A/N: I have to say, this is the first story I've written in a very long time and I must give credit to Dualism who (though she doesn't know it) gave me the proper kick in the ass to start writing again. She's absolutely amazing. Read her stuff. Like, before you read this, because those stories are so awesome. And she made Zemyx one of most favoritest pairings in the whole wide world. So, to Dualism, though you may never read this, thanks.

Every Good Boy Does Fine (a.k.a. Shut Your F.A.C.E.)

Demyx was no genius. He was never the one people called when they needed help with their Calculus, he was never the one who'd get his term paper finished and then published in a renowned scientific magazine, and he certainly wasn't that one who spent hours in front of his laptop with his nose an inch from the screen, memorizing algorithms, so he could reproduce them later that day for no other reason than his own amusement. Rather, Demyx was not a geek.

Demyx was a musician. An artist, a creator, a man with the keenest ear for melody and harmony and tempo and tone that had passed the halls of Hallow Bastion University in some time. And he was proud of it.

Everyone liked Demyx, even those silly professors that thought he was too loud and too cheerful for their hallowed halls. From his blond faux-hawk down to his black boots that squeaked with every step he took, bouncing to some inner beat, he was lovable.

Zexion, on the other hand was the geek. He did spend time memorizing algorithms and publishing papers in scientific journals and helping others with their Calculus. That's not to imply that he enjoyed the help he gave. Zexion was probably the coldest, most soft-spoken, most waspish student on campus. That also isn't to say that Zexion was mean, he was just... misunderstood.

So naturally the Fates would deem it necessary that such a spirit as Demyx would be paired with the quiet, irritable Zexion in what was possibly the smallest, furthest-from-campus dorm room in existence.

Chapter One - B Major: The Sharp Bitch

A gentle drizzle was falling as Zexion made his way into his dorm building. The sound of the rain was soothing, and cool against head and shoulders, but he paid no attention. He stepped into the foyer, carrying two heavy boxes of neatly packed books and a laptop case over his shoulder. His clothes and important notebooks and school supplies occupied another two plastic crates that were currently in his car. That's it. Four boxes was all he needed to move from his house back onto the University campus. Zexion was nothing, if not economical.

He punched the button on the elevator for the third floor and vaguely hoped no one else would get on so he wouldn't have to suffer through that awkward elevator silence. The creaking echoing through the claustrophobic lift made Zexion's nerves stand on end enough as it was. He occupied himself by thinking of how thankful he was that he no longer had to share a room with that insufferable Axel. The messes he made and the music he played too loudly and the partners (boys and girls, mind you) he'd kicked Zexion out of the room for. Not to mention the flaming toaster.

With some amount of relief, Zexion stepped off the elevator and made his way briskly to the end of the hall. Room 315, his new home for the next nine months. He took a deep breath, reached for the knob, and was promptly smacked in the face with the door. A loud gasp followed, along with the blurred vision of a young man covering his mouth with his hand. Zexion fought away nausea and placed a hand delicately to the place where the door had made most solid contact. Yep, definitely a knot there.

"Dude, I'm totally, really really sorry!" The voice was too loud, too bright, and just a smidgen too melodious for Zexion's tastes, especially when the owner was clearly the one responsible for this impending doomsday headache. "Are you, uh, okay?"

Zexion's eyes finally cleared enough that he was able to get a good look at the boy in front of him. He registered the worried look, the bright blue eyes, and guitar-like-thing in his hand before it hurt too much to think anymore. Dumbly, he nodded and took a step past him into the room. The boy, presumably his roommate, was making worried noises in his throat as Zexion sat heavily on the first bed he saw. The room had definitely stopped spinning, but he still felt a tiny bit sick. Well, at least he hadn't been knocked out. That would have been infinitely more embarrassing.

The roommate who had ever-so-gracefully slammed the door into Zexion's face was, of course, the ever-so-lovable Demyx. He was currently attempting to check his injured roommate's pupils for some kind of dilation. That's what you looked for in concussions, right?

"Hey, I'm really really sorry," Demyx said again, his hands clasped together, beseeching the other young man for forgiveness. Zexion merely glanced up at him with a small shrug, putting his boxes on the floor and his laptop gingerly in his lap.

