Chapter Text
The likelihood of his parents realising what he was doing was slim but not zero. It wasn’t like either of them stepped foot in the library that often – he’d honestly be surprised if his father even knew it existed. It certainly wouldn’t occur to him to look for Adam here.
But Henrietta was the sort of small town where everyone was in everyone’s business, and all it took was one person mentioning that they had seen Adam looking at houses in DC for his father to beat him so badly that he wouldn’t be able to leave the trailer for the rest of his life.
He tried not to spend too much time in the library, but at the moment he had to, because he didn’t have access to the internet at home, and he kind of needed it to apply for jobs and look at places to live.
A few days earlier, he had left the trailer before his shift at Boyd’s earlier than he needed to so he could check his email. He’d been anxious about it for weeks, ever since he’d sent off his application to the Guild of Mages.
It had been a longshot. The Guild was only really known for hiring people with a lot of experience, or at least a lot of research under their belt, some big achievement that set them apart from the rest of the applicants.
So Adam, with barely anything aside from stellar grades, half a dozen jobs and references, and a personal essay about how he had come into his magic and what he meant to him, was incredibly shocked when they told him that he got the job, and started on the first of the next month.
Which of course presented a new difficulty, in that his savings were meager and he needed to find a way to move to DC.
He had been saving money ever since he was old enough to get his first job, but just another horrible thing about living with his parents was that his father regularly raided his room for any spare cash that Adam was hiding, so he was definitely a lot worse off than he would have been.
Even the shittiest of apartments in DC was over his budget, and he wouldn’t be able to afford the deposit and also travel to the city, let alone be able to feed himself until his first paycheck came in.
Anxiety gnawed at him, and he had the sinking feeling that he was going to have to either be homeless for the first month of work, which could kill him, or have to refuse his dream job offer and end up being stuck in Henrietta for the rest of his life, like so many of the people that had ended up trapped and miserable in the trailer park.
He sighed and put his head in his hands. He had half an hour until he needed to be back home without arousing suspicion. He’d search a bit more, but he was already pushing it with accepting the offer, and if he couldn’t find anywhere to live, he’d have to make up his mind – sleep on the streets or at a homeless shelter until he could afford somewhere to live, or tell them that he was sorry but he’d have to refuse the offer after all.
He refreshed the real estate page one last time, and a brand new listing immediately caught his eye.
The outside of the place didn’t seem that impressive, an old renovated factory with big windows and burnished brick, a concrete car park with a bright orange Old Camaro parked by the janky metal front door.
What caught his eye, if not the appearance, was the price. It was cheap. Really cheap. To a suspicious extent.
He clicked through the photos on the listing, looking for anything that would explain away the price. But there wasn’t any mould, or suspicious damp patches, or appliances that hadn’t been updated since the place was first built.
The apartment listed was bare of furniture, but had a nice enough kitchen and bathroom. He’d have to find a sleeping bag so he could stay warm at night, but that was fine. The fact that there was no furniture surely couldn’t be the reason that the apartment was listed for so little.
Adam was loath to let such a catch get away from him, especially when it was the only way that he’d be able to escape his family and be able to work his dream job whilst also not starving to death on the street.
But he was also, first and foremost, a paranoid thing.
He took his shitty little brick of a phone out from his pocket and dialled the number listed for contact.
“Hello.” Said a very small voice on the other end of the line. Adam had to strain to hear properly, which only set him on edge more, “Can I help you?”
“Hi.” Adam said back, keeping his voice just as low as the other end of the line, because he was still in the library, and he didn’t want the librarian to pop up and tell him to keep it down, because that would surely make it back to his parents, “I’m calling about the apartment listing?”
“Ah.” Said the voice, “You have questions?”
“Um, yes.” God, he really didn’t know how to do things like this. He just needed them to like him enough to let him move in, and then he could keep to himself, “I was just wondering if there was any particular reason that the rent is so low? For apartments this size the rent is usually higher.”
He didn’t really know why he was trying to convince her to make his rent higher, but he’d been alive long enough to know that if things sounded too good to be true, they usually were.
The voice hummed, the sound only barely picked up by the phone, “There was a death in the apartment a few years ago. Negative energy everywhere.”
Adam let out a sigh of relief. As bad as it sounded, he was glad it was just negative energy left over from a violent death, and not something like asbestos in the walls. His magic could clear negative energy, but he couldn’t afford to hire a contractor.
He knew that as soon as he turned up at the place, he’d probably find something disastrously wrong with it, like a load bearing wall that had been wrongfully removed, or windows that had such bad sealing that the entire place was constantly freezing.
