[6:41PM, November 13, UTC ±00:00]

Henri held the phone away from his ears; far enough to avoid damaging his ear drums, yet close enough to know when to slip in the occasional response. His mother went on an awful gut-wrenching tirade about how much she missed him and how it wouldn't be the same without him and whatever else she thought would serve as adequate emotional blackmail. But he had made up his mind. He was sticking to his decision.

"There's really no need to come back. I have exams as soon as the holidays are over."
"But it's Christmas! We can't spend Christmas without you."
"Yes, you can. I'll try to come home after the exams."
"But-"
"It's fine Mama. I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."
"But you'll be all alone!"
"Don't worry," he said, glancing sideways. He tried to keep his voice levelled. "My roommate will be around too."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Alright then, as long as you have company. Well, you boys take care. Study hard. I'll miss you terribly."

Henri mentally sighed in relief. He hadn't imagined it would work, but at least it got her to be quiet.

"I know Mama. I'll miss you too. Love you. Bye."
"Love you too. Greet your-"

Henri hung up and tossed the phone on the table. He had been dreading this phone call, but he was glad he'd gotten it over with. With his upcoming exams, extra credit courses to sort through and assignments to complete, it gave him less to think about.

Now, if only this housing thing would fall through, I'd be really happy.

He spared a sideways glance at the large mass lying on the opposite bed, stretched out on his stomach with headphones over his head, laughing at whatever stupid show he was watching. The guy laughed way too loud, spent too much time lifting weights and used so much perfume that the entire room stank of it.

Probably trying to cover up his own stink.

In all the things Henri had imagined could ruin his great opportunity in Southampton University – from failing to get the scholarship to his father's refusal to being unable to speak English constantly – he hadn't factored in the simple scenario of being housed with someone he couldn't stand. Due to the tedious process of getting his academic documents sorted, he'd handed in his accommodation forms late, so hadn't had the opportunity to switch like many of the early comers. And this, he supposed, was his punishment; a whole semester to be spent with a loud, oversized ugly African. Henri had done his best to avoid fraternizing by spending as much time away from the room as possible and limiting all his replies to one word. When the guy realized that they wouldn't be friends any time soon, he respected himself enough to stay out of Henri's way. And Henri was grateful for that.

He looked back at his pile of books and sighed. He was nearly done with the assignment at this point, but he couldn't get himself to concentrate on it. Somehow, his gaze kept drifting back to his roommate. The guy was quiet now, but his large eyes were still fixed on the screen, and every once in a while he would smile. Henri was contemplating ways to get away with homicide when there was a knock on the door. He decided to sit still and pretend to be busy, waiting for his roommate to get it – after all, it was bound to be one of his friends. The knocking continued; he probably couldn't hear anything with those overpriced headphones on. But once he started laughing again, Henri decided that one source of annoyance was all he could bear.

He opened the door.

"Hi, is Kwabena around?"

Henri stood speechless. Their visitor was tall – almost his height – with sandy blonde hair, high cheek bones and a dimple in her left cheek. Her blue sweater wasn't baggy enough to hide her curves, and the black skinny jeans she wore showed off perfectly toned legs that ended in ankle high boots. She was by far the most beautiful girl he had seen since he stepped on the shores of England. It took him a few seconds to realize he was staring. And that whatever she said never made it to his brain.

"Um...who?"
"I thought this was his room."
"Whose room?"
"Kwabena."

Henri couldn't help his scowl. She gave him a strange look and peered over his shoulder. Her face lit up as she recognized his roommate and she muttered an 'excuse me' as she walked past him and jumped on the unsuspecting bastard. Kwabena paused the video turned around with an annoyed expression, which quickly brightened into laughter. He tried to raise her sweater and tickle her but she fought him off. Henri tried to ignore the uncomfortable tightening in his chest as he looked at them, and had a fleeting thought that they looked like circus monkeys. Well, one of them does.

