2I know what you're thinking. College AU? Seriously? It's okay, I know I'm basic. You don't have to tell me, and I'm not sorry about it.
Like the Dirty Chai AU, this is an idea that's been living in my head for a really, really long time. And like the Dirty Chai AU, I never in my wildest dreams ever imagined I'd actually WRITE it. But here I am in national lockdown with nothing but time. If I don't do it now, It'll never happen. What I need right now is to give my brain a rest from Bloodline in order to refocus and give it a decent ending. I mean, I've been hard at the DCU for 9 months now. It's closing in on 70 chapters and I'd hate to drop the ball now. So I'm shifting gears to allow myself a break.
Few things before we begin:
1) This story will mostly be funny. Some parts will also be angsty, because those are the only two things I can write.
2) I will be pulling together characters from all across both the DSS and the SLC. That isn't to say everyone is going to share the spotlight equally (I'm still here for my faves, sorry fam) but I hope to give almost everyone at least a mention or a little moment here and there. I'll draw parallels to the canon where possible, but things like timelines and character deaths are mostly going to be thrown out the window here. So are age differences - everyone's a college student here. So the oldest (i.e. Paris and Seba) would be seniors. The youngest (i.e. Darren and Steve) would be freshmen. Everyone else will fall somewhere in the middle.
3) The million dollar question: is this another fucking MikaKurda fic? Short answer: Yeah probably? Long answer: Not right now and we're a long ways off from that becoming the centre focus of the story. Right now I'm most interested to see the same characters interact in a wildly different setting than normal. You'll see. Also I'm Canadian so words like "freshman" and "sophomore" are foreign to me lmao. I don't explicitly say it, but this is set in the USA because I'm using the stereotypical all-American college football theme as a backdrop.
4) This will mostly (if not entirely) be told from Kurda's POV. So you'll see all the other characters from his perspective. His thoughts and opinions won't necessarily reflect my own.
5) I don't really have an endgame (lol) with this story. It'll be more of a collection of little stories because after writing this far in the DCU I've decided complex plots aren't for me. I have a lot of ideas for this, because that's what happens when you have something rattling around in your head for six years. Holy shit it's finally happening guys! Please enjoy this.
Record scratch.
Freeze frame.
Yep, that's me - the one sandwiched between the beer pong table and the stereo blasting WAP (for the fifth time in an hour).
I suppose you're wondering how I got into this situation.
It all started when my quiet apartment complex got sold just before my junior year of university. I had to find a new place to rent, and fast. All of my friends already had their housing figured out. Luckily my best friend Gannen's twin brother Vancha was looking for someone to rent a room at his place.
There's just one problem. Vancha is completely fucking feral, and his housemates (and fellow football heathens) Mika and Arrow are also uniquely awful in their own right.
My name is Kurda Smahlt. I'm a liberal arts major living in a popular jock commune, in the heart of a town where everyone suckles at the almighty teat of college football.
Welcome to my hell.
PROLOGUE
SIX MONTHS AGO:
Kurda Smahlt was a simple creature. As his sophomore year of university came to a close, he had but one wish, and one wish only: To graduate ahead of schedule, take his liberal arts degree and finally get the fuck out of this godforsaken town forever.
If he could have second wish, it would have been for his 2007 Honda Accord (with upwards of 400000 clicks on the odometer) to please, god, please just survive until he finished school and got a real job that paid better than his current part-time gig at the local coffee shop - where he scraped by serving an endless stream of caffeine to an endless line of his fellow students (ugh).
It was March. Kurda had spent his sophomore year living alone (which was pure bliss, honestly) in a quiet one-bedroom apartment off-campus and he fully intended to hang onto it until he graduated. After spending freshman year in a dorm, Kurda simply rejected the very notion that everyone needed to have the same whirlwind college experience that consisted of alcohol-soaked shenanigans and reckless idiocy. After a year in the dorms, he vowed to never to exist in the path of such an absolute shitstorm again as long as he lived.
With that said, he'd admittedly lucked out roommate-wise as a freshman. He was randomly assigned to one Gannen Harst, and they still remained friends to this day. They shared a passion for interesting books, true crime podcasts, and obscure music.
Why don't they still live together, you ask?
