Ted was my roommate—a tall, light-skinned guy with brown eyes and long brown hair. He had a weird and messed-up sense of humor, which I found amusing at first. He was fun to be around until he started doing drugs and his whole lifestyle took a drastic turn. Sometimes, he got violent, wrecking everything in the room, but since he never opened up about his struggles, I never judged him. I simply endured.
I tried having meaningful conversations with him now and then, but his humor always ruined them, dragging everything into the mud. He had a habit of sexualizing everything, even making jokes about death. When he became too much to handle, I'd call his best friend, Timothy, or his girlfriend, Rosette, to check on him while I stayed over at Suzzy's.
Suzzy lived alone in a huge room. She was a hopeless romantic in theory but avoided relationships in reality. Her past experiences with love had been nothing short of unpleasant, leaving her disillusioned. Despite her beauty, she had no interest in romance—unless, of course, it involved someone else, like me. She had golden caramel skin, cool blue-black eyes, and a perfect figure, almost like a mannequin. Her long black hair was always in a bun unless there was a special occasion. We had both sworn to stay focused on our futures, but I was already slipping. I just couldn't help it.
Then there was Mr. Moore. A 25-year-old bisexual man with a defiant nature, he carried an intimidating presence, almost like a mafia boss. He mostly dressed in black or dull colors, standing at 6'0 with well-built muscles that stretched against the fabric of his tight button-up shirts. His dark complexion was striking and his black eyes stood out even more. The perfectly defined jawline, trimmed beard, and high cheekbones made him undeniably attractive. The way he removed his dark sunglasses felt like something straight out of an edit. I couldn't stop staring.
In place of his manager, he was at my school conducting a test and assessment session for a new product his company was introducing. The moment I saw him, I knew he looked familiar and after his introduction, I realized why—he had once attended this very college. The product was a low-energy-consuming vehicular structure, and as an engineering student, I was deeply engaged in the session. I asked every question that came to mind, ensuring I got my answers. Each time I spoke, I noticed his smirk, but it didn't shake my confidence. I had a firm grip on my knowledge.
When the session finally ended, the sun was beginning to set, and the sky hinted at an impending downpour. Suzzy and I hurried to find shelter, but before we could, the loud honking of a black Aston Martin DBX caught our attention. The windows rolled down, revealing Mr. Moore, who gestured for us to get in.
Without hesitation, Suzzy jumped in and I followed. I took the front seat beside him—who would think about safety when they were seconds away from being drenched? Besides, we had just spent time with him at the session.
I found myself stealing glances at his right biceps as he steered the wheel with one hand, his other hand resting on his chin. He wore a black polo shirt and neatly ironed grey trousers. He asked question after question, his voice smooth and commanding.
"Grandee, I'm speaking to you," he said with a light grin.
For a moment, I wondered how he knew my name, then remembered I had introduced myself earlier. Snapping out of my thoughts, I stammered, "O-oh, sorry... c-can you repeat yourself?"
"I was asking if you could dial in your number so I can steal some intellect from you," he said smoothly. "I was really intrigued by your contributions earlier."
With shaky hands, I reached for his phone from where it rested on his lap. Turning slightly, I glanced at Suzzy, who was sinking into the luxurious seat, enjoying the moment. Slowly, I keyed in my number.
The rest of the journey was short and awkward. With his intense aura, Mr. Moore was the only one keeping the conversation going. I felt a little weird about that.
When we arrived at the junction to Suzzy's apartment, I extended my hand for a handshake to thank him. Instead of a quick shake, he clasped my hand tightly, smirking as he held it far longer than necessary. His grip made my hand feel small, almost fragile.
"We're very grateful, Mr. Moore," Suzzy said sincerely before stepping out.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally let go of my hand and I hurried out of the car. Just before he drove off, he threw me a wink.
Suzzy caught that and immediately gave me the look.