"What are you watching?" she asked. Kwabena turned back to the laptop.
"Big Bang Theory."
"Do you have the latest season?"
"Downloading," he replied smugly. "Still watching season three. I just started."
"Seriously? This stuff's been around for ages."
"I know. My brother used to make so much noise about it and I thought it was just one of those other sitcoms. I've been laughing so hard since I started."

Henri rolled his eyes. Don't remind me.

Kwabena stopped talking and looked at him, and the girl turned around too.

"What's wrong?" she said, looking around for something.
"He's staring," Kwabena said.

The girl focused on Henri and tilted her head sideways.

"Can we help you with something?" she said brashly.

Henri only blinked. He couldn't come up with any reply, mainly because he never imagined that she would talk to him. Even though it wasn't in the kindest manner. She sighed, looking irritated.

"Ignore him," she said, turning back to the laptop. "Maybe he'll go away."

Henri glared at her and fought down the rage bubbling inside. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what made him so furious; it was something between how she was so comfortable around Kwabena to how she dismissed him like he was some insignificant insect. Or the bit of jealousy he felt at the sight of her, laughing carelessly with someone he felt didn't deserve her attention. Or maybe it was the rising hate targeted at Kwabena for taking such a beautiful girl away from him and all the others of her own kind, people who surely had better things to offer. He couldn't tell how long he stood there, watching them talk about random things like their plans for the night and what they would do with the rest of the weekend.

It was only when they started kissing that he decided he'd seen enough.

*----------*

Henri's ears stung as he stomped through the frigid street towards the local pub. He had never bothered to learn the name, and he saw no reason to do so tonight, not with the kind of night he had planned. He still felt the fire in his veins as he thought about what had happened in the room. He couldn't take his mind off the girl, with her flawless face and stunning green eyes, sucking face with that...

His face slammed into the pub door and he pulled back and held his nose, checking for blood. He'd forgotten that the door needed to be pushed with a little force before it opened. Using his shoulder, he barged in, narrowly avoiding a girl who walked past with two beer glasses. The place was exactly how he expected it to be on a Friday night, filled with rowdy students and only a handful of people from town. To one side, a group of boys were playing darts and a particularly large table was crowded with people, chatting excitedly. The music was some strange folk and techno mix, energetic, but not loud. The bar itself was full, and everyone was trying to get the bartender to take their order. Henri squeezed through the crowd and got to the front, but even then it was a hustle for attention. After a few minutes, the bar cleared a bit and he actually managed to find a free stool, where he sat and tried not to look back at the noisy horde. He ordered a cocktail of vodka and Red Bull and sipped slowly, trying to think of something other than how irritated he felt.

He tried to imagine why she was with him. Was she doing it to be rebellious, or was there something appealing about Kwabena that he couldn't see? He couldn't fathom what it could be; the guy was loud, obnoxious and possibly dangerous. Although, when Henri reconsidered it, he thought everyone in Southampton was that way, to varying degrees. Was it looks? Kwabena wasn't ugly, if he wanted to be honest, but he wasn't stunning either, not that Henri could imagine how someone with such dark skin could look good. Or maybe it was his intelligence; despite what Henri's father often claimed about blacks, Kwabena was actually very bright, smart enough to be studying Physiotherapy. Kwabena also didn't like rap music, something Henri found odd, but then he felt it was just an exception to the rule. Though, when he thought about it, there were many other things that Kwabena was an exception for, including his social status – his parents were wealthy – and his aversion to violence, even though he was built like a club bouncer.

Maybe it's the sex.

He was on his fifth drink – beer, because they were cheaper than cocktails – when a loud bang came from beside him. He turned in annoyance, and met a familiar smile.

"Henri? Man, it's been ages!"

Henri sighed and struggled to smile back. Jonas was one of the people he had befriended in class, back when he was still trying to get his bearings on campus. He was lively and jovial, and just a little vulgar, but Henri accepted it as part of the package. But Henri wasn't in the mood tonight; he just wanted some solitude and a chance to brood with his thoughts. The bar scene was for the drinks, but mainly for the ambience

"Yes," he replied, hoping Jonas would take the hint and go away. No such luck.
"What's up? Why you sittin' 'ere, looking like the world just ended? Come on, it's a party! Don't tell me it's because of a girl?"

