Ushered into the large stone building that lurked over the outskirts of the Midwestern Plains University campus,  Bert's senses were rapidly overwhelmed by the musty dampness of the old building, the scent of cigar smoke latching onto the back of his nose and throat, causing him to wince as he held back a cough. The abundance of the smoke stifled the air to such a degree that the entire house appeared in a dark gray haze.

Bert was beginning to regret that he had come. If he were still living with his Aunt and Uncle, he would go home to an earful about dampening his "trapper senses". His Uncle Jeff's keen sense of smell was sure to pick up the scent on his clothes before he even set foot in their house. His Uncle had sworn off cigars and claimed his exceptional animal tracking abilities were due to doing so. He refused to even walk near smoke if given the option.

A slight pang hit his heart at his uncle's memory, and Bert did his best to heed his uncle's warning and inhaled through his mouth, holding back a gag as the thick smoke filled his mouth.

He was only here to talk to the flower shop sorceress anyway. He could excuse himself as soon as he introduced himself to her, and consider that worth the time of losing his sense of taste and smell.

The short boy led Bert to a dimly lit main area of the apparent fraternity house. The large main room was filled with young men smoking cigars and shooting whisky from chipped, foggy lowball glasses, as unbothered by the tobacco haze as they laughed louder than necessary at each other. 

The walls were bare, save for the aged, floral wallpaper that hung torn around the room,  and held an unnatural yellow tint from years of tobacco exposure. The room was barren of furniture save for the torn leather seats, which had been rounded up into one corner, where a herd of men sat playing cards.

A few men played darts, while others were arm wrestling on the top of an old winebarrel, or stood in groups, passing around strange substances to each other as they talked.

It was hard for Bert to see much of what was going on, however, as the constant haze of cigar smoke caused Bert to blink back tears and further blur his vision. The unfamiliar pungent smoke seemed to be stealing all senses but his hearing.

And, despite his best efforts, Bert couldn't make out a single woman within the large room.

But by the state of this party, it seemed for the better.

Dropping off the bottle of wine he had brought with the various canteens of unlabeled whisky, Bert hurried to the nearest window he could find, cracking it open and attempting to gain just a bit of fresh air.

Bert ignored the weird looks and snickers at both his actions and his attempt to bring a party gift, which, admittedly, did look very out of place amongst the liquor.

He had only brought it at the advice of his roommate, who seemed confident in his knowledge of such events, as he was attending his thespian club start-up party that night as well. Bert regretfully realized this was not the kind of Duel Innitiation Celebration either of them had expected.

Using the excuse of trying to figure out how to usher out a bug that had snuck in to breathe another gasp of fresh air, Bert mentally cursed himself for showing up at all. Making the promise to himself and his deceased uncle, who was likely looking down at him in annoyance, to stay for another ten minutes before finding an excuse to leave.

And with a hint of luck, sneak out his bottle of wine on the way.

"Finally," A man's intrigued voice scoffed from beside Bert. "Someone here with sense." 

A tall, dark red-headed man was muttering under his breath as he took a drink of his whisky, his eyes studying Bert with amusement as he leaned on the wall beside the window. "I'm always telling these nitwits to open a window during these things, but they always argue about the bugs getting in," he added, raising a brow as a humored smirk crawled onto his face in jest over Bert's pretend bug, which the man had witnessed Bert help escape a few seconds earlier.

The tall young man shook his head and gave Bert a knowing look as he took another drink of his whisky. "But, maybe the bugs would be less eager to enter should they actually clean after themselves every once in a while."

 Standing from where he had hunched to open the window, Bert grimaced as he wiped the dust and soot from the old window onto his denim trousers. He had to agree with the man, almost shuddering at the thought of how grimy the room likely was, were it not so dark and filled with smoke.

Now standing straight, Bert noticed this man was a few inches taller than he was, but with a slightly thinner build than Bert. The tall ginger man seemed somewhat familiar and must have crossed Bert's vision during the duels the day before.

"I'm Bert, Bert Nakota." Bert introduced, outstretching his hand after one last scrub on his trousers to rid any grime. "I don't think we've met yet," Bert added with a smile, as the other man quickly switched his whiskey glass to his other hand to give Bert a firm shake.

"Hank. Hank Furrow." The man replied, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he gave Bert a wide smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nakota. Say, would you mind if I call you Bert?"

"Of course, no problem," Bert replied, a strangely warm feeling filling his chest at meeting someone who seemed somewhat normal in the cesspool of egos that surrounded him. "Would you mind if I called you Hank?"

"Of course, not a problem at all. You had said you're new to the University the other day. How are you-"

Suddenly, Hank was interrupted by a roar at the dart board, causing the room's attention to shift to the crowd of boys near the front as the group hooted in astonishment.

Bert caught a glimpse of the Duel's president, Brian Dean, in the center of the crowd, the group of boys patting him on the back as the president pumped his fist in victory.

From what Bert could make out of the dartboard, it appeared that all of his darts had hit the center.

