Every weekday was the same for Derek. He would attend his classes at Cal State Fullerton, hang out with friends, and return home for the night. It seemed to be such a normal routine for the typical college student. But on a Monday afternoon, during the cool and serene month of April, the breaking of the cycle would be based on a crucial decision not only on his part, but on someone else's as well.
As his final class of the day ended, Derek couldn't spend time with his friends for the remainder of the day. The nineteen-year-old college student concentrated on two exams that he had to take on Thursday. He didn't want to take any chances, since he failed the last Anthropology exam just a couple of weeks ago. Psychology and Trigonometry would become his primary focus for the next three days, and nothing would hold him back.
After departing from the campus, Derek situated himself near the bus stop on State College Boulevard. The descending sun indicated a rather late afternoon. The cloudless blue sky had been partially obscured by a thin orange haze that revealed its undying presence all day. A light breeze had arrived, making the leaves of palm trees achieve a rhythmic miniature dance in the slow-moving air. The temperature still remained cool for the Mediterranean-like springtime. It didn't affect Derek at all: he felt comfortable in his brown cargo shorts and dark green t-shirt. He kept his shaggy brown hair untouched. He lived in Southern California for most of his life, and he knew how to adjust to the diverse California weather.
He got on the next bus that was scheduled to arrive. It moved away from Cal State Fullerton as it headed south. It didn't take long for the bus to turn left on Chapman Avenue, towards Derek's apartment.
The young man ignored the other passengers, which consisted mostly of working-class individuals and several other college students. He pulled out his Psychology textbook from his backpack and skimmed through a few paragraphs concerning adolescence. He immersed himself into the pages that held some of the most significant information for Thursday's exam. He didn't even pay attention to the passengers from the next few bus stops that entered the public vehicle. The textbook became a permanent location for his eyesight. The small talk between the other passengers proved meaningless to his ears. He thought of listening to a soft rock song on his iPod, but the sound of a familiar human voice interrupted his concentration.
"Feeling determined, are you?"
Derek looked up to see a Vietnamese-American man who he always recognized.
He smiled and said, "Hey, Trevor, how's it goin'?"
Trevor, who sat on the opposite side of the bus facing Derek's direction, was a neighbor in the apartment where Derek lived. On occasion, the two of them had taken the same route ever since the college student started attending Cal State Fullerton since last August. And they had the same reason why they didn't take their own cars: saving gas money due to stressful times. Only Trevor had enough money to decide when he should take his car to work (and today wasn't one of those times). His workplace was located on Chapman Avenue. As the supervisor of a local tavern, the thirty-eight-year-old man appeared handsome with his long black hair, which he grew at shoulder-length (one of those hairstyles popular in the East Asian media). Today, he wore black denim jeans and a black t-shirt. It made him look more charismatic that way, at least according to Derek.
The young man had a preference for other males, and Trevor caught his attention since his relocation. One look at the Asian man, and Derek found himself with a secret crush. There would be weekends where Derek stayed up until midnight, masturbating to the rhythmic sounds of techno (or even dubstep) as he imagined himself and Trevor alone and naked. But he did fight back against temptation: he concentrated on his studies as well, and he did well in the first and second semesters.
"I'm assuming that you've got a huge test next week."
Derek replied, "Yeah, you're right. I've got two of them on Thursday. I got to spend the weekdays with nothing but my brain and my textbooks."
"You should make sure to hide your vodka as well."
"I don't drink."
"I know. It was a joke."
"Ah, sorry about that. I'm just a little nervous right now."
Trevor's frown didn't change. "Maybe it's best I leave you alone."
Derek nodded and looked back down at his textbook to pick up where he left off. But this time, his concentration gained a little snag. He looked up from the pages containing scientific facts and examined the look on Trevor's face. The Vietnamese man gazed out the window, focusing on the trees, buildings, and pedestrians that flew right past them. The fading luminosity of the setting sun constantly expired in brief but continuous moments as it had descended behind various trees and rooftops that could conceal its entire appearance. Something bothered Derek about Trevor's solemn glance.
"Did you have a bad day or something?"
Trevor didn't move. "What makes you say that?"
"You look like you're business is closing down. Is it?"
Trevor shook his head. "No, it's not. But you're right. I did have a bad day. I had to deal with some annoying barflies all day. That's all."
"I see."
Derek didn't buy it, however. He tried to look back down at his textbook, but he couldn't stop looking at Trevor. There was something else that crept into those somber eyes, something much more disheartening.
Derek cleared his throat and asked, "Are you sure that's all?"
Trevor finally gazed at the college student. "You don't believe me?'
Derek had to be more honest. "It's just that I haven't seen you look very happy whenever we take the bus together. I find it hard to believe that you'd be dealing with lots of bad customers on a daily basis."
"That's what happens when you work at a bar. When you chat with people who ease their troubles by spending their money of hard liquor, you become a part of the sickening environment."
"If it's really that bothersome, then you could at least quit and find another job."
"I can't do that, Derek. This tavern is still a part of my life. Not only do I know how it works, but I'm one of the very few people who can handle the stress and depression when serving whores and jackasses. I don't think I'm the kind of guy who would work at a gas station, or worse, a daycare center."
"At least it'll be different. I mean, you won't be dealing with miserable people all day."
Trevor still had the same frown on his face. "Don't worry about that. Like I said, I can handle it. I have to."
Derek raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean 'have to'?"
Trevor closed his eyes. "Don't worry about it."
Now, Derek acquired his potential concern over his neighbor. As soon as he moved in to the apartment building, Derek introduced himself to the Vietnamese neighbor since they lived fairly close to each other. Despite the young man's secret attraction, they held only scattered bouts of small talk at first. Ever since February, however, they began to know a little more about each other once they took the bus together. Ever since their small talk progressed towards casual conversation, Derek began to notice a pessimistic nature about the older man. He never smiled, and he never had anything positive to say about the apartment he lived in or the work he was involved in. Derek had this feeling that something tormented Trevor from the inside.
The bus stopped right near the apartment building. Only Derek and Trevor exited the vehicle. Once the doors closed and the bus drove away, the two men walked together towards home.
Derek asked, "You know, you don't have to handle stuff like this."
Trevor's voice grew aggravated. "I said don't worry about it. Just leave it alone. I can take care of myself fine."