Henri barely thought through the question before he replied. "Yes."
"Wow, really?" Jonas looked dramatically surprised. "I mean, no offence, but a lot of us thought you were a poof. God knows you already look it."
Henri scowled at the comment. "I'm not gay."
"So who is she?" Jonas asked without missing a beat.
Henri sighed. "I don't know."
"You don't know? You're here, drinking away your liver over someone you don't know?"
"I mean, I don't know her name."
"Oh. So you were smitten eh? She turned you down? Where did you meet her?"

Henri could feel a headache coming from trying to keep up with the questions. He ignored the first two and answered the last.

"In my room. She came to my room."
"Why? Was she lost?" Jonas asked, laughing lightly.
"No, she came to see my roommate."

Jonas frowned and seemed to think, before he gave a comical side glance.

"Is it Ellen?"
Henri blinked. "Who?"
"Tall, blonde, looks like a model with a lot of attitude?"

So that's her name. Henri nodded. The description was tacky, but it fit. Jonas guffawed, which drew enough attention to make Henri feel self-conscious. When he calmed down, he looked at Henri with an expression that resembled pity.

"Man, you're serious?"
"Yes. I don't understand why you're laughing."
"No offence, but she is way out of your league."
"But she's dating a black, how is that out of my league?"

Jonas narrowed his eyes. His only response after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence was a flat "Wow."

The people behind Henri yelled "Surprise!" and cheered, and Jonas quickly got up to join them. Henri barely glanced at him as he left. The retort had left him confused; he was sure he caught a hint of disapproval in there but he was a little too drunk to care. The pub latecomers had arrived at this point and the bar was crowded again. Henri held on to his glass and cursed as he was repeatedly nudged from the sides by people picking up drinks. He gulped down the rest of his beer and joined in the hustle for the next drink. He had just grabbed the barman's attention and was in the middle of his order when a group of guys with ridiculously low cut hair slammed on the bar from the opposite side.

"Oi! Bartender!"

The bartender excused himself and went to take their order. Henri raised his hands in bewildered frustration.

 "Pardon!" he yelled, automatically cursing himself for reverting in language. Maybe he was really drunk. "Excuse me," he corrected, "I called you f-"
"Toss off, frenchie," One of them sneered. "He's not serving wine today."

Henri glared at the offending speaker, wondering how his remark was relevant. I never even mentioned wine. He turned back to the bartender and did his best to ignore the brood of troublemakers.

"Hey, I wasn't finished. I said I'll have a"
"Oi, shut up! You confusin' 'im." Another one called back. Henri thought this one looked like his face had been bashed in with a sledgehammer.
"But I was here first," Henri shouted back.
"No you wasn't. Wait your turn like others."

Henri seethed and showed him the middle finger before looking away. His head was throbbing painfully now. This was why he hated getting worked up when he was drinking – he even avoided conversation if he could help it.

The next thing he realized, he was being dragged off his barstool and flashes of white as pain exploded in his temple. His vision swam and he noticed that the bar area had cleared suddenly. Smashed Face was holding him by the collar, slackening his favourite sweater. Before Henri could react, a headbutt connected with his nose, causing him to cry out feebly.

"Thought you could just come in here and disrespect us? In my own fucking country?"

Another punch. More pain. Henri felt too disoriented and uncoordinated to retaliate. His assailant mocked maliciously.

"Can't even fight back. Ha! Guess it's true what they say about you frenchies."
"That's enough!" someone shouted from behind Henri. But most of the sounds were mixed in with his groan as he suffered a punch to the gut. He was pulled out of the man's grasp and a large body stood between them, blocking off any further assault. The man backed away and Henri started to stir as his nose picked up on a very familiar perfume.

And then he threw up.

*----------*

Henri couldn't remember most of what happened between the pub and the student hall. He had drifted in and out of consciousness during the journey, but was brought back to awareness by an ice cold object held against the side of his head. He grimaced and opened his eyes to see Ellen and Kwabena standing over him. The sting of jealousy returned, but the combination exhaustion, pain and inebriation kept it at bay. He looked away instead, and was surprised to see wads of blood-stained toilet paper on his study table. Ellen noticed this and quickly raised the waste bin to throw in the offending items.

