|The Roomates: The Story of Desmond and Thomas
Author: Warlord Darnell PM
OC. Desmond Kingston has been dissatisfied with his current living situation. So, moving out, he answers a want ad by Thomas Anderson. Moving in, he finds that roommates make good friends. Note: This is before Neo takes the Red Pill. Prequel to The Matrix: A Mind Set Free. Dedicated to Genius-626.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Drama - Neo - Chapters: 6 - Words: 11,238 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 08-15-12 - Published: 03-20-12 - id: 7942297
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I love Rock 'n Roll, so put another dime in the Jukebox Baby! That being said, you know who else likes rock 'n roll? Why none other than my Matrix OC, Desmond Kingston.
That being said, this idea came to me a while back. I figured that we could all use a prequel and perhaps an explanation of his back story. That being said, here's a fic I think fans of my OC will enjoy.
So please, review when you're done…
Chapter 1: A New Roommate?
He woke up this morning, rolling off of the bed in his room on the flat. He hoped to be able to get to the shower first.
His sister and flat-mate, Desdemona would use all of the hot water whenever she took a shower in the morning.
He tiptoed out of the hallway, and bolted to the corner of the hall, where the bathroom was.
Turning the corner, he saw a disappointing sight. Once again, the door was shut, and as usual, he could hear Desdemona's terrible singing and the water running from the other side of the door.
"Not this again!" he yelled. Once again, as usual, his long hair fell down in front of his eyes.
"I'll be right out once I'm done." Desdemona yelled.
"Forget about it." Desmond sighed.
He made his way to the kitchen, and got a soda out of the fridge. He then looked at the newspaper, looking through the want ads.
Able to keep secrets, isn't very messy.
Doesn't mind computers,
Rent $500 a month split
204 Remington Drive, Apartment 6A
This sounded perfect. These were very good terms for a roommate. He could easily pay that half of the rent with his job at the record company.
"Hey Desda!" he yelled "You're going to have to look for a new flatmate, I'm moving out now."
"Alright bro!" she sang terribly from the bathroom "I'll be sure to help you pack."
He grinned. He figured he could easily get dressed. He didn't mind the shower. He'd already taken one last night just in case this happened.
With that, he put on his 1988 Boston Tour t-shirt, his button down Hawaiian shirt, and finally his best pair of jeans.
"I'm taking my car." He announced to Desdemona "You're going to have to take the bus to work again."
"Alright." She sang, her voice breaking "I'll be sure to take the bus."
"Ouch." He whispered. "Why does she have to sing when she isn't very good."
With that, he went down the elevator, and to his car, which he had parked outside.
He started it up, and began to drive, hoping to find 204 Remington Drive.
He remembered that it was near the Carl's Junior.
He found it pretty easily.
The building was very non-descript, looking partially run down. Next to it on the right was a Chinese buffet, and on the left, was a copy shop.
"This looks like the place." Desmond sighed.
He parallel parked the car, and got out. He walked up to the door of the building.
It was one of those more public buildings, that didn't require one being buzzed in. You could open the door with ease.
"Apartment six-A." Desmond muttered, looking in the directory. It was on the second floor.
He looked for the elevator.
Seeing that there was none, he realized he would have to climb the stairs. That immediately became one of the things that would have deterred a lesser man.
However, Desmond didn't mind, taking the two flights of stairs to the second floor.
He looked at the other doors. The even-numbered apartments were on the left. He realized that this was "A" floor.
He then figured that six would be the third door. He immediately found it.
He used the knocker, and waited.
"Hello?" he asked, knocking with his fist "Anyone home."
"Just a minute." A voice replied from the other end.
There was the sound of quite a few latches being manipulated, before the doorjamb.
The door was opened to reveal a tall, pale, and thin man with black hair and what seemed to be a bit of Asian eyes.
"I'm here about your ad in the paper." Desmond answered. "Are you Tom?"
"Yeah." The man replied. "Come in."
Desmond followed Tom into the house.
"Take a seat." He replied, motioning to a round dinner table with only two chairs. The rest of the apartment was rather empty, save for a desk with quite a few computers at it.
There were a few lamps, but otherwise, that was it.
"Would you like something to drink?" Tom asked.
"Yes please." Desmond answered. "You wouldn't happen to have any Mountain Dew by any chance."
"I actually bought a case last week." Tom replied, going into the rather crappy refrigerator and withdrawing two cans. Tom went over to the table, and sat across from Desmond with the soda, sliding it across the table.
"Thanks." Desmond sighed, opening the can and taking a sip.
"I would offer you ice." Tom replied "However, the ice trays aren't ready yet."
"That's okay." Desmond sighed "I prefer the soda straight out of the can, even at room temperature. Ice just takes up space in the cup."
"Yeah." Tom sighed "I think so too." He paused "What's your name?"
"Desmond." He replied "You can just call me Des though. That's what everyone else does."
"Des," Tom repeated "I like that. Now what do you do exactly?"
"I work at a record store." Desmond answered "That's my day job though. At nights, I perform with my band, Renegade."
"What do you play?" Tom asked.
"I sing lead," Des replied, grinning "I also play keys, lead guitar, and keytar."
"You actually play the keytar?" Tom sighed, chuckling "I don't know anybody who still plays that."
"Well," he sighed "We play covers. I'll play a bit of it when it's needed."
"Where do you rehearse?" Tom asked, "Are you going to bring the band here?"
"Actually, no." Des replied "We practice over at the drummer's house. Everyone else brings their own instruments, but the drummer keeps his kit there."
"Am I going to hear loud music all of the time?" Tom asked. "I know record store people like to play a lot of music."
"We do." Des admitted "However, I have headphones. I even have a splitter if you're interested in what I'm listening to. I've got my collection on vinyl, cassette, and CD. One of each for everything."
"Do you mind computers?" Tom asked "That's the big question. Am I going to have you always on it?"
"Well," Des sighed "I just know how to write all of my lyrics up in Word, check my E-mail, and perhaps make an album cover. That's pretty much it."
"Alright." Tom replied, smiling a bit "When can you move in?"
"I'll be able to have my stuff here tomorrow if I can get a hand." Des admitted "Do you think you can give me one?"
"You know." Tom suggested "You can hire some movers. This one company; Two Guys And A Truck, they're really cheap."
"I'll be sure to look them up." Des replied "Thanks for the soda."
"You're welcome." Tom replied "I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, Tom made his way back to the car. He had just found the perfect place to move into.