A heavy sigh breaks through the suffocating silence that permeated Pierre DuPont's modest apartment. So modest in fact, that it's in the process of peeling off its extravagant makeup as the years pass by. Who needs paint on the walls anyway?
Pristine floorboards? Nah. How about mismatched stained floorboards with much more personality. Keeping the beaten down living space in perfect condition was more trouble than it was worth, and frankly, it wasn't worth an awful lot.
A startled snort follows his sigh, Pierre's roommate, Eiichiro had returned to the land of the living.
"How fare thee, weary traveler? Your journey is far from finished." Pierre remarks and gestures towards the stack before his friend.
"Ugh, you've broken the spell. I just had the nicest dream."
"What? You finally strangled our supervisor?" Pierre guessed.
"Close, but not that cathartic. The world ended and I didn't have to grade any more stupid papers." Eiichiro replied, adjusting his glasses on his face.
It is Pierre's turn to snort. "Now that'd be something. The end of the world trivializes all our problems and we're freed from the shackles of 'I need an extension on my paper, Mr. DuPont, I got hacked by some Indian and my system got wiped.'"
"Someone actually said that? Points for creativity, that one." Eiichiro chuckled before turning back to his papers. As grad students, pretty young ones at that, Pierre and Eiichiro had a lot of unnecessary work shoveled their way and not enough wiggle room to say no.
Howard Hayes, their bloody supervisor didn't make things much easier. It was always one outlandish request after the other. Who asks 17 year olds to teach rowdy 20 year olds? It invites disrespect, all sorts of pranks — queue horrific flashback to a thumbtacked seat — and is more of a headache than it seems like on paper because the truth is, everything seems better on paper.
Both are saddled with insufferable TA roles to make ends meet as they slog through the research requirements for their respective theses. Even worse are the times they are little more than glorified assistants.
Shudder.
Just a little more time and they'll be free.
It's a harsh but not unheard of reality they've learnt to stomach rather quickly, not without being a little prickly. Just minutes later into their monotonous work, almost simultaneously, their phones blare with an upbeat tune that juxtaposes strongly against the odd mood such a coincidence brought about.
Brushing it off, they both pick up their phones and start to call out a cheery greeting only to be interrupted in a rather brusque manner.
"Get home right now! This instant, I demand that you're here. Hurry!"
"If you're not home by the time I blink there's going to be a big problem Pierre DuPont!"
A shared glance is all it takes, before both teens grab their backpacks and blitz out of the room and down a few floors, barely remembering to lock it up.
Out of the apartment building, they take a brisk jog back home, speeding past heavy traffic that seems to have come out of nowhere, though it hardly registers; never before have they heard such raw panic in either of their parents' voices.
Blaring horns and their racing thoughts keep them company as every stride carries them closer home. It's times like this that make their apartment selection worthwhile.
Almost as soon as the building comes into view, Pierre bursts into his parents' cosiderably larger but somehow more gloomy apartment just a shot out of breath.
"Is everyone alright? You sounded like someone died or something."
Wordlessly, his mother rushes to smother him in an instant.
"I take it you haven't seen the news yet." Max, Pierre's father notes, expression grim.
"Dad? What're you doing here? Scratch that, what's going on? I need some explanations here."
"There's no explaining what's happening, Pierre. We're in danger, and these might be our last moments as a family." Nathalie, his mother finally speaks up.
A moment of silence, first came denial, "this is some kind of joke, right? Last moments? What does - what does that even mean? You're not making much sense."
"Perhaps it's best if we show you." Max says and shows Pierre a disturbing video.
"The United Nations is yet to release any statements on the matter other than 'get your families together and stick with them. An asteroid unlike any ever seen before are en route to the planet and there's no stopping it.'" A newscaster in clear distress rattled off before hurriedly packing her things and assumingly doing just that.
Even more silence... then anger. "What the fuck did she mean by that? An asteroid? It's gotta be AI. Merde."
"I wouldn't be so quick to call bullshit, Pierre. The vice president has already released a statement on this. It's all real, and we need to prepare." His mother says, surprisingly calm.
"Prepare for what?"
"For the end. I'll go make us a meal so we can eat together as a family a few more times before we don't get that choice anymore." With a lingering glance at Max, she stalks off to the kitchen.
"Listen, Son-"
"Don't 'son' me, Max. You lost that right when you abandoned your family. Now if you'll excuse me, I need some air while I think about how to get us out of this."
Outside, Pierre wracks his brain to conjure up some solution to this dilemma. While extremely talented in his field, he knows not of a single material that could survive the crushing might of a full-blown asteroid that can just jet past Jupiter.
Each train of thought leads him to a depression conclusion: they're going to die. And there's not a damn thing they can do about it.
Outside his inner turmoil people bustle in and out of stores trying to get some last minute supplies. It strikes him then that he doesn't know how much time he has left, so in a way, the situation is not much different from how life has always been. Of course he was going to die, that was inevitable.
Traffic is even worse now as people are trying to go places — where to? Who knows? The point was moving away from the source of bad news. Maybe it'll make it less real. Pierre knows this is just wishful thinking though.
Some kneel at the sidewalks, shouting prayers to whatever deity they served. Some break down in hysteria. He even spotted a few carrying six-packs out of stores. All for the sake of coping.
Just then, Pierre feels a presence behind him. He turns to gaze into Eiichiro's heavy eyes, the blue in them seem just a shade darker than usual.
They were going to die, and with nothing else that could be done. Pierre could only close his eyes and accept it.
"Your folks alright?"
"They've seen better days." Eiichiro replied simply.
"That's not saying much."
"I know. Yours alright?"
"Definitely been better."
"That also isn't saying much, you dick." Though there was no real heat to it.
Pierre can only smile in response though it hardly reaches his eyes. "When the sky falls, will you be by my side?"
"Always, brother. Always." Came Eiichiro's solemn reply.