag him back into the mess he left behind. He wasn't here to prove anything. He was here to graduate—peacefully, without distractions.
Still, his instincts kicked in. His eyes followed the guy for a moment, sizing him up. Who carries themselves like they know how to fight? Who has something to prove?
Not his problem. Not anymore.
Xerxes adjusted his backpack again and smirked to himself. A new school meant a clean slate. As long as no one gives me a reason to break the peace, this should be easy.
He kept walking, shaking off the minor annoyance. The campus buzzed with life—students chatting in small groups, some lounging under trees, others hurrying to their next class. Everything felt normal. New. Unfamiliar.
Then, as he turned a corner near the courtyard, he spotted the same guy who had bumped into him earlier. This time, he was with a group.
They stood in a loose circle, talking and laughing. The guy seemed right at home, joking around with them like they were all good friends. One of them playfully shoved his shoulder, laughter rippling through the group. It didn't look like much—just typical college banter. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Xerxes barely spared them a second glance. Not my business. And I plan to keep it that way.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Xerxes moved through his classes, keeping to himself, ignoring the occasional curious glances. No fights. No problems. Just the way he wanted it.
By the time the final lecture ended, the sky had started shifting to a deeper shade of orange. Students poured out of the buildings, some heading home, others gathering in groups to hang out. Xerxes had no interest in either.
He stepped outside the campus gates, pulling out a cigarette as he leaned against a nearby wall. The first drag was slow, letting the familiar burn settle in his lungs. A small ritual. A moment of peace before heading home.
Then, a voice cut through the street noise.
"Dick's paying for everything!"
Xerxes exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his eyes shifting toward the commotion. Near a food stall across the street, a group of students stood around a table, laughing. One of them, a guy with a cocky grin, jabbed a finger toward someone at the end of the stall.
Xerxes recognized him immediately—the same guy who had bumped into him earlier.
The guy tensed for a split second before forcing a laugh, reaching for his wallet like this was normal. The others grinned, exchanging amused glances.
Xerxes took another drag of his cigarette. That hesitation. So he's not used to this.
Flicking ash onto the pavement, he turned away.
The Second Day
Xerxes moved through the crowded campus with an unhurried pace—until he glanced at his phone. Five minutes late.
"Shit," he muttered, picking up his pace. He had no interest in being the center of attention on his second day, but here he was, already running behind.
As he reached the lecture hall, he exhaled sharply and raised his hand, knocking three times before pushing the door open.
The quiet hum of the lecture died down as all eyes turned to him. He barely acknowledged the other students, his gaze locking onto the professor instead.
She was young—probably only a few years older than him—with sharp eyes that held no patience for nonsense. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You're five minutes late."
Xerxes smirked as he casually slid his hands into his pockets. Alright, time to make an impression.
"Yeah, I got lost… in the thought of how lucky I am to have a professor this stunning."
A few students snickered. Someone muttered, "This guy's got guts."
The professor blinked, clearly unimpressed. Then, instead of scolding him, she sighed and shook her head. "Flattery won't make up for lost time, Mr…?"
"Xerxes Raven," he answered smoothly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
"Well, Mr. Raven, since you enjoy talking, why don't you summarize what I just covered?"
Damn. Should've seen that coming.
Xerxes smirked and took a step toward the board, but before he could do anything, the professor gestured toward the seats. "Just take your seat."
Instead of listening, Xerxes grabbed a piece of chalk. Without hesitation, he started writing as he spoke, breaking down the summary with ease. However, his handwriting was an absolute disaster—crooked, uneven, and borderline unreadable.
The class stared at the board, squinting at the mess of letters and symbols. Someone whispered, "Is that even English?"
The professor pinched the bridge of her nose. "You do realize the goal is for people to actually read what you wrote, right?"
Xerxes glanced at the board, tilted his head slightly, then shrugged. "Looks fine to me."
A few students snickered again.
The professor sighed, clearly debating whether to be annoyed or entertained. Finally, she nodded. "Well… at least the answer is correct. Now, go sit down—and next time, leave the writing to someone who doesn't hold a grudge against the alphabet."
Xerxes smirked, dropped the chalk, and strolled toward an empty seat, sinking into it with his usual relaxed posture.
Yeah… this class was definitely going to be interesting.
As the lecture wrapped up, students began packing their things. A few stretched lazily in their seats, while others quickly gathered their notebooks, eager to leave.
"Goodbye, Ms. Laurent!" one student called out.
"See you next time, Ma'am Ivy," another chimed in.
Some stuck to formality, saying "Goodbye, Professor Laurent," while others were more casual with "Later, Ms. Laurent."