Kurda wanted to live alone. Because he liked it that way. It truly was as simple as that. So after freshman year, that was exactly what he did. Of course, before leaving the dorm behind forever, Gannen asked Kurda if he wanted to lease a house with him and the other two members of their friend group - Glalda Erifith and Randel Chayne. Kurda did consider it for a moment, but politely declined. Best friends-turned-roommates-turned-enemies is a college tale as old as time, after all. He visited them frequently though. And then he'd go home to his own space, where he'd make himself a tea, study, read, listen to a podcast, have a bubble bath, a nice glass of wine, or all of the above.
Now two years into university, on the cusp of junior year, Kurda was still maintaining a near-perfect GPA which was enough to hang onto his full academic scholarship. That meant all he had to worry about was rent and food - and his part-time job covered that. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was thriving, but he was most assuredly surviving.
He was studying in the campus library with Gannen when he got the email from his landlord: the building he lived in had been sold, and it would be torn down over the summer. His heart sank like a stone - he had to find some student housing for next year and find it really fucking fast.
The housing page of the school website yielded nothing. Nor did Craigslist. Nor did any of the campus Facebook groups. At least, nothing in Kurda's price range. It was late enough in the year that everyone already had their shit together, housing-wise. All at once, Kurda was terribly behind the eight-ball. And it wasn't even his fault.
"You could always live with my biological counterpart in his commune of Neanderthals." Gannen mused wryly, arching an eyebrow. "Now that would be a social experiment I'd pay to see. They need a fourth housemate next year - one guy just got expelled." He added as he observed Kurda anxiously scrolling through page after page of rental ads that were too much, or too far, or no longer available.
"You can't even handle living with Vancha. What makes you think I can?" Said Kurda, wincing. "Remember the time I tutored him back in freshman year when I volunteered for that program? He only came to two sessions, but it's hard to forget someone like that."
"I still think you should've let him fail Psych 101." Gannen replied with no small amount of disdain. "Son of a bitch gets through one year without being on academic probation, and now he thinks he's smart. Unbelievable."
"If I hadn't seen the Facebook pictures your mom tagged you in, I'd never believe you're twins." Kurda ventured. He shot his friend a sly grin across the table between them, upon which was scattered an assortment of notes and textbooks. "I take it the... situation... hasn't improved?"
Kurda didn't know a whole lot about his friend's semi-feral twin brother. It wasn't like Kurda and Gannen ran in the same circles as Vancha and his friends. All he knew was that Gannen and Vancha had different last names and a tricky relationship. Both with each other, and with their parents. Kurda didn't like to pry, and Gannen didn't like to open up.
"Fuck no." Said Gannen decisively. "Vancha feels guilty though, I know he does. He sends me at least three stupid Snapchats a day despite the fact I haven't replied in a year and a half. What kind of grown-ass man uses Snapchat as his main form of communication?! But I bet he'd let you rent the fourth room if he thought it'd get him off my shit list."
"Somehow, I get the feeling Vancha and I aren't exactly here for the same college experience." Said Kurda with a reluctant chuckle.
"You know I'd never lie to you, Kurda. I respect you far too much for that. You'd hate living with my brother." Gannen laughed ruefully. "I know I did. Divorce can be a blessing."
Kurda arched one golden eyebrow with abundant skepticism.
"And yet you ended up at the same school..." He remarked.
"We've been over this! I enrolled first! The dumbass practically followed me here." Gannen huffed defensively. Kurda belatedly remembered this was a bit of a sore topic. "I'm here because the biotech program is one of the best in the country. And Vancha's here because they offered him a full scholarship for no reason other than the fact that he can throw a football more proficiently than the average person. God, don't even get me started."
"As much as I love lamenting how the entire academic system caters to athletes, I'm way too busy to go down that rabbit hole today." Kurda sighed ruefully. "I need to get this housing crisis handled, and I have two essays due by Friday. Plus I have to work tonight."
"Find a place to live first." Gannen suggested seriously. "No point in passing your classes if you're going to be homeless next year. Everyone I know already has a place. At the rate you're going, only the West End apartments are going to be left."
"Fuck West End. I can't afford 2000 a month." Kurda groaned. "All I want is to live alone, but I think at this point I'll have to settle for anything above a cardboard box on the street."