To Bert's left, Hank scoffed, sipping on his whisky as he tried to hide a scowl behind his glass. Quickly pushing it away with his swig of whisky.

"Wow, he's pretty good, huh? All in the center...that's pretty impressive." Bert mused, as he studied Hank's reaction.,

"How do you think Brian came to be the president?" Hank scoffed, with a hint of bitterness to his tone." There is no winning against that guy." He paused, a knowing smile crawling up his face as he glanced at Bert from the corner of his eye. "Well, until recently."

He took another swig of his whiskey before letting out a laugh and slapping Bert on his shoulder. "I have a feeling this year, the Duo Duels are gonna be a lot more interesting to watch. Much more than the actual ones."

Bert blinked, "Because the girls? They got the president to intervene, so he technically lost, and now that they can compete?"

Hank gave him a wink and let out a laugh. "Right you are, Berty boy, and there was nothing Brian could do about it. Too much risk if he tried. So, after years of preventing that one little girl from joining, his plans were foiled by the magic of sisterhood." Hank let out a laugh, a knowing smile lifting his face as if lost in thought, "Now he's got TWO witches to deal with." 

Hank let out a mocking laugh as he shook his head, leaning towards Bert, and putting a hand on the shorter man's shoulder to whisper into his ear.. "Don't tell the other guys, but for beating Brian at his own game, I'm rooting for them. I'm hoping they stay in these trials as long as possible."

"Yeah, they were good, regardless. They deserve to be in the duos." Bert agreed, slinking away from the man's touch.

Hank let out another snort, swishing the whisky in his glass as he narrowed his eyes, as if debating saying something else, but instead just shook his head, and finished off the rest of his glass.

"Speaking of the girl contestants, are they here? Are they coming?" Bert inquired, trying his best to sound normal, even though Hank's answer would determine how soon Bert would exit the party. 

"Oh? You dirty Berty, eh? Hoping to have a turn at 'em, too? Everyone was hoping they would show up. Unfortunately, Brian's ego wouldn't allow him to invite him, so I am afraid this party isn't gonna be nearly as fun as you were hoping for, if you came for that."

Bert could feel his face fall before he could keep it in check, his eyes narrowing in uncertainty as a sick feeling began churning in his stomach at Hank's words, desperately hoping they didn't mean what he thought they might.

"Well, I didn't come for that." Bert quickly muttered, not wanting to be grouped in with the other men's intentions at the party. "Might be for the best for the girls then. Just this once, they can thank the President's ego."

"Something few people can do." Hank chuckled, letting out a sigh at his empty glass. Reluctantly, Hank peeled himself from the wall and raised his glass to Bert. "I've got to get me another round. Want anything while I'm over there?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." Bert replied with a nod, trying his best to hide his now overwhelming anxiety to leave the party. His time allotted to himself to remain at the party decreased from ten minutes to ten seconds.

As he watched Hank get pulled into the group of boys playing cards on the old leather seats, Bert worked up the courage, swiftly walking across the room, and avoiding all eye contact as he snuck off his wine bottle from the counter. As briskly as his legs could take him, Bert shot down the old building's hall and to the large front door, the wave of fresh air consuming him as he pulled it open—the chilly night air feeling like the first gulp of water from a cool canteen amid summer. The cicadas and crickets cried out to him, as if demanding an answer to why he was even in that house in the first place. 

Bert slowly took a deep breath of fresh air and began down the stairs, noting that leaving was probably the best decision he had made all night.

________

Margo sighed as she trudged down the dark streets on the outskirts of Pella's campus. She had another 10 minutes until the train came to take her back to her small hometown from Pella. Only to be greeted by an empty house, as both her mother and sister were likely to be home late. Which, after the morning she had, Margo felt was for the best.

Unfortunately, after her long morning with her family and registering for the duels, it was only her and Bennicio in the flower shop today. Since it was his first day back from his vacation, they had to go over everything that he had missed during his absence. She wished Holly had been there, not just because she wanted to go over this week's practice schedule with her friend while the store was dead, but also because she could have used the teleportion magic to get home. Instead, her long day was only further extended by her wait for a late train.

"Oh! Hello!"

Margo jumped, startled by the sudden greeting that sounded beside her as a young man came hurrying down the front lawn of one of the lit-up fraternity houses, which Margo immediately recognized as the Dual Committee house.

The boy was tall and dark, a few hands taller than Margo, with a dark brown Stetson that sat on his curly hair, hiding his facial features. However, Margo could make out dark hair that extended around his face in a dark, full beard, and large, circular-rimmed glasses that reflected the dim light of the street's lamps. The young man wore an ironed, light brown button-up, embroidered with images of white daisies, which was neatly tucked into his blue jeans with a large pearl belt buckle.

Margo felt like the boy looked familiar, but couldn't associate his grinning face with a taunting insult any committee member had thrown at her.

With a dismissive glance, Margo ignored him. Continuing walking as if he had said nothing at all.