Professor Laurent barely acknowledged them, giving a small nod as she gathered her materials and exited the room with the same composed aura she carried from the start.
The moment the door clicked shut, a few students turned toward Xerxes, grinning.
"Man, that was bold," one of them chuckled. "Flirting with Professor Laurent on day two? You got a death wish or something?"
Another laughed. "Nah, dude's got confidence. Respect."
A couple of nerdier students approached, clearly more impressed by his quick summary than his charm.
"That was a solid answer," one of them said, adjusting his glasses. "You didn't even hesitate."
"Yeah, but your handwriting is atrocious," another added. "Seriously, do you write with your left foot?"
Xerxes smirked, leaning back in his chair. "I got the job done. That's what matters."
Then, a voice cut through the chatter.
"Well, well, looks like we've got ourselves a Romeo in class."
Xerxes turned toward the source and found himself looking at Seraphina Cross.
Business Administration major. Confident posture. Cool expression. There was something sharp about the way she observed people—like she was always two steps ahead in a conversation before it even started.
She smirked, arms crossed as she leaned against a nearby desk. "Flirting with the professor on your first week? Bold move, Romeo."
Xerxes chuckled, tilting his head. "What can I say? I like making an impression."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "Oh, you definitely did."
Xerxes leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just enough to sound playful. "Since I'm Romeo now… what do you say, Seraphina? You wanna be my Juliet?"
Oh yeah, that was bold. Maybe too bold.
Silence. Then—
"OOOHHHHHHH!" The entire class erupted.
Welp. No going back now.
Some students whistled, others shouted, and a few banged on their desks like they were watching a live show.
"NO WAY!" someone gasped.
"Did he just—?"
"Bro really just dropped that line like it was nothing!"
A few girls covered their faces, second-hand embarrassment written all over them. Some guys gawked, jaws hanging open like they had just witnessed something legendary.
Meanwhile, Seraphina's confident smirk wavered—just for a fraction of a second. A quiet chuckle slipped from her lips, and the faintest shade of pink dusted her cheeks before she quickly turned her head, pretending to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
But Xerxes saw it.
She cleared her throat, regaining her composure, and met his gaze again. "Hmm… tempting," she said, arms still crossed. "But last I checked, Romeo and Juliet both died at the end."
The crowd lost it again.
"OOHHH, SHE GOT HIM!"
"FATALITY!"
Even Xerxes let out a small chuckle, impressed by how fast she shot back.
He smirked, resting his chin on his hand. "Guess I'll have to rewrite the ending then."
Seraphina exhaled through her nose, shaking her head as if amused. "You do that, Romeo."
The nickname caught on instantly. Someone in the back grinned. "Yeah, Romeo fits."
Another nodded. "Perfect name for him."
Xerxes just smirked, shaking his head. He had a feeling this name was going to stick.
And somehow… he didn't really mind.
He stretched his arms lazily, exhaling as he muttered to himself, "Well… that was fun."
And he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time.
The energy in the room slowly settled as students grabbed their bags, some still sneaking glances at Xerxes while whispering among themselves. A few of them chuckled as they passed by, shaking their heads in amusement.
"See you around, Romeo," one guy teased before heading out.
Another student patted him on the shoulder. "Man, you just made this class ten times more entertaining."
Xerxes glanced over his shoulder, spotting a guy approaching him—one he immediately recognized. The same guy who had bumped into him the day before without a word.
The guy grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Name's Dick. Dick Ryder."
Silence.
Xerxes blinked. His lips pressed together. His shoulders tensed. His entire body fought the urge to react.
Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh.
He sucked in a slow breath through his nose, nodding like he was processing it normally. But the moment he opened his mouth—
"Pffft—"
A barely contained snort slipped out. He immediately covered his mouth, clearing his throat as if that would erase the sound.
Dick groaned. "Oh, come on."
Xerxes waved a hand, struggling to keep a straight face. "No, no, man, I swear, I'm good. It's just—" He exhaled sharply, lips twitching. "Dick Ryder?"
Dick rolled his eyes. "Yes. Dick Ryder. Get it out of your system now."
Xerxes inhaled deeply, composing himself—only for a new thought to hit him. He pointed at Dick, barely holding it together. "So yesterday, you literally rode into me without a word—"
Dick gave him a deadpan stare. "Don't."
"And now you're telling me your name is—"
"Xerxes, I swear—"
"Dick Ryder."
That was it. Xerxes lost it. A full, deep laugh escaped him as he leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. A few students who were still in the hallway turned to look, confused but entertained.
Dick crossed his arms, waiting. "You done?"
Xerxes exhaled, wiping the corner of his eye. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good now." He straightened up, flashing a smirk. "I just wasn't prepared, man. That name's a ride all on its own."
