1. at the seams

CHAPTER ONE

AT THE SEAMS

—

Dmitri was having a really fucking shitty week.

From starting his Monday with having to beg his landlord to shift the due date of his rent, to his entire class failing a History test on Thursday, solely because they didn't understand the topic— the week had been rough.

The tipping point, however, was the fact that he was currently getting fired from his job.

To be fair, he did see it coming, with the constant threats from the bigoted, trifling bitch, Principal Brown, who didn't give a fuck about his students or his teachers. But still, he didn't expect it to be so sudden.

"Can I know why? I don't remember doing anything wrong," Dmitri stressed, hand reaching up to loosen his tie. Maybe I should choke him out with this fucking tie. "Have there been any complaints that I should know about?"

He knew that he was one of the best teachers at the godforsaken school. He was fully aware. So, in all honesty, there shouldn't have been any complaints.

Principal Brown sighed, arms folded across his chest as he smiled that smug smile of his. "A few, Mr. West. An incident took place in your class recently, I've had some parents tell me that you tried to... inflict your beliefs onto your students."

Was it really inflicting his beliefs? Or was it just teaching them the difference between right and wrong?

"I told them that Jesus wasn't a white man. I told them the truth about Christopher Columbus. I teach AP US History, and as far as I'm concerned, that is a part of History, Principal Brown."

If this was the reason Dmitri was losing his job, he was fine with it. Or maybe he wasn't, considering he had bills to pay. Fuck, he had bills to pay.

Shaking his head, Principal Brown blew his nose into his handkerchief, looking back up at him once he was done. Disgusting bastard.

"Parents have complained, saying that you've been putting thoughts into their children's heads. Frankly, I agree, so, Mr. West, You don't teach History anymore. You're fired," he instructed, and only then, did the severity of the situation sink in.

He was getting fired. He had no other job options. He was a twenty three year old who had nearly lost his mind while trying to finish college, just so that he could do something that he genuinely wanted to do. He was getting fired.

"I'll stop with—" He paused. There was no fucking way he could just stop teaching his students about the whitewashed ass history of their country. It was impossible. Suck it up. You need this job. "I'll stop spreading my political opinions."

The air conditioner was set on a temperature that was way too high, because Principal Brown couldn't seem to stop blowing his fucking nose. Dmitri was frustrated. And annoyed. And really, really fucking scared that he was genuinely losing his job.

"Yes, you will, because you're fired, Mr. West."

One last time. Dmitri decided to try his luck just one last time. "With all due respect, I teach History, and—"

Unfortunately, he was interrupted by Principal Brown slamming his hand down on the table he was standing behind. "Mr. West, you're fired. Leave. Now."

Well, shit. Dmitri was jobless.

Numbly, he made his way out of the Principal's office, his mind already working to figure out a plan, a way in which he could find another job in the next twenty four hours.

However, his thinking was cut off by a finger flicking against his ear. Instantly, he turned around, only to find Eden grinning up at him, English books in one hand, phone in the other.

"Bitch was gonna walk past me without even botherin' to acknowledge my presence," she muttered to herself, pushing away the wisps of dark hair which were falling in front of her face. "Why d'you look murderous?"

Dmitri sighed, folding his hands at the back of his neck and tilting his head up to look at the flickering lights on the ceiling. "Just got fired. Because I told my class that we live on stolen land," he muttered.

Now that Dmitri was thinking about it, he really should not have gotten fired over that. It was the truth. It was History, and he was a teacher. He wanted to teach his students what was right, not what was fucking racist.

As soon as the words left Dmitri's mouth, Eden gasped, hand flying over her own mouth. "The fuck, D?" she hissed, pulling him by the sleeve of his shirt and dragging him all the way to the break room. "Fired? Like, for real, fired?"

"Mhm."

Narrowing her eyes, Eden stared at Dmitri, before lightly smacking him on the back of his head. "I can't believe this shit, you were my only friend here," she lamented, ignoring Dmitri's fake cry of pain. "You'd think fuckin' Principal Brown would know better than to fire one of the only good teachers this school has ever had."

Right? "I'm leaving now, maybe look for a job online, so that I can continue to chip in for the stupid fucking rent." The whole situation was an absolute mess. And Dmitri had no fucking clue what to do.

Honestly, the only valid reason for him to get fired was that he swore too much in school.

Eden patted his shoulder, squeezing down on it softly. "Shit sucks. I'll miss you."