But he also knew that nowhere could possibly be as bad as living with his parents in their trailer.
So he said, “I’ll take it, if it’s still available.”
It would be incredibly difficult for it to not be available. The listing was brand new. The woman on the other side of the phone must have thought him desperate for calling as soon as it was listed. She also must find it strange that he wasn’t asking to come and view the apartment. He just wanted it now.
He expected her to ask for a deposit, but instead she just said, as serene and soft as she had been the entire conversation, “We’ll see you in four days, then.”
The phone line clicked off. As he sat there, full of pure wonderment at his luck, he watched the listing turn from available to sold right in front of his eyes.
He’d done it.
He’d gotten his dream job, and he’d found his own place to live where he wouldn’t be under his father’s thumb any longer.
Actually leaving the house was going to be a different problem entirely, but at least he could now. He could leave and never look back.
He’d done it.
He carefully logged out of the computer, his phone pinging with a text from the number he’d just called, telling him the date and time he could collect his keys. The tone was a lot more clipped than the voice on the phone had been.
He didn’t really know what to do with himself anymore. He wandered around the library perusing books blindly until it was time to go home.
He avoided his father by working on the car outside, and kept quiet when his mother served microwaved lasagne for dinner. Robert Parrish was in a relatively alright mood – or, as good a mood as he could physically be in; Adam thought maybe his favourite football team had one something big – and Adam managed to escape to his room unscathed for the night.
The next few days passed slower than Adam thought they had any right to. Anticipation was etching itself into his skin, making his movements jittery, unreliable. He stayed out of the house for as long as he could without getting in trouble, and kept himself outside or in his room when he was in the trailer so, hopefully, his father would forget about him.
When four days had passed, he only had some minor bruising on his ribs and a scratch from an errant nail down his arm. Excitement and anxiety made a dangerous cocktail of energy in his body as he packed his backpack a little more heavily than he usually would, taking as many clothes as he dared. The cash he had stashed in bundles all around his room got padded in between the folds of his clothes.
There wasn’t really much else he could take. There wasn’t anything else he wanted to take. Clothing and money were necessities, but anything else would just remind him of the life he was about to leave behind.
He shouldered his backpack, nerves fluttering anxiously in his stomach. He was wearing his Boyd’s coveralls.
“Bye, mom.” He said, his mothers mousy hair barely visible over the back of the couch. The TV blared noisily with the sound of some daytime quiz show with a live studio audience, “I’m leaving.”
She made a vague noise at him, uncaring to speak even a few words to him. She didn’t move, eyes still fixed on the television.
He turned and left the trailer for the last time, trying to convince himself that he’d miss his mom, at least. Even his internal monologue didn’t sound convinced.
He took his bike to Boyd’s, the warm Virginia air feeling more freeing than it ever had before.
He’d never go back to that trailer ever again. He’d never have to walk on eggshells so he wouldn’t be punished for the crime of being alive. He’d never see his father’s spiteful eyes ever again.
He felt more free than he ever had in his life, like there was a weight on his shoulders that he had been born with that had finally been lifted off of him.
He had told Boyd a few days earlier, when he had confirmed that he had a place to stay in DC. He’d been very apologetic about how little notice he was giving, because Boyd and the guys that worked at the autoshop had never been anything but good to him.
Boyd hadn’t seemed too worried, though. In fact, he was practically radiating warmth, and tried to hide his smile when Adam told him he was moving out of Henrietta.
He had prepared himself to work a full shift, but about three hours in, Boyd put a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, “You can get going now, son.”
Adam blinked at him, “I still have four hours left of my shift.”
“We can handle ourselves.” Boyd said, and Carl, from the other side of the room, grunted his ascent, “And you’ve got a bus to catch.”
“I–” Adam, stupidly, felt like he was going to cry. He really was going to get out. Boyd and the guys didn’t have to be this nice to him, “Thank you.”
“Take your full shift pay.” Boyd said, the cash register dinging as he opened it and pulled out green notes, pressing them into Adam’s unresisting hand.
“And here.” Said Michael, one of the guys Adam wasn’t usually on shift with, because he worked when Adam was at the trailer factory. He took a book from the break room table, and said, “For the bus journey.”
Adam didn’t even tell his hands to take the book, but they did so anyway. It was a dimestore paperback cowboy novel, not the type of thing Adam would usually read. It felt like the most precious thing he’d put his hands on, anyway.
Michael scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, “My wife… she’s, uhm, sort of like you. Put some kinda charm on the bookmark. Supposed to protect you.”