Dick sighed, shaking his head. "You're an idiot."
Xerxes grinned. "Maybe. But at least I don't introduce myself like I belong in a… certain category of videos."
Dick groaned, rubbing his temples. "You're never letting this go, are you?"
"Not a chance."
With that, Xerxes slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the lecture hall, still grinning.
Day two, and it just kept getting better.
As Sera and her friend walked along the school pathways, the teasing began almost immediately.
"So... Juliet, huh?" her friend drawled, nudging her playfully.
Sera scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, shut up."
Her friend wasn't letting it go. "You blushed. I saw it. Don't even try to deny it."
"I did not," Sera argued, but the warmth creeping back to her face betrayed her.
Her friend gasped dramatically. "Oh my God, you totally did! Sera, do you have a thing for our new Romeo?"
Sera groaned. "I do not. He's just—" She paused, searching for the right word.
"Charming? Smooth? A little too confident for his own good?"
Sera clicked her tongue. "Annoying."
Her friend smirked. "Mmmhmm. Sure."
Before Sera could respond, they reached the front gate, where another one of their friends was waiting, casually snacking on some street food. She glanced up as they approached, immediately noticing Sera's slightly flushed face.
"What's up with her?" she asked, popping another bite into her mouth.
Her friend grinned mischievously. "Oh, just had a little Romeo and Juliet moment in class."
Sera let out an exasperated sigh. This was going to haunt her for days.
As Xerxes and Dick left the lecture hall later that day, a group of students rushed past him, grabbing Dick Ryder and pulling him into their circle. Xerxes' gaze lingered for a moment. The way Dick's shoulders tensed, the forced grin—it was obvious.
Bullies.
Xerxes sighed, shaking his head. "Not my problem," he muttered to himself. "I barely know the guy. No reason to get involved." He had enough on his plate without adding someone else's problems to the mix.
He turned on his heel and walked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets. But the scene gnawed at him. It reminded him of things he didn't want to think about. Things he had buried.
Xander.
His twin brother's name echoed in his mind, unwanted, unshakable. The way those groups circled their prey, the forced smiles, the way they laughed with you—until they weren't. He'd seen it before. He'd seen it happen to Xander.
Still, he kept walking. "Not my business. Not my fight."
And he planned to keep it that way.
By early afternoon, he was done with classes. As he exited the campus, he let his thoughts wander. "Two hours just to get home? That's four hours wasted every damn day. Screw that." He needed a place nearby—something cheap, something quiet. "Not a dorm. No way I'm sharing a space with some loud, messy stranger." A part-time job wouldn't hurt either. "Bills won't pay themselves. Not unless I suddenly develop the ability to conjure money out of thin air."
His eyes flickered over the students around him. A couple walking hand in hand—he smirked. "Bet they met last week and already think it's true love."
A tall guy with a curved back shuffled past. "Man's carrying the weight of the world."
Then, the so-called gangs—acting like they ran the place. A year or two ago, he'd have knocked them aside just for the hell of it. Now? Not worth it.
As he exited the campus gates, Xerxes pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a slow flick of his lighter. He took a long drag, exhaling as he stepped onto the nearby streets. His eyes scanned the buildings, muttering under his breath, "For rent, for rent, for rent..." like a broken record in his head. But every sign he spotted wasn't for rent—it was a hiring part-time job sign instead.
He let out a dry chuckle. "Guess the universe wants me working instead of sleeping."
His gaze flickered around as he walked. A couple giggling at a cafe? "Give it a month before one of them cheats." A group of guys smoking near the fence, pretending to be untouchable? "Used to be me. Now? Just another waste of time."
He smirked to himself, shaking his head. "Let's apply for this part-time job. Not like I have anything better to do… right?"
Xerxes pushed open the café door, a small bell jingling overhead. The scent of coffee and fresh pastries filled the air, blending with the low hum of conversation from a few customers scattered around. A couple sat by the window, sharing a dessert, while a lone student typed furiously on their laptop in the corner.
Behind the counter, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly pressed apron glanced up. His sharp eyes quickly sized Xerxes up before offering a nod. "Here for coffee?"
"Actually," Xerxes said, sliding his hands into his pockets, "I saw the 'hiring' sign outside. Figured I'd give it a shot."
The man studied him for a moment before shrugging. "You got any experience?"
Xerxes smirked. "If punching people in the face counted, I'd be overqualified."
The owner burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Not sure how useful that'd be around here, but at least you're honest." He leaned against the counter, still chuckling. "You a student?"
"Yeah. Just transferred."
"Good. I only hire students." The man extended a hand. "Name's Marco. I own this place."
