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The Dess-tination of Dess-tiny
by Epiphany at Midnight
Dedication: For Dess, who we all know is the main character in this story. Also, to my friends, who we all know are the other, supporting characters. Lastly, this fic goes out to very pretty boys named Shane, who are too good-looking for real life, but we'd all like to hope he wasn't a figment of our imagination after all. (May Zeus have mercy on my soul for writing this at all.)
Her roommate – her evil, manipulative, good-for-nothing roommate – had sneakily convinced her to go out last night. Claudine, high priestess of the Cult of Dionysus, and devotee to the Goddess of Slut, had guilt-tripped her into going out on a Wednesday night. Sure, she hadn’t really put up much of a fight – free wings at the Moose, after all – but Jessica had only bought one drink.
Claudine, however, had plied her with at least twelve others. Jessica was hung over, tired, and her head throbbed something awful.
“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”
Jessica turned her head, slightly, to the side. There was a boy sitting there, although how he’d gotten there she had no idea. “What?”
“Our project!” The boy seemed scandalized.
Jessica blinked at him in confusion, realized he couldn’t see because of the sunglasses, and so she tilted them upwards and squinted at him. “Who are you?”
His jaw dropped. “I’m Shane.”
She didn’t know if she knew a Shane, but he was pretty, so she gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay… what project?”
He squeaked. It was kind of cute. “The project we’ve been working on for two months!”
Jessica had no idea what he was talking about. However, he had Emo hair and was wearing mostly black, so she attempted to come up with a rational response. “What?”
“Baz Lhurman! The director! We’re doing a project…” he attempted to outline the basis of their assignment, but Jessica ignored this in favour of an epiphany.
“We’re working together?”
Shane gaped at her. “For TWO MONTHS.”
“On a project?”
He squeaked again. “Remember me borrowing Romeo and Juliet, and Moulin Rouge and… how can you not remember any of this? You gave me your notes on Strictly Ballroom last week! You’ve been researching like mad. You even managed to find that biography…”
Jessica understood his confusion. “This was a project?” She realized. “I just thought that was… y’know, for fun.”
He seemed slightly mollified. “Well, it is kind of fun… but, yeah.”
“And we’re working together?”
“We’ve been comparing notes for two months, Jess.”
“Wait, what?”
Shane was turning an interesting shade of magenta. It didn’t go with her hair at all, Jess thought morosely.
“Every week, for the past two months, we’ve compared notes before class, and during the break.”
Jessica vaguely remembered mentioning her favourite director, once, but that was before her morning coffee so the memory was hazy at best. “You mean, you didn’t just need my notes?”
He leaned back in his chair. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I think I need coffee.” Jessica commented, turning back to the professor, who was ignoring the whispered conversations of everyone else in the class. She doodled a flower on the corner of her notebook.
Shane groaned, stood up, and left.
Class continued.
Shane returned and handed her a coffee. Jessica mumbled her thanks and drank it. It was nice to drink coffee, but it didn’t help the hangover at all.
She was going to kill Claudine when she got back from class.
Her cell phone rang.
She swore, waxing eloquent on the many problems of having sisters, and then answered it. “Hello?” She croaked. Maybe she ought to drink some more coffee?
“Hey… uh, Jess? This is Lucas…”
“I think you have the wrong number.” She told the person on the other end, and hung up.
A nap would probably be the best thing right now.
Yes. A nap.
“If she got dumped by the guitarist, too, tell her to stop dating musicians!” Claudine hollered from her room.
Jessica mentally reminded herself to kill Claudine when she got the chance, and then answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey… uh… this is Lucas…. Lucas Vaughn? You gave me your number on Wednesday night… at the Moose?”
“Oh. Um, hello.” Jessica had no idea what to say. “Claudine!” She hissed, covering the receiver on her phone. “Why did you let me give out my cell phone number when I was drunk and at the bar?”
Claudine poked her head out of her room, looking amused and (as usual) slightly dazed. “He was a redhead. Reminded you of Rupert Grint, but older and without the charm. I did try to talk you out of it… wait, no, I talked you out of giving your phone number to the bar tender. Whoops. Sorry.”
Jessica liked redheads, so she returned the phone to her ear where she could hear the redheaded boy – she didn’t remember even TALKING to a redhead – stammering about something. “So, if you’re interested…?” he finished.
She had no clue what he was talking about. “Could you repeat that? My cell phone reception is kind of iffy.” She lied.
“Uh… I mean, obviously you’re busy, and stuff…”
“Just say the part where you were obviously going to offer to pay for something.” Jessica suggested.
“Movie?”
“Monday night.” Jessica agreed.
“Dinner?”
“No.” Jessica didn’t like eating in front of boys who were looking at her.
