One

I hate having roommates.

With an audible groan, I covered my ears with my pillow as Toby giggled into his phone, voice low and flirty and full of innuendoes that I certainly didn't care to tune in on. It always took me hours to fall asleep on the thin mattress on the cold hardwood floor, courtesy of my constantly sore back and the sound of my best friend flirting with his girlfriend into the wee hours of the night. To give him credit, he really did try to keep it down with his head covered under his blanket, but it didn't help that I was a really light sleeper and that apparently Tatiana was a comedian since he guffawed literally every five seconds.

But I guess that's just part of being a poor college student that couldn't afford to pay rent anywhere else. I knew I should have been thankful I wasn’t homeless but honestly, it's been a little over a year of staying with Toby and I was already on my last ten functioning brain cells. His parents were fussy about a 10pm curfew, had a strict no-guest policy right next to the gluten-free, no fast food, no soda and preserved foods policy, and I was on toilet cleaning duty every Friday and kitchen duty every Sunday, Monday and Thursday.

And I hate doing dishes.

So you can probably see why I'm literally contemplating my entire existence as I lay there on the mattress, trying to think of how I could turn things around for myself. And really, you're thinking it, I thought it, everybody thunk it. Oh boohoo, why don't you just get off your whiny lazy ass and get a job like the rest of us unhappy drones?

Getting a job to compensate for my criminally puny allowance? Yeah, no. We’re living in a modern-day recession and literally nobody wanted to hire some nobody sophomore that had no experience in anything work-related. The only job I was ever really offered was as a dishwasher at a local diner and you already know how I feel about that.

"Mmm, good night... No babe, you hang up. Okay we'll do it at the same time. One, two, three... Ahhh, you didn't do it!"

I groaned.

Did I mention I was also really gay and really single?

_

"Mmm... Are those your famous specialty crêpes I smell?" Toby blissfully sucked in a deep inhale as he walked into the kitchen.

"Yeah your parents wouldn't shut up about it for the past week," I rolled my eyes as I flipped the thin, browning crêpe over on the non-stick pan.

"Can't blame them, they're freaking delicious. What do we got? Chicken fajita?"

"And smoked beef."

"Hope you've made some extra. My uncle just called and he's coming over."

"I'm sure there'll be plenty for everyone. I also made some lasagna."

"This is why I love having you as a roommate," he grinned, throwing an arm around me. I grimaced.

"Oh yeah, so you can use and abuse my cooking prowess and spatula wielding skills. Really appreciate that, Tobias."

"Come on, you know I love you Jules. But I love your food even more."

"Do me a favour and disappear. Forever."

"Ever the ray of sunshine," he uttered sarcastically as he walked out of the kitchen. When I was done flipping crêpes, I got to assembling them and sprinkling a generous amount of shredded mozzarella cheese into each one before neatly folding them into triangles. Cooking was always sort of therapeutic to me, and I honestly didn't mind occasionally cooking for the whole family. Knowing that people loved my food made all the effort so worth it.

With my music on and my hands busy, I stood there wrapping crêpes while humming familiar tunes. I didn't even hear the quiet footsteps walk into the kitchen and stop right behind me. Not until I turned around and yelped louder than I was proud to admit when I found a little girl standing right in front of me. She had on a little white dress and pink sandals, holding a tattered bunny in her left hand, looking like a demon girl straight out of a creepypasta with her freakishly large doe eyes staring up at me blankly.

"What do you want, brat?" I grimaced. I didn't like kids. Seriously. I just don't do kids. I don't think they're cute, or funny, or precious. In fact, I'm convinced they are demon children sent down from Hell to punish us for our sins.

"I'm hungry. Give me food," she deadpanned in a strong British accent, grey eyes piercing into mine. Her golden brown hair reached her shoulders, half covered under a bright pink beret.

God, that is one ugly hat.

"And who are you again?"

"I’m Anya," she answered like it was supposed to be obvious or something.

"Anya?" I deadpanned, "Your name sounds like no in Korean."

She tilted her head to the side, frowning, "What's a Korean? Is that like coriander?"

I sighed, "Kid, where are your parents? And what'd you do to that poor bunny, run it through an incinerator? Jesus Christ, it looks suicidal."

She frowned again, "What's an incintapator?"

"Incinerator, honey. And it's where Santa takes annoying little kids like you who are rude and demanding and stare too much. Now beat it, brat."

She blinked at me curiously for a hot minute before chortling, and then bursting out in laughter. "Santa isn't real, you dumb dumb."

I gaped at her as she skipped out of the kitchen, giggling to herself.