Xerxes shook his hand, his grip firm but easy. "Xerxes."
Marco nodded in approval. "Alright, Xerxes. You can start tomorrow evening. We'll see if you can handle the rush."
Xerxes arched a brow. That was easy. No long interview, no pointless formalities. Just straight to the point. He liked that.
"Works for me," he said. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "By the way… you wouldn't happen to know any cheap places for rent, would you? I need a spot nearby—one-bedroom, no roommates."
Marco raised an eyebrow. "Not a fan of dorm life?"
Xerxes smirked. "I like my space."
Marco exhaled thoughtfully, then tilted his head toward the back. "Actually, I do have a place. Just a few blocks away. One-bedroom unit, only for students. Twenty bucks a month."
Xerxes blinked. "You serious?"
Marco smirked. "You interested or not?"
"For twenty bucks? Hell yeah, I'm interested."
Marco pulled a key from under the counter and slid it across. "Go check it out. If you like it, it's yours. Just don't wreck the place."
Xerxes picked up the key, rolling it between his fingers. "You always make business deals this fast?"
Marco chuckled. "Only when I've got a good read on someone. And you? You look like you won't bring trouble to my doorstep." He then narrowed his eyes. "That, and I'd rather not rent to the usual loudmouths looking to throw parties every weekend."
Xerxes grinned. "Can't argue with that."
With the key in hand and a job starting tomorrow, things were lining up surprisingly well. Maybe this new start wouldn't be so bad after all.
Xerxes stepped through the doorway, took one look around, and immediately shouted,
"Fucking hell!"
Dust exploded into the air with every step he took, cobwebs dangled like forgotten decorations, and something in the corner looked like it had died a long time ago. The walls were stained, the ceiling had a suspicious-looking crack, and the floor? He wasn't even sure what color it was supposed to be under all that grime.
"It's a fucking mess!" he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "No wonder it's twenty bucks! I thought I got lucky—this is a goddamn nightmare!"
He kicked an empty can out of his way, watching as it rattled across the floor before disappearing under a broken-down couch. For a split second, he actually considered walking out. Maybe a shared dorm wouldn't be so bad after all…
But then, he sighed.
"Nah, screw it," he muttered. "It's still a roof over my head."
Rolling up his sleeves, he cracked his knuckles and smirked to himself. "Alright, you piece of shit house. Let's see what you look like when I'm done with you."
Xerxes took one last look at the disaster he was supposed to call home and shook his head. "Yeah, nah. Not tonight."
He turned on his heel and walked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. The night air was cool against his skin, a welcome change from the dust-filled nightmare he just escaped. He had no classes tomorrow, which meant he had all day to fix that damn place.
"I'll call Yuan in the morning," he muttered to himself. "Two sets of hands are better than one… That kitchen's gotta go first. Who the hell leaves a fridge unplugged with food still in it? And those floors—shit, I need a mop, bleach, maybe a whole exorcist."
Xerxes took a deep drag from his cigarette, letting the nicotine calm his nerves as he walked down the quiet street. His mind was still stuck on that rundown excuse of a house.
"Fucking hell… twenty bucks for that?" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I should've known it was too good to be true. The place looks like it survived a damn war."
He took another drag, rolling the cigarette between his fingers. "First thing tomorrow—cleaning. Then repairs. Might need to bribe Yuan with food so he actually helps. Walls need a fresh coat of paint. If I move the bed frame—wait, does it even have a bed frame?—I can make some space. Good thing I've still got cash from my last job. Should be enough to—"
He stopped mid-step when he heard it.
A dull thud. A muffled grunt. The unmistakable sound of a foot meeting flesh.
Xerxes turned his head toward the alley ahead of him, eyes narrowing as he listened.
"You got a death wish, huh?" A rough voice sneered. "Talk back to us again, I dare you."
Another hit. A stifled groan.
Xerxes glancing from the corner of his eye. Under the dim streetlight, he spotted them—three guys surrounding a fourth on the ground. And the one eating dirt? Dick.
"Say whatever you want about me," Dick's voice was strained but steady. "But don't talk shit about my mom."
Xerxes took another slow inhale from his cigarette. He heard every word, but his feet didn't stop moving.
Not his problem.
Not tonight.
Even when Dick briefly locked eyes with him, Xerxes just kept walking.
He wasn't walking away because he was scared. He knew damn well he could drop those guys if he wanted to. But he wasn't here to play hero.
And yet, something gnawed at him. Not because of Dick. But because of who the scene reminded him of.
Xander.
A flicker of irritation crossed his face. He clicked his tongue, taking another drag to push down the memory.
"Tch. Annoying."