Something warm and grateful spread throughout Adam’s chest. He fought the urge to clutch the book to his body, and instead tucked it into his backpack with careful hands, “Please, tell your wife I said thank you. I really mean it.”
Michael scuffed his boot against the floor, “No problem. Now get going.”
“And don’t worry.” Boyd added, “None of us will say anything if your parents come asking.”
Adam huffed out a laugh, because the idea of his parents caring enough about him not coming home to start talking to his coworkers was incredibly foolish. They probably wouldn’t notice for the first few days, and then they’d be angry he wasn’t bringing money into the house, and then they’d be glad that they didn’t have to feed him anymore.
He took the money Boyd offered him, and the book from Michael, and left Boyd’s auto shop for the last time. This place, at least, he would miss a bit. Not the work of it all, but the few people in this town who treated him like he was a person.
He rode his bicycle out, just past the Henrietta exit sign, and waited by the bus stop for the bus that only ran twice a day. He was immensely grateful to Boyd for letting him go early, because he would have had to wait at least two hours if he’d finished on time, but now he didn’t even have to wait a full hour.
The bus eventually pulled up, and Adam paid for his ticket with the money Boyd had given him. The bus driver helped hang his bike on the hooks at the front of the bus, and then Adam could sit in his seat and stare out the window, bag carefully pulled into his lap, as the bus pulled away from Henrietta, leaving the town behind.
He didn’t turn to watch Henrietta grow smaller and eventually disappear. He just pulled his knees up to his chest, crushing his bag, and rested his chin on them, letting his eyes slip closed.
He was too excited to sleep, though, anticipation making him feel vaguely sick – though that could just be the travelling, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a car, let alone a bus, because his dad didn’t let him drive the truck, and he also certainly never gave Adam a lift to work or anything of the sort.
Despite his excitement, he managed to doze off. He never properly fell asleep, but he rested his weary body, jolting awake whenever the bus hit a pothole or took a corner too sharply.
He must have been closer to sleep than he realised, because he wasn’t even aware when the bus rolled to a stop inside the DC bus terminal. A hand on his shoulder jolted him awake, and he startled so violently that the kindly looking old lady that had woken off him snatched her hand away.
“We’ve stopped, dearie.” She said, her voice, lacking the thick Henrietta drawl he’d heard his entire life, was a breath of fresh air, “You best get off the bus.”
“Oh.” Adam said, and then, when his brain had finally booted up properly, “Thank you, ma’am.”
She smiled at his politeness and bustled away, leaving Adam to get himself in order.
It was paranoid, but he checked his bag to make sure he had everything he came with, and then made his way off the bus.
He hadn’t ever been to DC – he hadn’t ever really been outside of Henrietta, his parents had never signed off on field trips because Adam had never asked them, knowing they wouldn’t say yes – and the difference between the tiny town he grew up in and the big city was impossible to ignore.
The buildings stood tall and clustered together, and there seemed to be more than the entire population of Henrietta just in the bus terminal.
He shrugged his bag onto his back and headed out onto the street, trying to get his bearings.
When he’d been trying to stay away from the trailer, he’d spent most of his time at the library, pouring over both physical and electronic copies of maps of DC, but memorising maps wasn’t the same as actually being in DC, and he suddenly found everything incredibly overwhelming.
He tried to cool his jackhammering heart, and looked around for a street sign so he’d know where he was. He knew the streets he needed to take by heart at this point, but the amount of people around him was overloading his senses, so he just started walking and he ended up just wandering in the direction he was almost sure he was supposed to go in.
Eventually, he found himself on a street whose name he didn’t recognise, definitely not on his learned path. He walked up and down the streets connected to it, searching for a street he recognised, but he had gotten himself quite lost in his overstimulated state.
He sighed.
He could always go into a local store and ask someone for directions, but he didn’t particularly want to advertise himself as a tourist, as someone vulnerable and unknowing. So he instead walked around until he found a puddle of rainwater in the gutter.
He was still on the ley line, which was good, but there wasn’t a whole lot of greenery around him. He’d have to learn a way to make his magic work in a situation he wasn’t used to. He’d gotten too reliant on the trees.
He let his magic wrap around him as he stared into his own reflection, not really seeing himself, instead letting his mind wander as his magic spread out through the city, honing in on his desired target of the apartment building.
When he snapped back into his body, wrenching his mind out from its place outside his body as he dug his fingernails into his palm as hard as he could, nearly drawing blood with the effort of it.
He felt a pull in his navel that had him walking down the street, taking a sharp right. He kept walking, now recognising street signs as he walked by them. People on the street didn’t look twice at him. There were no pitying looks sent his way, no side-eyes from the equally abused kids in the trailer park as they ignored the mottled bruises on each other's faces. The only reason people looked at him particularly was when they, in a rush, didn’t realise that he was wheeling his bike by his side and almost tripped over it.