"Um- Wait, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"I'll do whatever I want, thank you very much." Margo snapped back, glaring at the young man who was getting closer to her, causing her to take a cautious step to the side. "Go back to your party and leave me alone."

"Oh- wait. You aren't coming to the party?" The boy asked, stopping where he was at the sight of her avoidance of him, his tone sounding strangely relieved.

In that moment, it clicked for Margo, and she grit her teeth as she shot the man another glare.

This was the party they threw for the duel contestants who had passed the initiation. 

He thought she was trying to get in, and he was trying to stop her.

But, of course, she hadn't been invited.

"No, but thanks for the lack of invite.  I don't want to go to your dumbass party. I'm just trying to get to the train station, and your stupid house is in the way of that."

The man let out a laugh. Causing Margo to scoff at his reaction to her frustration before quickening her pace.

"Great choice,  that party is horrid." The man replied, quickly catching up to her. "It's not my party either, by the way. Or my house...Thank goodness." He added, shooting one last glance over his shoulder at the lit-up house on the hill. " Unfortunately, I received an invitation, but I'm not on the committee. I work for the Pella Press. I think it was an attempt at a bribe."

"Wow. Lucky you." Margo deadpanned. Quickening her pace, her attempt at losing him seemed in vain, as the young man's legs were considerably longer than hers, causing him to keep pace with her easily.

"Lucky me." The man chuckled, copying her with a wide smile. "Mind if I walk you to the train station, Miss Margo? I don't trust those dudes in there. I would like to know if you got to the train station safely."

"Oh, would you? And what makes you so different from the men in there, huh? You were in there yourself not long ago." Margo grumbled, shooting him a warning look as she readied her fire magic in her fingertips.

The taller man hummed and blinked in thought, as if amused by her question. "Well, I would like to argue a lot of things... but maybe the main one is that I think you are a talented sorceress that undoubtedly deserves to be in those duels. Unlike those stuck-ups that can't see five feet over their egos."

Margo almost stumbled in surprise. Caught off guard by his answer, and the genuineness in his tone as he said it. This is the first time she had heard that she deserved to be in the duels from someone other than Holly ot the University President.

"Oh-" Margo quickly cleared her throat, hoping the night's low light would hide the blush that had crept onto her cheeks. "Well, if you truly believe that, then know not to try any funny business, or you won't have any hands to hold your pen for your Pella paper... if that's even the truth."

The man chuckled again, scratching at his beard as he gave her an amused smirk.

"I wouldn't dare to try funny business, or lying with you, Miss Margo." He shrugged, blinking at her, his gaze meeting her's with his brows furrowed in a way that made Margo feel like he meant it. "After all, I am looking forward to your next duel more than any other contestant. I only went to that party to wish you congratulations and voice my support for you. I'm walking you to the station so that I can be sure you'll be there next weekend so that I can cheer you on."

Margo could feel her defenses slipping as she shook her head and shot him a suspicious frown. 

She knew he was likely saying whatever he could to make her fall for him.

Unfortunately for Margo, he was saying all the right things to do so.

In a quick instant, Margo stopped in her place and crossed her arms over her chest. Sizing up the man before her once more under the light of the streetlamps.

The young man stopped as well, blinking at her in surprise with wide eyes beyond his wide-rimmed glasses.

Now that Margo was getting a better look at him, she found he was strikingly handsome. His dark skin was practically spotless, his cheeks rosy, as if he was blushing at his own words as much as she was. He was well-built, with curly black hair that cascaded down his face into a full beard. His eyes were a deep brown, with a tint of red that matched the color of his hair where the lamplight filtered through it. His large, circle rimmed glasses made his large, almond-shaped, dark brown eyes appear just a bit larger than natural. He had a surprisingly well-maintained facial hair, and the scent of aftershave mingled with a lingering smell of tobacco on his clothes.

The mix of scents was delightful. 

All of him seemed delightful.

"Fuck it. Keep your friends closer, and enemies closer, so they say." Margo muttered, taking a step closer to him.

"Wha-"

"Where do you live?"

"Whe-"

"Do you have roommates?"

"Yes."

"Are they home?"

"Um...No."

"Perfect."

Grabbing a fistful of his button-down, Margo pulled his lips to hers as she pushed him against the light pole. Kissing him hungrily, as if doing so might rid her of any self-doubt or anyone's doubt of her. As if kissing him solidified the truth in his opinions of her, her place in the world,  in the duels, or this moment.

Although initially caught by surprise, she felt his mouth tilt into a smile against hers as his arms circled her waist, pressing her solidly against him, as he kissed her back with matched energy. The strange sensation of a bottle being pressed against her lower back caused her to break away as she loosened her grip on his shirt, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She glanced back at the dark wine bottle he held in his grip that she hadn't noticed earlier. Raising a brow at him in amusement.

"Is that wine?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Do you want a glass?" The young man replied, his voice low as his eyes remained on Margo's. "You'll have to come back to my place."

"Hah!" Margo laughed, her fingers playing with the hair on the back of his neck. "I thought you would never ask."