He kept walking, exhaling smoke into the night air.
Xerxes flicked the half-burnt cigarette away as he walked down the dimly lit street, hands in his pockets. His mind was a storm, still replaying what he saw in the alley.
Dick getting beat down.
Those bastards are laughing.
He clenched his jaw, inhaling sharply through his nose.
It annoyed him—not because he felt bad for the guy, but because it brought back memories of Xander.
"Forget it," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Not my problem."
Still, the irritation lingered, sticking to his skin like sweat. He needed to clear his head.
Xerxes pulled out his phone and called Yuan.
After a few rings, the line clicked.
"What now?" Yuan's voice was groggy, clearly annoyed.
"You home?" Xerxes asked.
"Where else would I be at—" Yuan suddenly stopped mid-sentence. There was a faint rustling noise, followed by a sleepy female voice in the background.
"Mmm… who is it, babe?"
Xerxes smirked. "You with Rose right now?"
Silence. Then, Yuan cleared his throat. "Uh—no. What are you talking about?"
"Didn't know she moved in."
"She didn't!" Yuan snapped, but the muffled sound of Rose's laughter in the background ruined his attempt at denial.
Xerxes chuckled. "Right. Anyway, I need your help with something."
"Not happening."
"You don't even know what it is yet."
"I don't need to. It's always trouble with you."
"This one's different. It's about a house."
Another pause. Then, Yuan groaned. "Damn it, X. You always call at the worst time."
Rose's voice chimed teasingly, "Is it your scary cousin?"
Xerxes grinned. "She's got good instincts."
"Shut up," Yuan muttered. "What do you want?"
"I'll explain when I get there."
"The hell you will—"
"See you in twenty."
Before Yuan could argue, Xerxes hung up, smirking as he pocketed his phone.
Xerxes let out a deep sigh as he stepped into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes before turning on the cold water. The icy stream hit his skin, sending a jolt through his body, but it helped wash away the lingering irritation. He ran a hand through his wet hair, eyes shutting as thoughts flooded his mind.
"Fucking hell... Why does this crap keep happening?" he muttered under his breath. His fists clenched at his sides as he recalled the scene in the alley. The way Dick was getting beaten down, the words they hurled at him—it all dug up memories he'd rather keep buried.
Should he step in? Or should he just walk away, like he promised himself? He wasn't some hero. He wasn't trying to be one. But damn it, why did it piss him off so much?
He exhaled sharply, letting the cold water numb his thoughts. "Not my problem," he told himself. "Not this time."
After his shower, Xerxes got dressed and headed out. He lit a cigarette as he walked, letting the smoke swirl around him while his thoughts drifted back to the mess of a house he had to fix. Before going to Yuan's house, he stopped by a convenience store to grab another pack—he had a feeling he'd need it. When he arrived, he knocked on the door, and after a moment, it swung open.
Rose stood there, a warm smile on her face. "Oh, hey, Xerxes. Yuan's in the kitchen."
Xerxes stepped inside and immediately caught the smell of fried chicken filling the air. He walked to the kitchen to see Yuan at the stove, flipping a piece of crispy golden chicken in the pan.
"Damn, cooking this late? You guys must've had some 'more important business' earlier, huh?" Xerxes said with a smirk.
Rose turned red, and Yuan shot him a glare. "Shut up and sit down, dumbass. You want some chicken or not?"
Xerxes laughed as he took a seat. "Hell yeah, I want some. Just don't tell me what y'all were up to before this. I might lose my appetite."
As they ate, Yuan reached into the fridge and pulled out a can of beer, waving it at Xerxes with a smirk. "Want a beer?"
Xerxes shook his head. "Nah, I like coffee more than beer."
Yuan chuckled. "Figures. Alright, wait here." He got up and started making a cup of coffee.
Rose stared at him, baffled. "You're seriously making coffee? At this hour?"
Xerxes smirked. "What? Coffee doesn't have a curfew."
Yuan laughed as he handed him the mug. "Man's got caffeine in his veins instead of blood."
Rose sighed. "And here I thought you were at least a little normal."
Xerxes took a sip, grinning. "Normal's boring."
Yuan leaned forward, grinning. "Alright, tell me about this legendary house of yours. How bad is it?"
Xerxes let out a long, dramatic sigh and leaned back in his chair. "Bad? Bro, I walked in, and I swear to God, I thought I stepped into a horror movie. You ever see those abandoned houses where people do ghost hunts? That's my house—but worse, 'cause at least those places got history. Mine? Just straight-up neglect."
Yuan chuckled. "C'mon, it can't be that bad."