The walk was longer than he expected, but he didn’t get lost again thanks to the basic tracking spell he’d cast. The street he ended up on was barely populated. There was a seedy general store on one side of the street, a laundromat with an old woman smoking outside, and a couple old, redbrick apartment buildings.
The other side of the street was taken up by the old factory that housed Monmouth apartment complex. There was a wide carpark made of scrubby grass and dust-coated gravel. The bright orange Camaro that had been on the listing photos was parked outside, joined by a shark-nosed charcoal BMW, a cherry red mustang and an old, beat-up Ford.
Adam carefully leaned his bike against the wall, making a mental note to go ask the superintendent of the building where would be the best place to keep it, because there wasn’t anywhere to chain it outside.
He reached out for the door handle, but before he could even touch it, the door flew up, slamming into the wall with a bang.
There were three women and a man in the lobby of the apartment building, a strange tableau. The three women didn’t seem to care about the door banging open, but the young man in the polo startled and turned toward him with wide eyes.
“Oh.” Adam said, withdrawing his hand and eyeing the door skeptically, “Um. Hello.”
“Hello.” The other man said, a fake politician’s smile on his face. There was a certain wariness behind his eyes, “How can I help you?”
Adam adjusted his bag on his back, “I’m the new tenant? Apartment 4c? I, um, spoke to someone on the phone a few days ago?”
The man turned to the three women, who had paused their conversation to listen to Adam speak.
A short, stockily-built woman shrugged under his scrutinising gaze, “The apartment reappeared last week.”
Adam wasn’t going to try and even make sense of that statement.
“Maura.” The man said, “I understand that you’re taking initiative, but I’m hurt that you’d go behind my back to list the building with Ronan or I’s permission.”
“She didn’t.” Said one of the other women. She was a floaty, insubstantial looking thing, with clouds of fluffy white hair that almost blended into her frothy white dress. Her voice was so small that Adam had to strain to hear her, “It listed itself.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, incredulous, “Wow. Okay. I – sorry, my good man. I apologise. Please, come in.”
As soon as Adam stepped into the threshold, the door swung closed behind him. He jumped slightly, and then cast his eyes downward, embarrassed.
“I suppose I’ll show you to your apartment, then.” Said the man. He beckoned Adam towards a set of stairs, “It’s just up here. We don’t have an elevator, which I do apologise for. I’m not as bad off as you, though. I’m only on the second floor.”
Adam hummed in vague agreement.
The stairs weren’t that bad, but Adam could absolutely see himself getting annoyed at them when he came home, tired, from work. But a fourth floor apartment all to himself was far better than living in a trailer with his parents.
There had been more doors on the floors they had passed, but there were only two on the fourth floor. There was space for more, but the doors were just not there.
Gansey gestured grandly at one of the doors, “This is your place. And I have just realised that the door hasn’t provided itself with any keys, so–”
“Sorry?” Adam broke in, immediately cringing at himself for interrupting someone he had only just meant, “It didn’t provide itself with keys?”
“Ah, yes.” Gansey thumbed his lower lip, “This building. Well, it really did exist, at one point, but it had major structural issues and had to be demolished. I bought out the land before they could make some luxury apartments that no one could afford, and Ronan, the co-owner, dreamt Monmouth back into existence.”
“There’s a dreamer in the building?” Adam asked curiously. Dreamers weren’t really heard of – they made up slightly more than one percent of the world, at least those that chose to identify themselves on censuses. It was still dangerous to be a dreamer in this day and age, with people still thinking they were too powerful and wanting them gone. Adam had once gone on a rabbit-hole in the library and had researched a sect of extremist who thought that dreamers were going to bring about the end of the world.
“Yes.” Gansey said, and then his eyes hardened, “And I’d ask you to not spread that information outside the building.”
“Who would I tell?” Adam said, adopting a joking tone but entirely serious, “The only person I know in town is you.”
Gansey watched him for a moment, before clearly deciding that he didn’t harbour any ill intentions toward this mysterious dreamer somewhere in the house. He went to reach toward the door, and then faltered, “I – ah, well, I don’t quite know what to do without a pair of keys to give you. I suppose you could always try the door, and see if it’s unlocked?”
Adam was slightly concerned about the fact that this magical, possibly sentient house, didn’t actually seem to want him here, since it didn’t provide him with the means to actually enter, but he reached forward for the handle anyway.
