The Stardust #BattleTheBeast

The Stardust by Michael DeFellipo

The headline read: "Country starlet turned international pop icon to release new album next year."

Quentin Coldwater's eyes flared with excitement. Had he not already been attending a magical university, he would have waged that the album announcement was something beyond the realm of normal comprehension. The young, blonde singer was magical in her own right; effortlessly piecing together rhymes that hypnotized and inspired masses of youth around the world. Quentin's eyes glazed over now, staring off into the book-lined shelves of the library. He would have to wait. He would have to wait a while.

"Hey. Quentin."

A familiar voice broke him out of the spiral of emotions he was feeling. He swooshed his long, dark brown hair to the side and his vision met with that of one of his fellow classmates. A pale, skinny boy with bed-head blonde hair was staring at him from the other side of the wooden table. Quentin recognized him from his Intro to Herbology course.

The man whispered, "You looking to score?"

"I'm... not gay," Quentin stumbled over his own words. His eyes widened, wondering if people were spreading rumors around campus. "And... With Alice... and everything. Thanks, though... Uh... Tucker."

Tucker slapped his hand onto the textbook Quentin was reading, causing the other man to jump slightly in his chair. A small, wool bag was encased between his fingers.

"I'm not talking about sex. Idiot. If I wanted an easy, lackluster partner in bed I'd certainly aim higher than you."

Quentin didn't know why, but the words stung him.

Tucker continued as he rubbed the bag into his palm. "I'm talking about some Stardust. I've got some left and it could be yours. For a price."

"Stardust?" Quentin asked.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of it. It's all the rage in the magical community. It's basically the supernatural alternative of cocaine, except that it's not nearly as abrasive to your body's support system. It opens your mind's eye so magic can pass through you more fluidly. Your spells will be more powerful, your fingers will cast quicker, and you'll remember more and feel more than you've ever dreamed. But it only lasts for a time." Tucker smacked another hand on Quentin's textbook, showcasing an even bigger bag. "So it's better to buy in bulk."

It wasn't a secret to anyone on campus, staff or student, that Quentin and his friends weren't always the most successful magicians when it came to spells, casting and concoctions. A third trip to the hospital wing of the school was all that was needed in making them the frequent talk of the metaphorical town and the butt of many jokes. Still, expanding his horizons, at least for a time, was an idea he was very much interested in.

"I don't know if this is for me," Quentin questioned out loud. He pressed one hand to his sweater-covered chest and used his other hand to cover his mouth. "I only ever smoked pot in the real world. I never tried anything... heavier."

"It's good enough for Eliot. He's a frequent customer."

"Yeah, well, Eliot's an... He's just... Eliot."

As much as he'd like to speak ill of Eliot, the upperclassman had been a frustrating, condescending, substance abusing, nurturing, loyal friend to him the last several weeks. Eliot was quite literally one of his only friends at Brakebills College for Magical Pedagogy. Alice, Penny, Margo and Kady, before she vanished, would also be at the top of his proposed Myspace Friends List, but Eliot was the magical brother he never wanted but was lucky to have. The other man infuriated him in a way that only love and friendship can bring about.