Xerxes sat up, eyes wide. "Oh, can't it?! The moment I opened the door, a dust cloud hit me so hard I nearly saw my ancestors. I sneezed like I was casting a damn spell. And the furniture? Looks like someone lost a WWE match against it and just left it to die."
Rose laughed. "Okay, but what about the smell? It can't be that bad, right?"
Xerxes slapped the table. "Rose. ROSE. You ever leave food in the fridge for too long? Imagine that, but the fridge has been unplugged since the dinosaurs went extinct. I stepped in, took one breath, and had an out-of-body experience."
Yuan wheezed. "Damn, bro, did the house personally attack you or what?"
"YES!" Xerxes exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "It's haunted! But not by ghosts—by regret! You know how many students are looking for cheap housing? And nobody took this place. I thought I was the chosen one, man. Twenty bucks for a whole house? I was ready to flex! But nooo, turns out I just got scammed by an old man with a great poker face!"
Yuan wiped away tears from laughing. "Damn, bro, you got finessed so bad."
Xerxes groaned, rubbing his face. "I played myself, man. Thought I was about to live like a king. Instead, I got a house that's one strong breeze away from collapsing."
Yuan smirked. "So, what's the plan? Gonna live in it as is? Just embrace the goblin lifestyle?"
Xerxes cracked his knuckles. "Hell no. That's why I need your help. We're fixing that hellhole up. First thing tomorrow, we're getting in there and making sure I don't die of tetanus."
Yuan stretched his arms. "Alright, alright. Someone's gotta make sure you don't get swallowed by the floorboards. Just don't cry when we find something cursed in there."
Xerxes took a deep breath. "If we do, I'm selling the place to the next dumbass who thinks they got a good deal."
After Rose cleared the dishes, Xerxes stayed quiet, staring down at his coffee. Yuan noticed the shift in his cousin's mood, the way his jaw was set tight, his shoulders slightly tense. The easy, carefree atmosphere from earlier was gone. Yuan exchanged a glance with Rose, who seemed to sense something was off too.
Yuan decided to break the silence. "Still bothered by the house?" he asked, trying to keep things light, though he could tell it wasn't just the house that was on Xerxes' mind.
Xerxes looked up, meeting Yuan's eyes for a moment. "Nah," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "The house? It's whatever now." He leaned back in his chair, but the tension in his posture didn't fade. His gaze drifted, like he was somewhere else entirely. Yuan could see it clearly now—the deepening irritation in Xerxes' eyes, like something had triggered old memories.
Yuan wasn't convinced. He knew that look. "Then what's bothering you?" he pressed, his voice gentler now. It wasn't like Xerxes to act this way over something as simple as an old, beat-up house. There was something more, something eating away at him.
Xerxes let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "It was Dick," he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like he was trying to shake off the irritation that was rising in his chest. "In the alley. He was getting stomped by a group of guys."
Yuan's brow furrowed in confusion. "Dick? Who's that?"
Xerxes' fingers tightened around his cup, as if the memory of what he'd seen just a few hours ago was still fresh. "I don't even know him that well," he said with a slight shake of his head, his tone hardening. "But these assholes were surrounding him, kicking him while he was on the ground, laughing their heads off. And the only thing he kept saying was, 'Don't talk shit about my mom.'" Xerxes' voice trailed off, and he let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. "It just reminded me of... of things."
Yuan's expression changed slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Things or Xander?"
Before Xerxes could respond, Rose, who had been silently observing the exchange, spoke up. "Xander? The one that died in that group fight?" she asked, her voice innocent, but the question hit like a hammer.
Yuan's eyes immediately flicked to Rose, his gaze sharp and urgent, signaling her to stop, but she didn't catch on. He let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, silently hoping Xerxes wouldn't get too tangled up in the conversation. But it was too late.
Xerxes didn't look at Yuan or Rose. He just stared ahead, his voice low and heavy when he spoke again. "Yeah. That Xander," he muttered. "He's my twin brother." His words hung in the air like a confession, a truth that hadn't been said aloud in years. The weight of it was evident, not just in Xerxes' voice, but in the stillness that followed.
The room went quiet for a long moment. Yuan felt like he'd been punched in the gut, the name "Xander" sending a sharp jolt of memory through him. He didn't know if it was the way Xerxes said it, or the way the air seemed to change in that instant, but the past felt closer than ever. He stared at his cousin, his mind racing to find the right words. The memories of what happened to Xander, the way things had ended for him, the way it had all unfolded—it was like a weight no one could ever shake off.
Xerxes turned his gaze to Rose, his expression shifting slightly. "How do you know about that?" he asked, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity.
Rose blinked, then glanced at Yuan before answering. "Yuan told me," she admitted casually. "He told me what happened."
