Chapter 3: WHEN IT WAS STILL LAFLEUR

It was the first time Mac ever saw Chez. The guy shuffled alone into the lecture hall, keeping his eyes down as he moved. He sat two rows from the front and pulled out a pad for notetaking and several sharpened pencils. Mac noticed other students whispering from the moment he'd entered.

"Who's the new kid?" Mac asked, smirking with amusement when the guy carefully angled each of his items on the desk for optimum neatness.

Jeff, Mac's mate, turned around. "Ah, the freshman. Guess he's in our class too." Jeff rubbed his chin thoughtfully as was his habit to do. In university, Chez was the only freshman taking upper-level classes.

"Doesn't this class have pre-requisites?" Mac asked confused. Cindy, another mate, slipped her arms over Mac's shoulders and held on like he was the only thing keeping her from floating up to the ceiling. She stretched like a sleepy cat, annoyed to be awake, and peered around Mac towards the front of the room.

She smiled gently. "Chez LaFleur," she cooed. "I heard he's a wunderkind. A genius from like a poor family or something." This wasn't quite true, but the rumor had already begun to circulate.

Mac was a junior, outgoing with roguish charm. He was from a family with both wealth and connections; the type of connections where he felt comfortable calling members of the school board by their first name.

Chez, on the other hand, was from a poor single-parent household that had always struggled to pay rent. Maybe it was because of their differences that Mac took note of him. Whatever the reason, from that day on, Chez LaFleur was always on Mac's radar.

Scholarships didn't pay for all of Chez's expenses, so he made extra money by working part-time at a 24-hour convenience store next to the campus. One evening Chez was working the cash register when the bell over the door rung. Mac wondered in to do some late-night shopping. After wondering around for a bit, he finally brought his items to the counter.

Chez rang up the items when Mac suddenly leaned over the counter and asked, "Hey, aren't we in the same engineering class?"

Before that night, Mac had never been inside a convenience store. In fact, the only thing that had brought him there was currently standing behind the counter stoically ringing up his purchases.

Mac had discovered Chez was stand-offish, preferring his own company over the company of others. For him, finding the perfect naturally way to introduced himself so Chez wouldn't be put off, became his mission. That evening was the climax where all his clever planning and scheming came together. Mac had struggled at first to decide what necessities could be so important that they'd send a person out after 10 PM to purchase them, but he finally settled on what he hoped were reasonable items: a small bag of chips, a pack of cigarettes, and a box of condoms.

Over the beep of the bar code reader, Mac made his move and held out his hand. "I'm Mac Whit-" he started but was cut short.

"I know who you are." Chez ignored the outstretched hand and focused on bagging the items. "How could I not know the campus 'prince'."

Mac cringed at the title. He rubbed his neck awkwardly and laughed. He was at heart a people pleaser and confrontation made him uncomfortable. "Yeah. There's a lot of unfair rumors about me," he admitted.

Puzzled, Chez wondered aloud. "Oh? Then you aren't the unserious type who goes partying every night – despite this being your junior year – and you haven't slept with half the female student body?" The casual bluntness stunned Mac, and his only response was to stare dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open like a fish. The awkward moment was made all the worse when three of his mates, tired of waiting in the parking lot, came in.

"Mac!" one whined, "Hurry up. We're gonna piss the girls off if we're late." Another approached the counter and whimpered that it was his birthday, and he didn't want to spend it at a convenience store.

Indifferent, Chez held out the bag. "Your condoms, sir. Have a good night." Mac left amongst the snickers and jeers of his friends.

The unusual pair seemed unlikely to cross paths again. Yet some twist of fate always placed the "prince" in Chez LaFleur's path. After that night, Mac seemed to be everywhere. They ran into each other in the library, participated in the same STEM competitions, and even ate in the cafeteria at the same time between classes. And every other week at the convenience store, Mac showed up alone to buy cigarettes.

With Mac around so often, it was only natural that the two would become acquaintances. Chez found himself always part of Mac's lunch group. Where Mac went, the others followed; and even Chez had to admit, lunch was more enjoyable when there were people around to laugh and talk with. He started to look forward to such bursts of merriment.

"LaFleur," mused Mac one afternoon, sitting across the table and leaning casually on one arm. "That's French for 'the flower', right?"

Chez blinked at the unexpected topic and paused his assault on the egg salad. "Ye-yes. It was my mother's name," he replied, unsure what else to say.

"Oh," thought Mac innocently, "did she remarry?"

"No," Chez replied, very monotoned, "she died."