Once again, his skin hadn’t even touched the metal of the doorhandle before the door was flying open with such force that it should have banged right into the wall behind it, but it seemed to have stopped itself before it could damage anything.
Gansey laughed, a taken-aback little thing – it was the first real thing that Adam had heard come out of his mouth, which made him quite curious as to what was underneath that perfectly polished mask that he wore.
“Huh. I suppose you don’t need keys, then. The house must like you.”
“So the house is sentient.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Gansey said, “Or, as far as we can tell, anyway. There isn’t a lot to look into about the true sentience of living things created by dreamers. But, from the living things that Ronan has created, we’re almost entirely sure that they have full autonomy over themselves.”
“Interesting.” Adam said, and took one step inside of the apartment. The building rumbled slightly, like it was humming with contentment. Maybe he had misread the situation. Maybe the house did like him – possibly something to do with his innate magic.
“I’ll leave you to get settled, then.” Gansey said, and clapped Adam on the shoulder. Adam tried to hide his flinch, and was clearly successful because Gansey smiled broadly at him and strode off down the hallway.
Adam listened to the sound of Gansey’s retreating footsteps, until there was only the murmur of the three women on the ground floor, too far away for Adam to overhear.
He closed the apartment door behind him and surveyed his surroundings. The kitchen was nicely done, not too out of date, and from the looks of it, none of the appliances were breaking. He spent a little while checking everything over in the kitchen, and was perfectly happy with it. It was at least double the size of the tiny little kitchen in the trailer.
The apartment itself could have fit the inside of the trailer into it three times, which meant he had a lot of room to grow. And grow he would have to, because there was no other furniture aside for some dark green curtains hanging heavy over the large windows.
The bathroom was all in working order, which he was incredibly thankful for, and the bedroom happened to have both a double mattress and a bedframe to put it on. He’d have to get some bedding at some point, but he didn’t think his budget would stretch enough for that at the moment, so he’d just have to wear an extra set of clothes to bed to keep him warm, at least for the moment.
He didn’t have much to unpack, only clothes and the book he had been gifted at Boyd’s. He didn’t, however, have a dresser or any form of bookshelf, so he had to fold his clothes and store them in one of his kitchen cupboards, leaving the book on the side.
With nothing else left to do, he spread some magical feelings around himself, trying to trace the history of the apartment.
He only spread his magic out the tiniest bit before he reared it back into himself, clutching it close to his chest as his heart jackhammered.
The vibes of the apartment were awful. He couldn’t find it within himself to try and push his magic out again, or to run the kitchen sink enough to scry and find out what had happened in this place.
There was just something inherently wrong. It invaded all of his senses, smelling like tragedy and tasting rotten on his tongue. Someone had died here, and not by something as normal as old age. No, someone had died horrifically in this room. The woman over the phone had told him someone had died there, but she hadn’t mentioned how horrific it had been. He could feel it in his bones.
He swallowed down the horrible flavour, and then calmed his wildly beating heart as well as he could, and tried to push his magic out again in a vain attempt to sync his magic with this new space.
It was impossible. He would have to live with discomfort until he could find an apothecary and come up with a proper ritual to rid the space of the negative energy. He’d be able to live there, but he’d have that horrible feeling clinging to him until he’d lived there long enough for his energy to overtake the space enough that he could live there comfortably.
The itch under his skin led him to leave his apartment, not really sure what he was going to do, but with the vague plan of trying to find somewhere where he could get food and kitchenware. As if the building could read his thoughts – or his magical signature, maybe – as soon as he stepped into the hallway, the door closed gently behind him, locking with a snick.
As if the noise had alerted it, the door down the hall opened. Just a crack, at first, and then a lot wider, revealing a tall figure.
Adam blinked at him.
Adam didn’t know what he had expected from his neighbour, but based on Gansey and the three women in the hallway, he had expected someone… normal. Well, the three women in the hallway hadn’t been particularly normal looking, especially the pale one, but Gansey had seemed rich and perfect.
Whatever image of his neighbour he had had in his mind, it hadn’t been the man standing in front of him. He was tall and pale, with a shaved head, a tight tank top that did nothing to cover a good amount of cut muscle, and also revealed a crawling tattoo that snaked its way from his back up to his neck and shoulders.
The man took a few long strides forward, and then he was in Adam’s space, somehow hulking over him despite the fact that there was only a couple of inches between their height, maximum.
“Who the fuck are you?”
It was such a shame when hot people were mean. It was such a waste of a good thing.
Adam couldn’t help his instinct to cower. He wasn’t good with anger. Everything reminded him of his father.
“The fuck are you doing in here?”