"We're literally going to see each other at home, E," Dmitri reminded, even though he knew what she meant. After all, teaching at the school was the event that led to the two of them becoming best friends, and even moving in together.

Pouting, Eden nodded, flicking his nose right where his septum piercing used to be. "Hey! At least you can put your piercing back in without the school thinking that you look threatening!"

Dmitri just gave her a weak smile and a quick hug. The information that he had just received had finally sunk in, bullet train of news coming at him at full speed, and he had to step out of the way before it hit him.

"I'll see you later," he murmured to Eden, grabbing all his things from the break room and stuffing them into the stupid fucking briefcase that the school mandated that he carry, so as to look more professional.

Hurrying out of the school, Dmitri speed-walked all the way to his car, where he just tossed his briefcase in the back and began to drive, the city speeding past him and the harsh February wind beating against his face as he drove down the streets of San Diego.

Once he got home, the first thing that he did was check on Juno, just to make sure she hadn't injured herself, as she always did.

"Hi, baby," he mumbled, rubbing the top of her head. "Did you break another lamp?"

Of course, she didn't answer with anything other than a small purr.

Ugh. Silly cat.

The second thing that he did was take his laptop out, and type out the words 'teaching jobs for high school history' into the search bar.

Of course, because the world hated him, nothing came up. Zilch. Zero relevant results.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Groaning, Dmitri placed his head on the table, the same study table that Eden had broken when they had first moved in together at twenty two, when he had just joined the school as a high school teacher.

That felt like forever ago, five minutes ago, yesterday— Dmitri didn't know. All he knew was that he was already beginning to miss his class, and that he needed to go back to teaching.

"Fuck," he groaned out, despite the house being completely empty, zero traces of life in it, himself included. "Fuck."

Just as he was about to slam his head against the unsteady table, the sound of the door clicking open was heard, accompanied by two voices talking over each other, equally loud volumes echoing through the house.

"D! Where are you?" Eden's voice yelled, patter of footsteps getting closer, when suddenly, the door burst open. "No, don't cry, D, we'll find you a job!" she cooed, ignoring the fact that Dmitri's face was completely dry, not a single tear on his face.

From behind Eden, another head peeked out, glancing down at a very annoyed Dmitri, eyes scanning him over.

"Eden told me that you got fired," Trinh stated, purple bracelet adorned on the hand that was placed on Eden's shoulder. Purple. Okay. "Are you really crying?"

Dmitri rolled his eyes at their question, staring back at the laptop in front of him, the blinking cursor looking more frustrating than ever. Fuck you, cursor.

"Do I look like I'm crying?" he deadpanned, massaging his temples with his fingers.

Huffing, Trinh entered the bedroom, sitting down in a cross-legged position on the floor, with Eden beside them. "You should cry more," they suggested as they unpinned the clips from their hair, blue strands of hair falling in front of their face. "The last time you cried was like— three months ago, I think? And it was literally because of some fucking corny ass video that your students made for you."

Oh god. I miss them. I miss my students.

"Don't remind him," Eden hissed jokingly, but placed her head on Trinh's lap anyway, turning to glance up at Dmitri. "Hey, wait! You remember that email that you got last week or somethin'? The shit about writing history articles? For that magazine? Take them up on the offer, they practically begged you, right?"

Dmitri sighed. "I'll have to work two jobs, then. That one doesn't pay enough for us to afford rent," he mumbled, making a move to crack his back but stopping at the last second, the words, 'You better not crack your fucking back' playing in the back of his mind.

Finally, Trinh spoke up, their hair completely free now. "I can get you a job at the coffee shop. Below the tattoo place, where—"

"I know where you work, Trinh," Dmitri pointed out. "The coffee shop? Aren't you like, assistant manager? Who the fuck gets a job as an assistant manager at twenty five?" he complained, because it really was mind-boggling to him that people who were approximately his age could afford to pay their own fucking rent, and more.

Trinh just laughed, tooth gap peeking out as they did, shaking their head. "Smart people, Dmitri."

They weren't wrong about that, but Dmitri didn't want to give in so easily, so he grabbed a pen from his table and threw it in their direction, sighing when it rolled on the floor. "How easy is it to get a job there?" he asked, already dreading the answer.

"You don't have to worry about that," they reassured. "You'll get the job, and you'll have friends! The guy who works at the tattoo place is really fun, you'll get along with him, I think. You'll have friends."