“Oh… I mean, obviously, you’re too busy… I guess I could-”
“I have class until six thirty.” Jessica told him, wondering what she was getting herself into. He had better not be a serial killer. Unless he was cute. “I then am going to return to my apartment, shower, microwave a ready-made meal, and you can pick me up at eight, and then we will go see that movie with Owen Wilson in it. And then, you can drop me off again and if I don’t hate you when I’m sober, we can do something more fun, next time.”
“Great!”
Jessica wondered if Lucas was an idiot, or if he just liked when other people told him what to do.
He did have idiotic tendencies, like playing football and thinking that golf was a sport, but he was male, so that was kind of a given.
He was a perfect gentleman and kissed her on the cheek when he dropped her off.
Jessica realized that he was gay (although, probably repressed) and consoled herself with having, at the very least, a new pretty thing to look at. Lucas had offered to buy her coffee, and that was always good. Jessica liked coffee; it helped her soul heal from the torment of having pretty gay boys love her as a friend.
She wondered if Lamb would like him.
Jessica had no idea what he was talking about. “What day of the week is it?” she asked him.
He glared at her. “It is Thursday. We have class, together, on Thursdays. This is why I am talking to you, because you said we could get together and watch the new film…”
He ranted for a while. Jessica noticed that he was wearing a pink Aladdin wristband. Hmm. Well, if he was gay, maybe she could set him up with Lamb…
Wait, she was setting Lucas up with Lamb. That wouldn’t work out. But then again, maybe she could set Shane up with Lucas? That would be kind of hot. Except, Lamb would be mad at her, then…
Hey, if she set Lucas up with Shane, they might be grateful enough to let her watch.
Screw Lamb.
“Jess?”
“Right. Movie.” Jessica nodded.
“I need directions to your place.” Shane reminded her gently.
Jessica drew him a map on a sheet of paper from her notebook, which had been liberally decorated with stars and a series of triangles which formed a heart. The dot she labelled as her apartment was kind of boring, so she turned it into a flower. And then she added another, and another, so the map (which now resembled a cracked-out prostitute version of a sky chart) had her apartment clearly labelled as a pile of flowers.
She put a rainbow in the corner.
Shane gave her a weird look.
After that, he was much saner.
On Tuesdays, Jessica and Lamb made fun of Claudine, who was scrambling to finish something for her Neuroscience class. Claudine ignored them as she worked, and then brought out shot glasses and a large bottle of whiskey to celebrate her accomplishment.
Wednesdays, Jessica slept in until two in the afternoon, and then made snarky comments to Lamb during class.
Thursdays, Jess received free coffee from Shane, who would irritate her throughout class by making her pay attention, and then they would work on their project. That was fun, because it involved watching movies, and Shane just wrote down everything Jessica said, and made it sound all interesting and professional. They worked very well together, like that.
Fridays and Saturdays usually involved an extraordinary amount of alcohol, very little sleep, and drunken good times while partying with friends, acquaintances, or (in some cases) perfect strangers.
“Hey, I thought Sheridan was dead?” Claudine commented.
“No, she faked her own death.” Jessica explained. “Because she had to protect Luis from Julian’s plan to destroy him.”
“Wait, isn’t Julian dead?” Claudine wondered.
“No, you’re thinking of Alistair.”
“Who the fuck is Alistair?”
Jessica waved her hands in frustration. “He’s the father!”
“Well then who is JULIAN? Wait, he’s the one who was boffing the black chick, right?” Claudine grinned. “Okay. The one with the bad hair and the irritating face. But… wasn’t Luis blackmailing him into leaving him alone?”
“That’s why Julian devised the plan to destroy Luis. When Sheridan faked her own death, she went into hiding and started drugging Julian, who now thinks she’s a figment of his imagination…”
“Hence his soliloquy on ensuring that nobody discovers his impending madness.” Nodding in understanding, Claudine turned back to Josh, who was staring at the television screen in confusion.
“Is that chick a witch?” He sounded confused.
“No, she stole the spellbook in an attempt to blackmail Tabitha into putting a curse on Eve.” Jessica informed him.
Claudine patted Josh on the head. “It makes sense if you watch two episodes. Now, back to Shakespeare…”
“I hate Shakespeare.” Josh told them.
“Did Theresa just try to seduce Fancy?” Claudine’s attention was riveted to the television.
“Holy shit.” Josh started paying attention.
After they watched Passions (in almost complete, reverent silence, as there had been a really interesting scene with Theresa in lingerie, and Fancy clearly redefining her sexual preferences, and then after the commercial break, Theresa was suddenly chained to a bed and Fancy had brought out a riding crop, right before walked in…) Tucker wandered into the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Jessica stared at her. “Okay, I know this is going to seem rude, and stuff, but why are you in my apartment?”