Xerxes' eyes immediately flicked to Yuan, and for a moment, he just stared at him—expression unreadable, lips pressed into a firm line. Then, with deliberate slowness, his gaze darkened into something almost playful yet menacing, a silent but clear message.
Yuan, catching on immediately, raised his hands slightly in defense. "Hey, don't look at me like that," he said with an awkward chuckle. "It just came up in conversation."
Xerxes sighed and leaned back slightly. "It's okay," he muttered. "It's not like no one knows what happened anyway." He let out a short, awkward laugh before taking the last sip of his cold coffee, the bitter taste lingering.
Yuan studied him for a moment before speaking. "Look, I know you're always finding trouble, but that doesn't mean you're the bad guy here," he said, his tone steady.
Xerxes glanced at him but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
Yuan sighed. "You just can't stay still after witnessing something bad. That's just how you are."
Xerxes pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. It was already past 10 PM. He exhaled sharply, pushing himself up from his seat.
"I should get going," he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
Before leaving, Xerxes turned to Yuan. "Don't forget about tomorrow," he reminded him. "Be ready."
Yuan smirked. "Yeah, yeah. I got it," he said, waving him off.
The next morning, a loud, relentless knocking on the door yanked Xerxes out of his sleep. A faint voice called from the other side, but his groggy mind couldn't place it. Rubbing his eyes, he dragged himself up and swung the door open. Yuan stood there, helmet on, arms crossed, looking far too amused.
"You're always late, man. Do you even own an alarm clock?" Yuan teased, shaking his head.
Xerxes blinked, then suddenly remembered—today was the renovation. "Shit," he muttered before rushing back inside. He grabbed a bag, stuffed in some extra clothes for his part-time job later, and slung it over his shoulder.
When he stepped out, Yuan wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. "You didn't even take a bath, did you?"
Xerxes scoffed. "Shut up."
Laughing, Yuan handed him a helmet. "Fine, but if we pass by a carwash, I'm throwing you in."
Xerxes rolled his eyes, hopped onto the bike, and with a rev of the engine, they sped off.
Before heading to the house, Xerxes tapped Yuan's shoulder. "Stop by Marco's café first. I need coffee before dealing with that damn house."
Yuan groaned but swerved the bike toward the familiar spot. The small café smelled like freshly brewed coffee and had that warm, worn-out charm. As they entered, Marco looked up from behind the counter and immediately grinned.
"Well, well, if it isn't Xerxes Raven, looking like he just rolled out of a dumpster. What happened, man, did the house makeover start early?" Marco teased, eyeing Xerxes' disheveled appearance.
Xerxes shot him a half-smile. "I'm in a rush, alright? Not all of us have time to look pretty every day."
Marco chuckled. "Guess the rundown house isn't the only thing that needs a makeover, huh?"
Yuan snickered under his breath, shaking his head. "You don't pull any punches, do you?"
Xerxes rolled his eyes but tossed a few bills on the counter. "Two XL Americanos, takeout."
Marco got to work while Yuan leaned against the counter, still chuckling. "Dude, you should just admit Marco's right. You need some serious fixing up."
"Right after we fix that house," Xerxes muttered, taking the coffees from Marco.
With their drinks in hand, they headed out, and Xerxes hopped on the back of the bike, taking a quick sip before they rode off toward the rundown house
As they stepped inside the rundown house, Yuan couldn't stop laughing, but the two quickly got to work. They started with the basic cleanup: peeling wallpaper, sweeping broken glass, and tossing away old furniture that had seen better days.
"Is this a house or an archaeological site?" Yuan joked, as he stumbled over a collapsed chair. "I'm half expecting to find a mummy in here!"
Xerxes rolled his eyes but couldn't help smirking. "At this point, that wouldn't surprise me. Just don't touch anything with your bare hands—who knows what's living in this place."
Yuan grabbed a dust-covered broom and started sweeping, but the handle broke off as soon as he applied pressure. He stared at the broomstick in his hand. "Great. The house already destroyed my broom. What next? The floor's gonna collapse under us?"
Xerxes chuckled, then muttered, "Wouldn't be surprised at this point." He wiped his brow and surveyed their progress. "This is going to take forever…"
By the time 5 p.m. rolled around, the house had made a little progress, but it was still a disaster zone. Xerxes looked at his phone and sighed. "Alright, Yuan, I've got my part-time job in an hour, so I need to go. Can you help me grab my clothes from my place and bring them here?"
Yuan raised an eyebrow, looking around at the mess. "You want me to go get your clothes... here? In this hellhole? Sure, I'll just pile them on top of the broken furniture!"