Adam took a few steps back. He would have gone further, but his heel clipped the wall, forcing him to stop, “I just moved in today.”
“No one’s moved in here for years.” The man snarled, “Try again.”
Adam squared his shoulders, trying to push down his fear. This wasn’t his father, this was just a random man he didn’t know, “Well someone moved in today, asshole, so you try again.”
“I think I’d fucking know if someone moved into the building I own.”
This must be the dreamer that Gansey had talked about earlier. Roman? Rowan? Adam had been too busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that the building he’d just moved into was sentient.
“Only the house knew I moved in.” Adam snapped, “The house, and the woman I talked to on the phone. Your friend Gansey didn’t seem to have a problem with me.”
The man’s lips curled back in a sneer, “Gansey isn’t right about everything.”
Downstairs, there was a clatter that drew both of their attention, and then Gansey was jogging up the stairs with one of the women from before, Maura, behind him and, behind her, a mini-Maura.
“Ronan.” Gansey said, voice strident and controlled. He put a hand on the man’s – Ronan, not Roman – shoulder.
For a long, pregnant moment, Ronan kept staring daggers at Adam. Then his eyes flickered to Gansey, “The fuck is this guy doing here?”
“Maura only told me today.” Gansey said, voice placating like he was trying to soothe a wild animal, “The apartment re-appeared the other day. The house put itself up for rent, right at the time that Adam was looking for somewhere to stay. Henry looked into the site traffic – two people looked at the listing before Adam did, but it kicked them off the site.”
Adam blinked at him. What was that supposed to mean? What was Gansey implying – that the house had chosen him?
“Monmouth likes him.” Gansey said, “I know it’s a shock, but it’s fine.”
Adam’s eyes darted between the two men in front of him, and then over to Maura and the shorter woman he assumed was her daughter. He couldn’t properly figure out the dynamics between them all at the moment, but it seemed like Gansey and Ronan were close – not just ‘best friend’ close, even though Adam didn’t have much of a reference for that sort of relationship. They seemed more like brothers.
Ronan stood there and seethed for a long time, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
Then he ripped his shoulder out from under Gansey’s grip, and stalked over to his apartment door.
But the door wouldn’t open. No matter how much Ronan rattled the handle, it remained steadfastly shut.
Ronan slammed his palm into the door, “Open the fuck up, shitbrain.”
The house was still.
Ronan tried the door handle again, and then swore, long and almost melodic, each word choice perfectly crafted to come across the most offensive to the ears of everyone around. He pounded his fist into the door again, “Come the fuck on, Monmouth, I don’t fucking have time for this. Open the fucking door.”
There was a long beat of silence, broken only by the quiet snicker of Maura’s daughter, which made Ronan turn around and glare at her. She stuck her tongue out at him.
As soon as Ronan turned his murderous gaze back on the door, the lock clicked open and the door swung open a few inches. There was something about the movement that was meek, apologetic.
Ronan’s hand smoothed down the doorframe, almost like an apology for yelling at it, and stormed into his apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Gansey sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sorry about that. Ronan can get… possessive.”
“He’s an asshole.” Maura’s daughter said cheerfully, “You get used to him eventually. Mostly. Anyway, I’m Blue. It’s really nice to meet you.”
He pushed down the shaken feeling that was rising up in his body, the consequence of such a massive change combined with getting yelled at. His body was all coiled and tense, readying for a blow that wouldn’t come.
“Hi.” He said, embarrassed of the slight tremor in his voice. He took the hand she offered him, shook it “I’m Adam.”
“I’ve heard.” She said, a sparkle of humour in her eyes, “Ronan’s the least friendly of us in the house, so if you ever need anything, you can come find Gansey and I – we live on the second floor, and Monmouth made a little pneumatic tube system between our place and my mom’s place. My entire family makes up the first floor, and while they’re all separate apartments they are all connected so everyone can go between places.”
Adam nodded, making a mental map, trying to remember all the names that were being thrown at him.
Maura, having apparently decided that everything was resolved, started off down the stairs again. Blue followed, gesturing for Adam and Gansey to go off with her.
“Noah’s on the second floor. He’s a bit reclusive, but he’s sweet and a good time once you get to know him.” Blue continued, “Henry’s also on the second floor. He’ll probably come up and say hi at some point, he’s very friendly. The twins – Jordan and Hennessy – are there as well, but they’re both very busy. Not around much. It’s only you and Ronan on the third floor, though.”
“Okay.” Adam said, “The building seems a lot bigger than it is.”
“Oh, there are other apartments.” Gansey said, “But they disappear when they’re not needed. It was strange that your apartment decided to turn up, but I guess it’s all worked out well now.”