The group was silent. No one dared to speak. Then, as if unaware the conversation had taken a dark turn, Mac spoke up. He smiled radiantly. "I like it. You should be 'flower' instead of 'wunderkind'." The whole table agreed, and for the entire day, he was dubbed 'flower'.

Although Chez felt a sense of giddy pleasure to be included in meals, and greeted with genuine warmth when acquaintances passed by, he felt with some disappointment that this would be the extent of his relationships. But here again fate seemed to twist itself.

Going into his senior year, Mac suddenly expressed a desire to live on campus. This was, as he explained, to get the full university experience. Chez didn't think much of it, but what a twist it was when Chez's roommate suddenly got an off-campus apartment the same week Mac happened to be assigned to Chez's room. "What luck," Mac exclaimed with boxes in hand and promptly moved in.

Though the details remained suspicious, Chez and Mac's relationship quickly blossomed from acquaintances to friends after becoming roommates. That year, they had several of the same classes together and were often seen going to and from class. In fact, it was rare for the "prince" to NOT be seen in the company of the "flower". It was further understood that if you wanted Mac to appear at to your party or participate in your senior project, you first needed Chez on board, as Mac's first question would always be: "Is Chez going?" 

Chez had never had a best friend. Growing up it had always been just him and his mother. Her death was hard for him, and he never properly grieved, preferring instead, to throw himself into studies. But after he met Mac, life started to change. Mac introduced him into many social groups and encouraged him to date and try things that he normally wouldn't have bothered trying. In fact, when Mac was around, Chez felt "normal" and even smiled on occasion. That was thanks to Mac. So it was with conflicting emotions that he attended Mac's graduation party.

Chez sat in the corner, sipping his drink, closed off from the rest of the party as everyone around him celebrated Mac's accomplishment. The whole time, he seemed unable to catch Mac's gaze.

Mac was so cheerful. He excitedly shared his plans for the future. He was going to start his own aerospace technology company. As private enterprises expanded and built more space colonies, he explained, there was a rising demand for specialized technology to meet space's unique needs. Mac reasoned that with his family's wealthy connections, he'd have access to a host of investors begging to give him money.

Jeff and Cindy laughed along with the other fresh graduates, saying Mac would be perfect at raising capital for such a venture. They drank merrily and passionately encouraged each other to shoot for their futures. Chez remained silent. 

When the party was over, they planned to continue the celebration at a nearby club. Everyone that is except Chez, who apologized to a disappointed Mac, and said he needed to head back to the dorms. Turning towards campus, he left alone. 

Before Chez got more than a few feet down the street, Mac stopped him. "Wait. It's just one night, Chez," Mac begged with a hopeful smile. "Can't you stay out a bit longer?" He alluded to how they'd hardly spent any time together that night.

Chez stared at the pavement, uncomfortable. "I really can't stay. Besides, I'm only 19 so the club probably won't let me in."

Mac laughed and said Cindy knew the bouncer so it would be fine. When Chez shook his head again, Mac's demeanor changed. "Chez?" His voice full of concern. "Chez is everything okay?" He reached out to touch the younger man's shoulder, but his hand was slapped away.

Suddenly all the emotions that had been suppressed spilled out. "Okay?" Chez emphasized tearfully. "Why wouldn't I be 'okay' after hearing how happy you are to move on." He wiped the tears that overflowed, still refusing to lift his head.

"You'll do great, Mac. I know you're destined for success. You're so friendly; you'll easily meet new people, and you'll forget about guys like me. It won't take long to be replace." He was referring to himself, but Mac didn't hear it that way. When Chez finally looked up, he saw Mac's paling complexion and the anguish of rejection spreading across his face. 

Chez winced, feeling guilty. That wasn't what he had meant to say. Furthermore, it was Mac's celebratory day, and he was ruining it with his selfish insecurities.

He wiped his face again and faked a smile. "Actually, I'm lucky," he assured Mac. "I realized tonight that I need to look ahead and plan for my future as well. After all," he added before turning away, "I don't have any family to help me." He left and was, once again, alone.

Over the course of several days, Mac tried calling, but Chez ignored him. About a week later, angry knocks on his door alerted him that Cindy was there, and she wasn't leaving until she got some things off her chest. Chez let her in and patiently waited while she berated him for hurting Mac.

"After everything Mac did for you," she shouted, "the way you just left him there - gutted and inconsolable – that was so heartless. I thought you were a better person than that." She assaulted a pile of laundry and stormed out, telling him he deserved to be alone.

She was right. With trembling fingers, he folded the molested laundry. He tried not to remember Mac's face the night he'd turned his back and left him standing there alone. He squeezed his eyes shut but it couldn't block him out.