Going to college had become a bit boring. "It shouldn't be this boring, should it?" Keith frowned as he returned to the so-called best P.G. in the area.
Keith, a 6'1", dark-haired, brown-skinned, grey-eyed, lean college student, was busy scheming how to offload the group assignment onto his dearest groupmates.
"Eh, Ronnie will manage."
Don't get him wrong—he wasn't saying everything had gone grey or that he no longer cared about shit or stuff along those lines. It was just that a bit of monotony had definitely seeped into his routine.
Like every other teenager, he'd imagined how glorious university life would be: drinking, studying, girls, late-night stays with the boys, and so on.
Sure, a lot of that had happened—but it wasn't as glorious as he'd hoped.
"Oh, I wonder how the fight went," Keith muttered aloud as he got ready to grab a bite downstairs.
Being a fighting enthusiast and even indulging in martial arts for some time, not being able to watch PPV fights was a form of torture for Keith.
"Well, nothing can be done. Not like I'm spending my money when I can just watch the highlights. Cuts out the boring parts anyway."
"Yo, didja watch the fight?" came a loud voice from his side.
Turning, Keith saw Ronnie—a 6'2", dark-haired, fair-skinned, slightly chubby classmate and roommate.
"No. I was hoping you'd fill me in. And stop being so loud, idiot. Everyone's staring," Keith replied, noticing the annoyed glances from others.
"Let 'em. Oh, Usyk won! Man, how does a heavyweight have more stamina than middleweights? It's baffling," commented Ronnie.
Hearing this, Keith smiled. "Well, his conditioning has always been insane. And don't forget—he hits harder than Fury."
"Hmm, true," Ronnie agreed.
"By the way, what's for food?" Keith asked as they grabbed their plates from the common area and queued up.
"Hmm, I reckon it's curry and rice," replied Ronnie.
"gehh, again?"
"Yup. Again."
"Fuuuck."
When it was their turn, Keith grabbed a minuscule portion, his appetite killed at the sight of the food.
"Oi, you've gotta eat properly. How much weight have you lost again? 15 kgs, was it?" Ronnie questioned while loading his plate.
"18. And if you think this is food, you've got a problem, mate," Keith replied, scooping some curry with a disgusted expression.
"18 kgs?! If I lost that much, my parents would have dragged me back home," Ronnie commented.
Living away from home had taught Keith the value of a lot of things—homemade food, no electricity bills, no headaches about water, laundry, and the rest.
'Does he not have these problems?' Keith wondered, sneaking a glance at Ronnie, who was happily munching his food while scrolling through social media.
Airhead.
"Oh, before I forget—everyone was asking if you're coming to the bar tonight," Ronnie said suddenly, looking up.
'A bar, huh? It's been a while, but I don't want to babysit drunk idiots again.'
Keith had started to hate public gatherings that involved alcohol. Everyone drank past their limits, leading to fights, ego clashes, puking, crying, shouting—it was overwhelming.
Ronnie was no different; it was just that he never puked, and was far less annoying. Him being Keith's roommate also helped.
'I think I'm turning into an introvert. Well, it's not half bad,' Keith thought, barely swallowing his food.
"Nope. Got some editing work due tonight. Sorry, lad. Handle them yourself," Keith replied.
"You ditched us last time too, man. C'mon, it'll be fun," implored Ronnie. "And don't forget—Saia will be there!"
"First, those novels help me pay my bills. Second, your inability to comprehend basic shit isn't my problem."
Ronnie responded with a sharp glare.
"And Saia who? Saia Reynolds?"
"Uh-huh. Dude, I genuinely think you've got a solid chance this time."
"You reckon?" Keith asked, finishing his last bite. Even if he didn't enjoy the food, he always cleared his plate, never taking more than he could eat. His religious upbringing didn't let him disrespect food.
"So, are you coming?" Ronnie asked hopefully.
"Nah, I'm good. I'll talk to her at uni," Keith replied, preparing to stand up.
"Man, you suck."
"You suck harder."
"Whoa, whoa, how'd you know what your mum said to me last night?" Ronnie teased.
"Really?" Keith said face deadpan, and Ronnie matched his gaze.
And then, without warning, Keith punched Ronnie hard on the shoulder.
"Ahh, fuck!" Ronnie grimaced. "Fuck you, dude."
"Well deserved," Keith said, standing up. Placing his plate in the sink, he turned around and added, "Don't be late. I won't save your ass from Mr. Neil again if you're caught out."
"Yeah, yeah. I won't be late. Fucking spoilsport," muttered Ronnie.
Keith just flipped him off and headed upstairs to his dorm room.