Adam didn’t think he’d been in Monmouth long enough to be making statements like that, but he didn’t want to burst Gansey’s bubble, so he didn’t speak his thoughts out loud. Instead he said, “Do you know where I could go and get some kitchen stuff? I moved in a rush and couldn’t bring anything with me.”
It wasn’t the most forthcoming of statements, and even to his own ears it sounded shifty, like an excuse.
If either Blue or Gansey found what he had said suspicious, they didn’t say anything. Instead Gansey spilled into a long explanation about how he could find his way to an IKEA and then a Walmart.
Blue watched him, bemused, and then added on the buses he could get to either of those places, but also some closer place he could get to on foot.
“Thanks.” Adam said, “I’ll see you around.”
He took a few steps toward the main door, only for Blue to pipe up behind him, “Oh, Adam?”
He turned, “Yeah?”
“My mom’s hosting a building-wide dinner party tonight, and she asked me to invite you. It’s not gonna be a fancy thing, but she thought it would be a good way for you to introduce yourself to everyone.”
Adam chewed on his lower lip. He didn’t think it’d be a very good idea to get attached to people, just for them to realise everything that was wrong with him. But he also didn’t want to make things awkward too early by outright dismissing social invites.
“I’ll have to see if I’ve got time.”
“That’s alright!” Blue beamed at him, “You’re still moving in, everyone understands. But we’re always around if you want to talk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Also, is there somewhere I can keep my bike? There’s nowhere to lock it up outside.”
“You can just keep it in the entryway, if you’d like.” Gansey said, “I’ll see you soon, Adam.”
Adam hummed vaguely. The apartment door opened for him, staying open to allow him to wheel his bike inside and lean it against the side of the stairwell.
Blue and Gansey had disappeared back up the stairs, assumedly to their own apartment, so Adam headed out. He had a few hours to get everything he needed before stores would close, so Adam decided to take Blue’s on foot directions to get where he needed to go.
He wasn’t used to the bustling nature of the city, but it didn’t take him long to adjust. He walked quickly to keep with the flow of the crowd, and stepped around the slow walkers like the rest of the city folk did.
He didn’t end up at the store that Blue had told him to go to, but that was because he’d walked by a big thrift shop that looked like it had a good home goods section. He might be able to get some other clothes so his neighbours wouldn’t realise that he had a whole three outfits in his apartment.
He obviously couldn’t find matching sets of anything, but he did find a plate with painted pigs around the edge for only a dollar, a ‘best teacher’ mug, and a highball glass that had been shittily handpainted on. He’d have to go to that store Blue had recommended to get utensils and actual pots and pans, but this was a good start. And it was cheap.
He found a pair of jeans with only minor wearing at the hems for twelve dollars, which was a steal because they were a good brand that he could keep wearing without easy roughage, and a few shirts that would break up his outfits more so they looked without actually being all that different.
He paid for his stuff, cringing at the price of it, even though it was all majorly discounted, and then made his way over to the store Blue had told him about, where he got a set of a pot and a frying pan, a baking try, and a spatula, cutlery and wooden spoon.
He took a loop back towards Monmouth, stopping at Target to get a basket of cheap, unhealthy frozen food and canned soup. It wasn’t a lot, and it reminded him of what his mom used to make him the few times she could be bothered to remember that he existed.
But he’d have to deal with it, because he couldn’t exactly afford anything nicer and more nutritious before he hadn’t gotten his first paycheck, especially when he was going to have to furnish his apartment as well.
And, on his way back, because he was in a good mood, he bought himself a small fern that would spruce up his apartment. He reasoned it with himself, justifying it by telling himself that it would help the apartment adjust to his magical energy by having even the smallest bit of the forest near him. But, really, it just made him happy.
Monmouth welcomed him easily when he got back, swinging the door open and shuddering ever so slightly, like it was pleased. He took the stairs, his door opening for him and closing behind him without him having to touch it at all.
He put all of his things away. It wasn’t much, but it was his. Only his. Not a parent in sight, or in mind. He wondered if his parents had even noticed he was gone yet. He wondered if they’d care. Probably not.
The idea of sitting sadly alone and eating canned soup for dinner on his first night of freedom wasn’t really appealing, so he instead turned on his oven and cooked up some of his frozen ready-meal pasta – two servings, despite how that made him cringe at losing an extra day of food.
When it was ready, he served it onto his singular plate, and made his way downstairs.
Suddenly nervous as he reached the first floor, he lingered in the hallway, having also realised that he didn’t know which apartment belonged to Maura.