"I'm fine," he responded shortly.

Demyx nodded briefly before sticking out his hand and in cheery tone introducing himself, "I'm Demyx, what's your name?"

Zexion didn't take the hand he offered, instead opting to stand shakily and survey the contents of the dorm room. One side, the side he was on, looked like a bomb had gone off recently. Zexion promptly scooted his belongings on the floor with his foot to the other side of the room before finally answering, "Zexion." 'Demyx... That certainly sounds familiar. This messy room situation is also feeling a bit familiar, dammit.' It was looking like Zexion's new roommate wasn't any neater than his last.

'Zexion... I know I've heard that before,' Demyx thought as his hand drooped back to hang at his side. He resisted the pout that was naturally forming at his mouth and elected for another smile. "So, I guess we're roommates?" He also had to resist the suddenly very strong urge to smack his forehead into the wall with great force. Of course they were roommates, why else would he be here?!

Zexion had a similar urge, but also choose to suppress it. His eyes cut into Demyx briefly and he chose not to respond to such an inane question. He wasn't one for small talk to say the least. Instead he turned away to glance out the window at the rainy campus below. 'Not a bad view.'

Poor Demyx stood there awkwardly for a few moments, wondering whether he was supposed to be making conversation or letting his roommate settle in. Weren't roommates supposed to be BFF? Those prospects didn't look too high right now. At this rate, Demyx might finally have a conversation with Zexion by mid-terms.

"So... you're a sophomore, right?"

"Clearly, seeing as this is a sophomore dorm building."

"Right. Um, have you declared your major yet?"

There was a pause before Zexion realized that he had been asked a question that did not warrant a scathing response. "Double majoring, English Literature and Linguistics."

Demyx whistled appreciatively. "I'm Music Composition," he declared, a bit proudly. He was lucky to be in college as it was, seeing as his grades were barely adequate, especially at such a good school as HBU. He mentally high-fived himself for actually getting this guy into a conversation faster than he'd expected. Now he remembered where he'd heard of Zexion. Axel used to talk about him a lot last year and about how big of a stick he had shoved up his ass. Demyx had once thought that was somewhat harsh, but now...

Zexion didn't respond right away. Music Composition, huh? That would explain the music stand in the corner and the pile of three or four instrument cases along with the guitar-thing (he still didn't know exactly was it was) still in Demyx's hand. He smoothed his hair back from his face briefly, still looking out the window, before letting it fall back into place.

Then, without so much as a 'brb,' Zexion turned and proceeded out the door and back toward the elevators, almost completely forgetting Demyx was even present. He had to finish getting his things out of the car, after all.

Demyx was surprised, nay, shocked by Zexion's behavior. "What a bitch!" he muttered irritably to himself as the door clicked shut. Here they were having a perfectly good conversation, and that guy goes and blows it. Demyx was only able to keep up the angry facade for a few moments before it broke and he was left wondering if Zexion was angry or annoyed or something. Demyx was a worrier by nature and wasn't very good at dealing with anger or adversity. He waited around awkwardly for Zexion to get back, so he could try and pick up the conversation again, but he wasn't really sure if the was the safest thing to do. Zexion had looks that could kill, in more ways than one, unfortunately.

While Demyx was waiting, Zexion made a trip to his car and back, running, since the rain was coming down even harder now. He didn't even realize that he had left Demyx completely hanging. He unfortunately did notice that when he reentered the room Demyx visibly brightened and opened his mouth to speak.

Zexion abruptly cut him off, like the bitch he was to all the new people he met, especially those who had smacked him in the face with a door, "I have no real interest in talking to you right now. I have just had an extremely long car ride from Traverse Town and I would like to unpack and take a nap. I'd appreciate it if you would keep it down and refrain from injuring me further." He proceeded to open one plastic crate and begin removing clothes from it.

"Oh, so you're from Traverse Town?" Zexion glared and Demyx withered under the intense heat. With that, poor Demyx retreated to fight his battle against silence another day and left the room without further prodding.

The only thing he could possibly hope was, 'Maybe he's not such a sharp bitch all the time. Oh, god, please.'