Ollivander stood in front of his apartment complex, a suitcase in his hand and a backpack over his shoulder. The building was a tan color, with a dark brown roof and white railings lining the porches. It was simple, big enough to hold the necessities, and without the additional extravagance of some others.
Standing in front of a building, to many others, is in no way, shape, or form, a daunting nor formidable challenge. To Ollivander, that building seemed the most intimidating opponent of all.

The young adult looked unnervingly at the towering edifice, which seemed to taunt his every move. The long, dark shadow cascaded down the front steps like a tenebrous waterfall that stretched as far as the road, just out of reach of Ollivander's usually tall, but currently trembling, figure.

A faint ringing abruptly punctured the self-imposed silence, wrenching Ollivander out of his rabbit hole of intimidation.
He released a shaky sigh and answered the phone.
"Uh, hello?"

"Ollie! You actually answered your phone! I feel like this is a first for you." A familiar male voice exclaimed enthusiastically, earning an annoyed eye roll from Ollivander.

"Yes, Brad, I answered... Now, is there an actual reason you called, or did you just want to annoy me?"  He grumbled as he adjusted his grip on the thick backpack strap.

"Just wanted to, er, say sorry again." Brad chuckled nervously, clearing his throat.

Ollivander pursed his lips. "As I said before, it's fine."

"But it's not!" Bradley insisted, "Especially since I was the one who came up with the idea of moving in together! I really should've just told Soph no-"

"Your girlfriend of 5 years wanted you guys to get a place together, and you said yes. It doesn't matter if you agreed to get an apartment with me before that, it's okay to want to focus on moving your relationship forward." Ollivander sat on the bottom stair leading to the apartment complex, leaning back and tipping his angular chin towards the dismal grey atmosphere.

"Well yes, but-"

"And you weren't the only person in on this plan, so it's not like I'm alone."

"Yeah, but Rick couldn't because-"

"His mom got sick so he moved back home, I know. Stop worrying, it's fine."

"But-"

"Bradley Anne Thomson, have I ever lied to you?"

"Hey! I thought we agreed not to say my middle na-"

"Have I ever lied to you?" Ollivander interrupted once again, closing his eyes out of irritation towards his closest friend.

"No..." Brad finally admitted, and Ollivander would have bet money that he was pouting.

"Then believe me when I say that it's fine. Now, go get ready for your date night with Sophia."

"Oh, shit! I totally forgot about tha-"
Ollivander hung up on him, snapping the flip phone closed harder than necessary. He ran an exhausted hand over his face, massaging the bridge of his nose in hope of easing the stress. What he said to Brad was true, he didn't hold any hard feelings against the lovestruck male, but the constant barrage of apologies was getting on his nerves. Additionally, there was a part of him that depreciated the failed plans.

Don't get him wrong, Ollivander wasn't against living with one dude, but living alone with a stranger didn't sit well with him. Even if the stranger was familiar with Ollivander's closest friend, it's not as though Bradley hung around the most responsible people, with Ollivander being the exception, so who knew how sane this guy was?

Eventually, Ollivander ceased procrastinating and began walking up the steps to the second-floor apartment he was staying in. He had carefully planned his arrival, knowing very well that his roommate wasn't due to arrive until later that week. It was his attempt at avoiding small talk.

He fumbled with his keys a moment, trying to distinguish the new apartment keys from the rest. A minute or two later, he found it and slid it into the lock. As he opened it, the door creaked, getting stuck on the welcome mat as if it was hesitant to let in a new tenant.

Ollivander, not paying attention, stepped through the door only to trip over a pile of boxes in the entryway. Distinct pop music blared from the kitchen, and the dumbfounded male carefully ninjaed his way through the hallway, glancing around for whoever was the meaning behind this.

He made his way towards what he supposed was the living room, a quaint square room with cheap beige wood flooring and a black leather couch that laid crookedly in the middle. A box sat in front of it, seemingly a DIY table. There was a pile of shelves in one corner, a collection of trinkets and pictures lining the wall as if waiting to be hung up.

The kitchen was next door to the living room, boxes with dishes and baking pans creating obstacles across the floor. Almost immediately, the abhorrent smell of artificial flowers nearly caused Ollivander to gag as he blinked slowly, opening the fridge and neighboring cabinets to find them all fully stocked with healthy, but substantial, foods. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

Ollivander, quite bewildered, turned to leave the apartment, refusing to deal with whatever this was, when he ran straight into a living, breathing, person. He was startled, fumbling to catch whatever the stranger had dropped due to their collision.
A moment or two later, he held two bags of chips, while other snacks were strewn on the floor around them.