Luckily, one of the doors opened, letting in a stream of warm white light and the smell of baking pie.
Blue’s head popped out of the door, “Adam! You came! Persephone said you would.”
She stood to the side, making enough room to invite Adam inside.
He shook his nerves off and took a halting step inside, where all his senses were immediately assaulted. There were people everywhere, at least three things were being cooked at once. There were pretty pink fairylights on the wall that mingled with a lamp with a red lampshade, which mixed with the flickering candles on the table. Everyone was talking to each other, many different conversations ebbing and flowing to create an absolute cacophony of sounds.
It was the exact opposite of the family dinners that he was used to. Well, he wasn’t used to any family dinners, because his parents hated his existence, but the few times that he and his parents happened to be eating at the same time it had been a silent, tense affair. Adam would make as little noise as possible and slip away as soon as his food was done, and his mother would be tense in case his father decided the food wasn’t up to his expectations.
Blue’s family was exactly what Adam thought a big happy family would be. Noisy and eclectic and full of love.
Maura hustled over to him from where she was stirring something on the stove, smiling at him, “Adam! Oh, and you brought food. You didn’t need to do that. But thank you, very thoughtful.”
Adam couldn’t tell whether she was being sincere or not. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as Maura took the pasta off him and put it under the grill to keep it warm, “Thank you for inviting me, ma’am.”
“Oh, it’s just Maura. Ma’am makes me feel old. And it’s no problem at all. Gansey’s over talking to some of the others around your age in the next room over, if you want to go and join them. Food should be ready soon. Feel free to take any drinks you want.”
She gestured to a varied and rather impressive selection of alcohol and mixers. Adam nodded at her, bypassed the alcohol entirely, and gently eased himself into the next room over.
Gansey paused his conversation, brightening when he noticed Adam lingering awkwardly in the doorway, “Adam!”
“Hi.” He said, fighting the urge to fidget as the other eyes in the room turned toward him. He hadn’t known Blue for long, but he suddenly wished she was there with him, because he at least knew her, and she was a friendly face. The other people in the room that he knew were Gansey, and Ronan, who was decidedly not a friendly face.
“This is Adam Parrish, everyone.” Gansey said to the group at large, “He’s just moved in upstairs.”
Sitting next to Ronan on the couch were two women who looked exactly like each other, hair styled the same way, the same twining tattoos of flowers around their neck. One of them wore an artfully shredded band shirt splashed with paint, the other a tight halter neck top. These must be twins that Blue had mentioned earlier.
“‘Sup.” Said the twin in the halter top, “I’m Hennessy. This is Jordan. We don’t care if you get us confused.”
Adam nodded at them, eyes already roving for one thing to tell them apart, but he couldn’t find one. They were entirely identical, down to the beauty mark on their right cheek. They had to have been doing it intentionally – there was no way that even the most identical twins would be clones of each other.
A pale, smudgy man who looked like he had been put in the tumble dryer and left there until he wrinkled, introduced himself as Noah, and the incredibly sparkly man with hair that defied gravity reached out to shake Adam’s hand magnanimously and introduced himself as Henry.
They all went back to their conversation, body language open to Adam but not forcibly involving him too much. Letting him join in if he wanted to, but also letting him choose when he wanted to be a part of the conversation.
That carried on when Maura yelled across the apartment that food was ready.
Three different tables had been pushed together, clearly carted in through other apartments. A variety of chairs, none of which matched, were sandwiched close to each other and the table. A dozen different dishes were set out in the middle for people to take from, potluck style. It made Adam feel strangely warm to see his pasta, as shitty and lacking in effort as it was, in the middle of all the food created with love for this dinner party. Like he finally fit in somewhere.
Adam didn’t talk much as he ate, but he complimented the cooking, and laughed when Gansey stuck his foot in his mouth and managed to offend nearly everyone. He learned that all of Blue’s family, aside from Blue, were psychics. Persephone told him his magic was very potent, and then served him a thick slab of the most delicious pie Adam had ever had in his life.
He didn’t fully feel like he fit in, but he thought he might actually be on his way to making friends for the first time in his life.
Ronan, who had looked pissed off when Adam walked in, had loosened up and was jokingly arguing with Hennessy about if the Mission Impossible movies had any merit as works of cinema. He didn’t seem to care that Adam was there anymore, which was Adam’s ideal.
As he sat and observed and ate some truly delicious food, he figured out the dynamics between the people around him, analysing what he had in common with people, where he could fit in. A bit antisocial, maybe, but he didn’t really know how to go about the ‘making friends’ business. This was the first time in his life that he could.
Because he was free now.