“I’m making dinner.” Tucker said this as if Jessica should have known.
“Yeah, I know… but why are you making dinner in my apartment?”
Tucker patted her on the head. “I’m making dinner for the two of you in exchange for letting Josh and I crash in your apartment this weekend.”
Jessica nodded as if she understood, although she was fairly certain she had never agreed to that. Claudine pushed a piece of paper in her direction. It said ‘the roommates were driving them insane’ and had a cute illustration of Josh with a large knife, grinning maniacally over a pile of ketchup – the ketchup was helpfully labelled “Kwadwo” and in the background, Tucker was suffocating Allie with what appeared to be Beth, or perhaps Beth’s torso.
There was a knock on the door.
“COME IN!” Tucker yelled.
Shane walked into the room, and everyone stared at him for a moment. In aesthetic appreciation. Because, he was fucking beautiful.
“Hey!” He grinned at Jessica. “Uh, you said that if I wanted I could hang out with you guys, tonight…”
It was a Friday. Jessica looked around the room and then nodded. “Yes, I said that. I think. Are we going out tonight, guys?”
Shane paled. “Going out? We can’t go out. I’m not dressed properly.”
Claudine stared up at him from her spot on the floor. “You… LOOK dressed. I mean, I’m fairly certain that I would have notice if you had been undressed.” Her eyes glazed over momentarily. “Mmm.”
Shane didn’t seem to notice that she’d spoken. “I’m not wearing my watch!”
O-kay… that was slightly odd.
“I’m not wearing any socks!”
Jessica sympathized.
“I’m not wearing any underwear!”
Claudine’s jaw dropped and she began blatantly staring at Shane’s nether regions. “Really?”
Jessica and Tucker were both equally speechless, staring at Shane as if he’d…. well, as if he’d just announced he was going commando underneath those extremely well-fitting jeans.
Josh looked horrified and nauseous. He was attempting to mime shooting himself in the head, while also giving the sign-language equivalent of “too much information.”
It was a feat of multi-tasking, and Jess thought it could only be made more entertaining if perhaps, he wasn’t getting in the way of her staring at Shane’s crotch. Because Claudine was a genius, sometimes, and always knew exactly the right thing to do in any situation.
“Will we be going to a bar?” Shane accidentally did a hip shimmy in his nervousness.
Claudine licked her lips and looked ready to pounce. Jessica accidentally dropped Josh’s book on her head.
“Yes.” Tucker nodded, and because Jessica and Claudine had, in a drunken fit of insanity, voted her their weekend spokesperson, that was how their plans were finalized.
Shane looked really worried. Josh looked apprehensive about going to a bar with a guy who’d just announced his lack of undergarments to a room full of people.
“By the way, I’m Shane.” Shane introduced himself to Tucker.
Tucker smiled and muttered something under her breath.
“Nice to meet you, my name is Shane.” He introduced himself to Josh.
Josh nodded. “I’m Shane. I mean Josh. I’m Josh, because that is my name.”
“Uh… Je suis Shane?” He introduced himself awkwardly to Claudine.
She beamed at him. “Bonjour, Shane. Je m’appelle Claudine. Comme ca va?”
“I don’t speak Spanish, crazy lady.” Shane stepped back from Claudine, a horrified, indignant expression on his face. He shot an incredulous, slightly terrified look at Jess, as if he couldn’t believe she LIVED with someone like that.
After about six minutes of laughing so hard she cried, Jess wiped the last tear from her eye and then moved over so Shane could sit next to her.
Claudine and Josh were involved in a very intense game of shot-glass chess.
“CHECKMATE!” Josh hollered, triumphant.
“Josh, stop playing my pieces! And, stop checkmating yourself!” Claudine drank her queen, and then refilled it. “You’re the white pieces, remember? Because the black goes with my outfit.”
Josh nodded and began sneaking sips from the bottle. “Why does this whiskey taste like orange pop?” He wondered out loud.
Jessica stole back her bottle of orange pop, handed Josh the whiskey, and then returned to the kitchen table, where Tucker and Shane were arm wrestling.
Tucker won.
Shane pouted for about half a second, and then lit up like a light bulb when Jessica presented him with the orange pop so he could chase his vodka shots.
Tucker sipped from her flask.
Lamb stood in the midst of the loud – oh, so loud – and tumultuous apartment. “Uh, is anybody going to notice I’m here?”
“LAMB!” Jessica hugged him.
“LAMB!” Claudine fell over a chair, and then hugged him.
“LAMB!” Tucker hugged him, and then tried to rub his head.
“Hey, what’s up, Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeemoooooo.” Josh giggled.
Lamb was horrified. Claudine quickly remedied this by lining up all of Josh’s ‘dead’ shot glasses (four pawns, a rook, and both knights) and filling them with booze before handing them to him.
