The Noble Desire (Peterick)

.•°Four.•°

A pile of paper- lead scratched and sprawled across the pages- were spread out on his desk, some squished underneath the massive weight of his rented, worn textbook that was practically falling apart at the loose spine. The boy was hunched over the mass of assignments and notes and words he'd spent all night attempting to embed into his caffeinated brain slowly dying out from the rush it had with the three cups of coffee he'd shamefully consumed at the beginning of the night. Damp white blond hair slightly curled at the ends sat a mess of waves upon his head after he thought a shower would motivate him to study, which it did...only for a moment until he realized the effort it would take for him to jam-pack an entire quarter's worth of lessons into his memory in one sitting. Patrick had no one to blame but himself for the severity of the situation.

Skipping out on classes to work on his stupid side project had been a grave mistake, but he hadn't been aware at first of exactly how much damage he'd done to his grades. It was when he'd finally checked his email that morning and saw the notices sent by the university about his scholarship on the verge of being revoked that he decided it would be a good time to put down the guitar and actually care about his education. The problem was that it may have already been too late. He slammed the textbook close, completely burnt out at a quarter past five in the morning. There was no possible way he would be able to save his scholarship at this point.

His mind was mush as he stared at the silver desk lamp and wondered how he'd gotten to this point in his life- a lowly college student who had changed his major a million and one times and lived off cups of noodles in his dorm he barely could bother himself to clean. Patrick didn't understand why he put himself through the torture and pressure of a college education especially one that rode on a full-paid scholarship that required for him to keep a 3.5 GPA. He thought he was capable, considering his excellent grade streak in high school where he was able to manage straight A's in all his honor classes, but when it came time to actually decide what he wanted to do with his life, what the purpose of having a perfect record was for, he hadn't the slightest clue as to what career he desired to pursue. He'd taken one of those career tests the universities offered and had gotten something music related that he couldn't quite remember now being in his sophomore year. That wasn't acceptable, though.

His parents, hell, even his teachers expected that he become something worth noting like a doctor or engineer or even a politician like his speech and debate sponsor recommended he look into. Nothing ever sparked his interest or felt like a right enough fit for him, which was probably why he became so invested in his band that he'd dubbed as a side project. It was the only thing he found fun and worth while even if it was only a hobby and nothing Patrick expected to ever take off since they were the type of band that never did gigs and just jammed out in a garage on the weekend. Now though, now he was in too deep, put too much time and energy and sleepless nights into this whole college thing, and it only landed him in a pile of shit. Patrick knew full well that he was at a dead end with no plans on what he was going to do next.

He dropped his head onto the hard cover of the textbook and closed his eyes just to rest them for a second so he could think things over. That second somehow turned into a few hours, and when the sun hit his back hot and heavy at noon Patrick sat upright immediately with a page out of his biology notes glued to his forehead. He peeled the paper off and caught a glimpse of the time, sending him into an alarmed state as he remembered that his lab started at noon. The college student hurried to pack up all his materials and change out of the clothes he'd worn the previous day, not even bothering to fix the mop of dyed blond skewing out at weird angles or greet his roommate who he slipped past once he came through the door. His class was a five minute walk away from his dorm, so with his bookbag hanging off his shoulder by one strap and his books clutched to his chest, he hustled through the area like his life depended on it.