Ollivander and the man looked at each other with mirrored expressions of surprise. The man was moderately shorter than him, with sandy blond hair and bronze eyes. He held himself with confidence, shoulders back and chin raised to meet Ollivander. A blond eyebrow was cocked, while his surprised expression slowly morphed into a grin.

"Well, either you're here to murder me, or you're the mysterious roommate I've heard close to nothing about. Hopefully the latter." The stranger spoke smoothly. He seemed to be completely comfortable in the situation, brushing off the surprise like dust on his shoulders.

"Yeah. I'm the roommate." Ollivander spoke calmly, setting the bags of chips on the counter. He, unlike the stranger before him, was very uncomfortable. An unfamiliar setting with an unfamiliar person was not his favorite situation.

The stranger laughed slightly, a low, rough chuckle that bunched the skin at the corner of his eyes and showed off a dimple on his left cheek. This man was, no doubt, very attractive.

"I'm Callan Easton. American Lit major." He offered a hand, which Ollivander took after a moment and gave a firm handshake.

"Ollivander. Business major."

"Cool! Anyways, I figured I'd move in earlier so it's easier for you, but apparently we both thought that! It's cool, though. Is that all you have with you? It's not much. By the way, my mother came in and began furnishing and stocking, so if you see her around sometime this week, don't mind it. She always goes overboard." Callan rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Okay," Ollivander said with a nod, awkwardly adjusting his grip on the backpack strap again.

Callan's smile flickered, but he said nothing. Instead, he maneuvered past Ollivander into the kitchen, grabbing the bags of chips and tossing them into a pantry in the corner of the kitchen. Ollivander took that as his cue to leave. He walked up the creaky wooden stairs and, began his search for an empty room to set himself up in.

Ollivander went into the first left door, finding an untouched rectangular room with a bed against the farthest wall. He set his bags on the bed, claiming this room as his own. He collapsed on the bed with a groan, tossing a forearm over his eyes. He laid still for a couple of moments, trying to forget his responsibilities of social interaction. If Bradley had been here, loosening up around his new roommate would have been a breeze. Brad, the polar opposite of Ollivander, was the type to be friends with someone almost immediately after meeting them. He, on the other hand, preferred immersing himself in work to making friends, which had been painstakingly obvious as of late.

Slowly, he sat back up. He spent the following hour putting away his small amount of clothes into the medium-sized closet on the right hand wall, pulling out a bag of hangers to hang up his business attire. Throughout his silent work, the faint pounding of pop music thudded in his chest, causing a faint headache to throb along to the beat. Ollivander huffed, weighing whether or not he should say something. Deciding against social interaction, he grabbed his work attire and business case. His logic was, that if he didn't have the option of chilling in his apartment alone, there was no reason for him to be in his apartment.

He changed into his work attire quickly, then made his way downstairs, two steps at a time. He was met with significantly fewer boxes on the floor and the faint smell of ramen noodles in the microwave.
"Who microwaves ramen?" Ollivander grumbled to himself.

"Hey, dude!" Callan called, peeking his head out of the kitchen. "Ramen?"

Ollivander shook his head, grabbing the keys out of his jacket pocket and opening the door to leave.

"Wait, where are you going? When will you be back? I figured we could do something to get to know each other better." The blonde questioned, walking over to Ollivander with furrowed eyebrows.

"Work. Around eight. Maybe later." He answered shortly, before shutting the door behind him. He breathed the cool air deeply, then made his way over to his car.

Working may not be the most pleasant way to spend his time, but the familiar monotonous routine was enough to calm his nerves, and allow hours to pass without any extra thinking.

He drove towards the recognizable glass skyscraper, hands tight on the steering wheel as he leaned back against the seat. Today had not gone as he had planned, unfortunately, and he couldn't help feeling somewhat stale.

Stopped at a red light, he leaned his head back against the seat and watched as the vast grey ocean of sky seemed on the verge of crashing against the Earth, a heavy, enervate haze resting on the buildings.

Ollivander groaned. 'I hate people.'

———————

A/N
I understand that this is in no way a perfect beginning chapter, and I know that it definitely needs some editing. Once I get a little farther into the book, I'm planning on taking a couple of days to sit down and fix the beginning chapters.

For now, I'm planning on updating every Tuesday and Friday, which will be Monday and Thursday for most of you in the states. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter, and I promise that it will be getting better the farther you read (hopefully)!

Also, feel free to comment any edits/suggestions!

Word count (excluding author's note): 1735 words