"If Randel fails out, you can take over his lease and live with us." Said Gannen with a dry smirk. "Seriously though, want me to ask Vancha if they're still looking for a fourth guy? Rent is reasonable, and it's close to the school. Plus it's a really nice house other than the fact that he lives in it. Best of all, it's only a few blocks from my place - you know you can come over any time."
"What are Vancha's housemates like?" Kurda inquired. He glanced apprehensively across at his friend, already knowing what the answer would be. His fear was confirmed when Gannen grunted disdainfully, and wrinkled his nose as though someone in the vicinity had just microwaved tuna.
"They're football stars, Kurda. What do you think they're like? They're loud, stupid, and entitled. Partying is their sole religion, and let me tell you - they're devout as all fuck."
"Suddenly the cardboard box doesn't sound so bad." Kurda snorted, rolling his eyes so hard he almost caught a glimpse of the back of his head. "What are their names again?"
"Well, you already know my brother." Gannen began, his expression as serious as though he was hosting a seminar. "Then the one that dropped out was Perta Vin-Grahl. Turns out you can't be a star Quarterback and a committed cokehead at the same time. Someone posted a video of him snorting lines off the hood of someone's car at a party. Coach Wrent found out, and Perta lost his scholarship."
"I'm playing the world's tiniest violin for him." Said Kurda sardonically.
"Then there's Aaron Barton. But if you don't call him Arrow, he goes squirrelly because his entire personality is tied up in his football nickname. I've never seen his Tinder profile but I guarantee he's holding a fish in all his photos. He's one of those guys." Gannen continued.
"Ugh. Sounds like a treat." Kurda groaned. "I think I know who you mean. He's got all those arrow tattoos on his arms, right?
"Yeah, that's him. Such a tool." Said Gannen. "And don't ask me if the nickname or the ink came first - I don't know, and I don't care."
"Fair enough."
"And the other one is Mika Ver Leth. Rich douchebag. Drives that big black Escalade as if he's a fucking rapper or something. Parks like a douche too. They're saying he's going to take Perta's spot as head Quarterback or whatever. Hell, he's probably the one who leaked the video that started CokeGate and got Perta booted." Gannen concluded with a sniff of disgust.
"Right. I vividly remember that Escalade almost running me over in the freshman dorm parking lot last year." Said Kurda wearily. "I've never properly met either of them, but I know who they are. Doubt they know me, though."
"Of course they don't know you. You're not a football, or a beer keg, or a girl with a nice rack. I got assigned to do a group presentation with Ver Leth in my stats class last semester. He's met me a dozen times and he still thinks my name is Gary." Gannen grunted.
"Gary?!"
"It's fine." Gannen shrugged. "I started called him Michael - he didn't appreciate that."
"Nice." Said Kurda, allowing himself a grin of approval.
"On the bright side, I doubt they spend much time at the house, between doing football shit and cruising for pussy." Gannen added. "I'm almost certain they'll just pretend you're not there, long as you pay rent on time and don't call the cops on their parties." And he said it with such genuine earnestness, Kurda couldn't stop himself from snorting in laughter.
The pair of them chuckled in unison for a few minutes, then the feeling of impending doom crept up on Kurda once again, and his laughter faded into a sigh of defeat.
"Sounds like I have three choices." Kurda pondered aloud. "I can move back home and do online classes in a town even shittier than this one, or I can move to the West End where I'd have to sell my body just to pay rent... or I can consider joining the Neanderthal commune."
"That about sums it up." Said Gannen. He smiled grimly. "Hey, you could always start an OnlyFans."
"Don't tempt me."
"This has been fun, but I have to get to class." Gannen carefully slid his laptop back into his bag, and shot Kurda a more serious look. "Am I texting Vancha for you or not? I'm not saying it'll be a great fit, but I am saying your options are limited. And I'd rather you didn't move home. Who else would judge douchebags with me if I didn't have you?"
Kurda heaved a long sigh of defeat that stemmed from the utmost depths of his soul. Reality was often disappointing.
"Fine. See if the room is still available." He told Gannen. "What's the worst that can happen?"
There it is! I had a lot of fun with this. If you enjoyed it, please leave me a hit of serotonin via the comment box. As always, I'm doing this for my own enjoyment but I won't pretend I'm not a slut for those comment notification e-mails.
More coming soon! Stay warm and safe y'all.
- Roxy