He tossed them all back like a champ, stole the orange pop to wash away the taste, and then stared at the Adonis-like paragon of male beauty perched cheerfully on a chair beside Jessica. “Uh.” Lamb said, articulately.
“Hey.” Shane waved.
“I’m Lemo.” Lamb made sure it didn’t rhyme with Nemo, because there are some people too pretty to mock your name.
“Foran.” Shane smiled, and an orchestra started playing in the background. “Shane, Foran.” His eyes twinkled, his teeth were white enough to be in a toothpaste commercial, and his jeans slid low enough on his hips for Claudine to start looking hopeful again.
“Guh.” Lamb responded, thankful that he’d always been an eloquent kind of guy.
“We’re going to the bar.” Claudine told Lamb. “Go put on your pretty green shirt. The one that’s green. Not icky green, and not the emerald green…”
“Lime green?” Lamb hazarded a guess.
“No the lime green is casual. You know, the one that isn’t olive green.”
“ Forest green?”
“No.”
“Grass green? Dark green? Pine green?”
“The one that ISN’T the usual green.” Claudine raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look. “It’s not LIGHT green or DARK green or turquoise-green or blue-green or yellow-green or pale green or mint green or even a sea foam green. Its… green.”
“The one with the black embroidery on it?” Lamb was confused. He didn’t like it when Claudine made his wardrobe decisions while drunk; it was difficult to decipher what she meant.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s green, and has a vertical stripe on the left side!” Josh threw a pawn at him.
It had still been full of whiskey, so Lamb tried to catch it, and succeeded in saving half the liquid inside before it spilled on his jeans. He drank the rescued liquor and then went to his room to change.
Josh and Claudine were squinting at the chessboard on the coffee table. “So, your king is now your quarterback?” Claudine was saying.
“Yeah!” He nodded.
She studied the chessboard. “And the pawns are linebackers.”
“Exactly.”
“What about your queen?”
“She’s a cheerleader.” Josh said, after a few seconds of thought.
“That’s sexist. I think I’m going to make my queen the quarterback.”
“But she’s a chick!” Indignation.
“She’s a shot glass, Josh.”
“Well then, what’s your king gonna do?”
“He’s going to fuck your cheerleader.” Claudine snarled, clearly not enjoying her introduction to the intricacies of football.
Lamb handed her another drink, deciding that he needed another as well.
Shane smiled at him, and quietly asked how his day was. Lamb spilled his drink on his pants, mumbled incoherently, and then gazed worshipfully at Shane.
Shane patted his shoulder, told him that “There’s always a silver lining” and then asked him whether he liked B-44 better than Soul Decision.
Jessica is sure she should be surprised, but she instead decided to repress any acknowledgement that Claudine even owns a dominatrix outfit, because that’s just six different types of weird.
Shane doesn’t notice.
Lucas had come to visit, as he was wont to do, on Saturday, and had finally agreed to stay and go to the bar with Jess and her friends that night. He was sitting in the kitchen, helping Claudine arrange the magnets on the refrigerator. They now spelled “Flower stalk(s) the (c)at in Toronto, tree quietly hunt DIE.” … Apparently, the arrangement had everything to do with aesthetic qualities and colour combinations, and nothing to do with coherence.
That, of course, was when Josh and Tucker showed up for the usual pre-(pre-drinking)-drinking.
Josh stepped through the doorway, took off his shoes, stared critically at the arrangement on the refrigerator door, and then switched a few magnets around as he stored his vodka in the freezer. The door now said “(c)at DIE(s) in Toronto, quietly hunt flower stalk.”
Jess noticed Josh pocketed the “tree” magnet, and she decided not to mention it.
Tucker said hi to Claudine, and then poked Jess. “Uh, Jess, aren’t you going to introduce us to…”
“That’s Lucas.” Claudine waved a hand at him. “He’s a little insane, thinks N Sync is better than BSB for some strange reason, but he’s cool otherwise.”
Josh glared accusingly at him. “You’re not Shane.” He told Lucas.
Lucas smiled comfortingly. “You’re not Hans the tap-dancing bunny from Belgium.”
Nobody knew what to say after that.
Claudine sat sadly beside Josh. “I wish Shane were here.”
Shane walked in the front door.
Staring, Claudine looked back and forth between Shane and Josh, and then finally opted to speak again. “I wish Johnny Depp were naked in a pile of hundred-dollar bills in my bedroom.” She informed Josh, and then immediately stood up and walked into her bedroom to check.
“Uh... I’m Lucas.” Lucas smiled hesitantly at Shane. “I guess you’re Shane? The Shane everybody has been talking about?”
Shane looked a little nervous. “Why are they saying about me, exactly?”
Jessica decided to ply them both with alcohol and hope to god that they let her watch.