That little-

Cursing under my breath at that whole encounter, I got back to work with a scowl. When I was finally done wrapping up the crêpes, I popped them in the oven. I could hear commotion in the living room which meant the so-called uncle must have arrived.

Great. Now I have to be in a family gathering with a family that isn't even my family. And I thought I would be done with those when I left home and started going to college. Did I mention I hate it here?

I stuck around the kitchen for a while longer but eventually got bored and needed to use the toilet.

Unfortunately, the arduous journey to said bladder relief included going out and greeting our guests first. The things I do to avoid kidney failure...

Sighing, I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where Toby's folks were chatting up a...woah, surprisingly handsome stranger? I frowned. I definitely didn't expect someone who looked like that when I heard the word 'uncle'. He seemed young - around his late twenties, with his shoulder-length golden brown hair tied back into a manbun. How did I know it was shoulder-length if it was tied up into a bun? Because I spent an embarrassingly abundant chunk of my life ogling guys with long hair. Hair was important. Hair was good.

And apparently I was staring for far too long because soon enough, piercing grey eyes were locked on me, luscious pink lips surrounded by a light stubble pulled into a slight smile.

"Oh, there you are! Don't just stand there," Mrs. Callaway chirped, "Come, meet my little brother Vincent. Vince, this is Julias, Toby's best friend, roommate and resident chef. He's making dinner today."

Vincent grinned, pearly whites flashing in my face. Um, rude. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Larissa wouldn't stop gushing about your cooking whenever we talked on the phone. I must say I'm very curious."

He spoke in a thick British accent that sounded much like the Satan incarnate I just met in the kitchen. I cleared my throat, scratching the back of my head.

"Nice to meet you too, Mister..."

"Oh no, please. Don't mister me, just call me Vince. I don't even let Toby call me uncle."

"Okay... Uh, Vince."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled at me brightly, a little too bright for comfort. "Pleasure's all mine. Can't wait to see what you have prepared for us."

"Oh trust me, I don't let just anyone into my kitchen. He's the real deal," Mrs. Callaway nodded approvingly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Coming through!" Toby yelled, chasing after Anya right between us and around the dinner table as she giggled excitedly.

"You'll never catch me!"

"Maybe... But I could always catch Mr. Potato!"

She gasped, eyes widening as Toby grabbed her rabbit, smirking evilly. "Give him back!"

"You'll have to give me something in return!"

"I'll give you my dad."

"Hey!" Vincent retorted, pretending to be offended. Oh, dad. I should have guessed. I watched as he bent down and started chasing her around as well and rolled my eyes. Funny how children could make someone so chic and well put together one moment look absolutely ridiculous the next. I could never.

Remembering the task at hand, I used the diversion to slip out of the living room, making my way over to the bathroom.

When I was done with my business, I stepped out only to find hot uncle Vincent right up in my face. And that was when I could really get a good look at his face.

He was such a textbook gay guy fantasy that it was almost annoying. Chiselled jaw, high cheekbones, full lips and earnest eyes. Not to mention his broad shoulders, and he was just that little bit taller than me that made kissing prospects very promising. I tried my best not to become too starry-eyed, so I ended up giving him my signature scowl instead.

"Oh, hello again. Fancy seeing you here."

"What's fancy about meeting a guy outside a toilet?"

He chuckled, "Good point. I didn't even realise you left earlier."

"I guess I'm just a ninja like that. Especially when I'm trying to escape an unwanted social interaction to use the pooper."

He laughed again, "I guess I know what you mean. I may or may not have done the same just now."

"Think you're gonna need another diversion to get out of this unwanted social interaction?" I curled a brow.

"I think I can spare a few minutes. And who said this was unwanted?"

I blinked at him. Wait, is he flirting with me? Or am I just imagining things now?

"After all, it's not everyday I get to meet the great Julias Caesar Salad," he continued.

I groaned, "Of course, I should have known Toby would embarrass me like that."

"Hardly, it has a nice ring to it. don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, "I think it sounds dumb."

He laughed, "I'm just saying it's nice to finally put a face to a name."

I found myself fidgeting a little, heat gathering at my cheeks. "Thanks, I guess. It's also nice to finally meet a friend's uncle who isn't old, bald and creepy."

He laughed again, "Well, I'm definitely not old or bald, but how do you know I'm not creepy? We literally just met."

I scoffed, "Because I'm a great judge of character. And because you don't have those classic rapey eyes."

"I'm still working on those," he narrowed his eyes in a way that I assumed was meant to look creepy but just ended making him look even more attractive? Like what the hell?

"You should probably just go to the toilet."

He laughed sheepishly as if just realising what he came for in the first place.

"Right, I'll catch you at dinner then."

"Sure," I said coolly, turning on my heel and promptly walking away to hide my fluster.