Xerxes threw him the house key with a grin. "Yeah, just leave the mess for me. I'll add some finishing touches. Make sure you don't forget anything, alright?"
Yuan shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, yeah. Go get ready for your job. I'll be back with your clothes... and probably a few complaints about your choice in living space."
As Yuan left to grab Xerxes' clothes, Xerxes stood back, surveying their work. He adjusted a crooked shelf, wiped some dust off a window, and threw a few random items into boxes. He didn't have time to turn this place into a palace, but he'd make sure it didn't look like a total disaster when Yuan came back
Xerxes finished up the last bit of cleaning he could manage before checking the time. Realizing he was cutting it close, he decided not to wait for Yuan. He grabbed his things and set off for his part-time job, leaving the house behind in its half-renovated state.
By the time Yuan returned with Xerxes' clothes, he found the place empty, only the lingering scent of coffee and dust remaining. With an annoyed sigh, he muttered, "That bastard really left me to deal with this mess alone, huh?"
At Xerxes' part-time job, he was manning the counter when the door chimed, and Yuan strolled in. Tossing the house key onto the counter, Yuan leaned in with a smirk.
"Finished the dust," he announced casually.
Xerxes picked up the key, nodding in appreciation. Without missing a beat, he grabbed two cups of coffee and slid them toward Yuan. "One for you, one for Rose."
Yuan raised a brow. "Oh? Feeling generous?"
Xerxes chuckled. "I'll return the favor next time."
As Yuan was about to leave, a group of guys strolled into the café, their presence shifting the atmosphere. One of them, tall and cocky, walked straight to the counter with a smirk.
"Four venti espressos," he said, tapping his fingers on the counter.
"That'll be $11.15," Xerxes replied, ringing up the total.
Instead of pulling out his wallet, the guy suddenly reached back and yanked someone forward. Xerxes' eyes narrowed as he recognized him—Dick. The bruises on his face were hard to miss, a dark patch near his cheekbone and a small cut on his lip.
"This guy right here will be paying," the leader said with a grin, clapping a heavy hand on Dick's shoulder. "Right, Dick? You owe me, remember? The only reason your college life isn't hell is 'cause of me. So be a good friend and cover this, yeah?" His voice was dripping with amusement, but there was an edge to it.
Dick hesitated, fingers twitching as he reached for his wallet, his expression tense.
Yuan, who had been standing nearby, suddenly stiffened. His eyes flicked between Dick and Xerxes, realization settling in. So this is the Dick he was talking about yesterday…
Xerxes, keeping his expression neutral, grabbed a marker and asked, "What name should I put on the cup?"
The guy grinned. "Put 'Dick Ryder.'"
The three of them burst into laughter, nudging each other as they walked off to find a seat. Dick, after paying, followed them in silence, his shoulders hunched.
Yuan sighed and turned to Xerxes, lowering his voice. "You know what the right thing to do is."
Xerxes scoffed, leaning against the counter. "And what's that?"
Yuan gave him a knowing look. "You're always saying you don't want trouble, but trouble keeps finding you anyway. You saw his face—same as I did. You might not like getting involved, but ignoring it won't make it go away. If you were in his shoes, what would you have wanted someone to do?"
Xerxes exhaled slowly, looking over at Dick, who was sitting stiffly while the others laughed around him.
"You don't have to fight his battles for him," Yuan added, stepping back toward the door. "But maybe… he just needs someone to remind him he doesn't have to fight alone."
With that, Yuan gave Xerxes a pat on the shoulder and left, leaving him staring at the table where Dick sat.
As Xerxes set the cups down on their table, the leader of the group smirked. "Man, you're no fun. We wanted to hear you shout it."
Xerxes didn't answer. He just stared at the guy, his face expressionless. But inside, his thoughts were racing. What if I just knock this guy out? Or maybe pour the hot espresso on him? The thought of seeing that smug grin wiped off his face is... tempting.
He turned and walked back to the counter, his fists clenched. No, I can't just act on impulse. I can't keep doing this... every time something pisses me off, just throwing a punch. I've done that before, and it's never really solved anything. Look where it got me... where it got Xander.
The thought of his twin brother hit him hard. Xander was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. He trusted the wrong people. He thought he could fight his own battles... but look where it led him. Dead.
Xerxes' jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair. I wasn't there when he needed me most. I didn't do enough to protect him. I was too late. But I won't be this time. Not again.
He stood there, looking out at the group of guys, still laughing. I'm done standing still, watching people like Dick get trampled. Maybe I can't fix everything, but I can start by doing something. I won't let the past repeat itself again. I'll step in... before it's too late.
Xerxes took a deep breath, his decision solidifying in his mind. This time, I'm not just going to stand by.