Letting out another groan, Dmitri rubbed his eyes, bullet train of anxiety getting closer and closer. "So... I have to talk to the manager? Don't I need some sort of fucking qualifications for this?"

Eden raised her head up from Trinh's lap, only to peck their lips and lay her head back down again.

"I think you just need to be good with people. You're already good with people, and you make a smackin' coffee, so. You'll get the job, D," she assured, a small grin spreading across her face when Trinh reached down to flick her nose.

Would he really get the job? After struggling through a four year course in three years, having countless number of mental breakdowns at four in the morning, ones that never failed to wake his roommate up, pulling multiple close calls with his professors, and praying that he had studied enough to pass his semester, Dmitri had still just barely passed college. Was that enough for him to get a whole job after getting fired?

"Can I go now? To talk to the manager or whatever?"

Eyebrows knitting together, Trinh glanced up at him, blue eyes boring into his fucking soul. "You wanna go right now? Man, Eden just made herself comfy on my lap," they grumbled, but lifted Eden's head off anyway, pushing themself off the ground and pulling Eden up with them.

Dmitri just rolled his eyes, grabbing his keys from the bed, where he had tossed them as soon as he got home. "Can one of you drive?" he asked as he made his way downstairs, tossing his keys in Eden's direction and clambering into the backseat, waiting for Trinh to enter the car.

Once everyone was situated in the car, Eden began to drive, humming along to an indie song that was playing, an artist Dmitri was sure he hadn't listened to in over four years.

"Switch the song, E," Dmitri muttered, scrolling through his Instagram and liking a post that someone had posted, one of his highschool friends. "Don't like this artist."

Shooting a glance at him from the rear-view mirror, Eden's lips pulled downward into a frown, complying when the two of them made eye contact, Dmitri's eyes hopefully looking murderous.

When they reached The Blackbird, Trinh took Eden's hand in their own and walked in, Dmitri trailing behind the two of them, fingers involuntarily moving to loosen his tie, before realising that he had removed it when he entered the house.

As soon as they entered the coffee shop, Dmitri felt like a fish out of water. It wasn't that he had never been there before, he always got his coffee from there, every morning at exactly seven. However, right now, he didn't have a purpose. He was just standing around, waiting for someone else to tell him what to do, for once.

While he was waiting around, his eyes took in The Blackbird, the vintage pictures framed on the deep sienna walls, polaroids of random celebrities hanging up, giving the place a rustic look, a perfect match for the tattoo place upstairs.

"Dmitri, come here," Trinh beckoned, and when he didn't move, body refusing to co-operate with his brain, as it did, sometimes, Eden shoved him forward with full force, causing him to stumble over to Trinh.

Oops. "Yeah?"

"So, since the manager, his name's Andrew, by the way. Anyway, since he's not here, I get to hire you!" Trinh chirped, their enthusiasm definitely not transferring onto Dmitri. "Usually, I ask people why they want the job, all that, but I already know. So... You're hired, I guess. Don't let me down, I'll skin you alive!"

A nervous chuckle left Dmitri's mouth, because, fuck, Trinh could be terrifying when they wanted to be. "I'll do my best, but I can't promise—"

Then, his eyes fell on someone. Someone seated at one of the tables behind Trinh. Someone he hadn't seen in five whole years.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, heart climbing up his throat. "Holy fucking—"

Then, he saw someone else. Again, someone he hadn't seen in five whole years. But this was someone he definitely did not want to see.

Tariq?

Trinh was saying something, Dmitri was sure of that much. But he couldn't understand a word of what they were saying, blood roaring in his ears, crashing and falling, hurricanes felt more silent than this.

"I need to leave. Trinh, we have to—"

All of a sudden, the world stopped.

Hazel eyes met mocha brown, expression changing from one of warmth, to a bitter scowl, darker than the coffee the two of them used to drink before pulling an all-nighter together. Darker than the nights the two of them spent together, talking in hushed tones about the future. Darker than the jokes they used to make about their families kicking them out for being together.

Right as Tariq mouthed Dmitri's name, his lips forming the syllables in a way that never failed to make him weak at the knees, the bullet train crashed into him.

—

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AN: 😳 how are we feeling.

i was very very very nervous to post this and i'm still very very very nervous but i dunno. aaAAAAAAAAAA

but yea 😳 thank u all for reading, being here, just.. everything 💕 i appreciate u all sm !! thank u and i hope u have/had a good day❤️❤️❤️