"You alright?" Kwabena asked.

Henri nodded. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond, and was thankful the wound he was nursing gave him an excuse to avoid conversation. Ellen sighed tiredly and kissed Kwabena on the cheek.

"Well, there goes your party."
Kwabena laughed. "You guys really got me. I told you I don't like surprises."
"And you thought I listened?" She smiled and yawned. "Well, I'm knackered. Happy birthday baby." She kissed him on the mouth and glanced at Henri as she walked towards the door. "Take care of him. I'll go tell the guys you're probably not coming back."
Kwabena raised his eyebrows. "You're goin' back to the pub?"
"It's Friday night," she replied, grinning. "Besides, someone's got to eat the cake."

She chuckled and closed the door. Kwabena sighed deeply and slowly turned his attention back to Henri. Henri felt truly uncomfortable now, somehow Ellen's presence had been a buffer their social situation. Kwabena's gaze seemed a mix of stern and pitying.

"What were you thinking? You don't go pissing off skinheads. I've seen 'em guys stab fellas for a lot less"

Henri blinked and stayed silent. After that bit of pub craziness, he certainly wasn't expecting a lecture, or for Kwabena to be as calm about this as he was. And Henri really didn't have any replies to offer. He was still coming to grips with the fact that despite all the bad things he had thought and had to say about Kwabena, and despite the fact that he had done his best to keep him at arm's length for the better part of the last three months, the guy has still stepped in and saved him from being beaten to a pulp. After a whole minute of staring, he said the only thing that could come to mind.

"I'm sorry."

Kwabena shrugged and started taking off his hoodie. Henri noticed the blood stains on his left shoulder, as well as something that looked a lot like dried vomit, which cleared any doubts about who had carried him back. He couldn't understand the conflicting emotions he felt inside, the newfound admiration grating against the wall of mistrust and anger he had held onto for so long, and when it felt like it couldn't be contained anymore, he voiced his mental disarray in a single question.

"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you...so different? Why are you helping me? Why?"

Kwabena smiled and shook his head slowly.

"Just because you think I'm some sort of monster doesn't mean I have to be one."

Henri could only stare. Kwabena threw the sweater into his laundry bin, and then said something about going to get more ice from their neighbour. Henri closed his eyes as he was left in silence, his thoughts ruminating over the events of the night and what Kwabena had said. Why did he really believe that Kwabena was a bad person? Was it due to his father's ideologies? Movie stereotypes of black people? Personally, he had very little experience with black people, and could only count about five that he had met in his life, many of which weren't as dreadful as he'd initially presumed. He sighed. Maybe this was just one good experience out of countless bad ones that he could have suffered.

Or maybe I'm the one who's trying to make this into something worse than it is.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rapping sound coming from the window. He sighed. Probably some bird or squirrel. He sat still for about a minute and tried to ignore it, but it was persistent. He got up to shoo the animal away, cursing away in French. As soon as he opened the window, it flew in and circled the room. He was about to yell at it when it turned smoky black and flapped towards the centre. Feathers withered into skin, wings grew into arms and fingers, skinny feet thickened as they lengthened, claws shrank and the entire form morphed like unnatural wet clay. At the end of the visually disturbing transformation, Oliver stood, looking mildly irritated. Henri groaned.

This night just keeps getting better.

"What the..." Henri hissed "How did you find me? You shouldn't be here, someone could see you!"
"Put a sock in it, Ku Klux. We have bigger problems."

Henri blinked in confusion while Oliver peered around angrily.

"What problems?"
"Nathan has betrayed us. He joined Hiene."

Henri's surprise lasted barely a moment before he shook his head slowly. Of course he betrayed us. He'd always had his suspicions about the old mage, especially with the way Nathan had been so willing to abandon him and Portia on the day they first met. He'd also never been as supportive towards them as his sister. Perhaps he'd already