Magic Spells In Modern Times (A Darren Criss Story)

Magic Spells In Modern Times (A Darren Criss Story)

I know Geena normally specializes in the D Criss category but I've had this idea for a while and I've been fangirling over Darren a lot lately for some odd reason. I go through SK cycles with the guys. It's always Holden and Matt but then I add others every now and then. Looks like right now it's Eric and Darren.

So anyways, this at least starts at U of M. No idea where it's gonna end.

The chapter titles are from W.H. Auden's poems. They aren't related to the story.

Enjoy! :)

Chapter 2

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one

I wake up early the next morning even though my classes aren't starting until nine. Unable to fall back asleep, I get up and make myself some coffee and then go out onto the balcony to drink it. Since I received my full scholarship I had enough money to rent an apartment, which is a much nicer option than a dorm. I can only imagine the kind of people I might have had to share with. In the three years I've spent here so far I've come to consider this apartment home. My various textbooks are strewn across the living room table and my television has the History channel on mute.
After finishing my cup of coffee I head back into the apartment and wash it before getting dressed. Everything has it's place. I have no need for clutter and disorder. I guess you could call me a bit OCD when it comes to cleanliness. I strive for perfection. How is that a bad thing?
Picking up my laptop, I sit on the couch and work on my thesis for a bit before deciding I might as well head to class. I pass a few confused looking freshmen and roll my eyes at their incompetence. When it came to the first day of fall term for me I already had my map of the school memorized and had contacted all of my proffesors ahead of time so they knew me personally. Shouldn't everyone? It would save so much hassle.

My last class of the day is the acting course. Reluctantly, I approach the arts building, one I had made a point of avoiding up until now. Don't get me wrong, I sing along to the radio in my car as much as the next person, I just don't understand why someone would voluntarily waste their time on classes concerning something anyone can do in their own time.
I enter the building and hear laughing. Someone gets pushed out of the room I'm about to enter and they run into me. We both topple over and my face is buried in a mess of curls. Whoever it is is still laughing hysterically as he sits up and offers me a hand. "Sorry. It's not my fault," he says, pulling me up.
I just roll my eyes as he picks up my bag and hands it to me. "It's fine."
He grins. "Good. I hope you're okay. I'm Darren by the way." He offers his hand and I hesitantly shake it. "This is the part where you tell me your name," he whispers to me, like we're sharing a very amazing secret.
"Auden," I tell him, expecting to get that weird look I always get when I tell someone my name. I prepare to explain but he nods.
"Like the poet?"
Well, maybe not all theatre people are complete idiots. "Yes. Like the poet. Anywas, can you tell me if I'm in the right classroom?"
He glances at my classes and nods. "Yeah. But where are you from? I've never seen you in any of my other courses."
"Apparently in order to graduate I have to take some sort of arts class. This is the one they put me in," I tell him.
He must hear the distaste in my voice, because he gives me a confused look before nodding again. The curly hair on his head bounces. What a mess. When was the last time he cut it? He probably hasn't bathed in a while either. Ugh. "Well, you're in the right place. Why don't you come in? We're working on a script right now actually with some other people and you're welcome to join in. The professor doesn't really care."
"Professor doesn't care?" I ask, completely aghast.
He looks seriously scared of me at this point. See, I don't have good people skills. "No, no! He cares. Just, he lets us do what we want really. It's okay. Just, come on in." I follow him into the room, which is much smaller than the normal lecture halls and classes I attend. "Guys, this is Auden. Like the poet except she's a girl and not a poet," Darren introduces me.
Everyone looks over and waves. I take a seat removed from everyone else, but Darren isn't having any of that. He migrates over and everyone else follows. Soon enough I'm right in the middle of their group. "Hey, I'm Joe. But everyone else here calls me Walker," a guy says to me. He's wearing a baseball cap and has his feet up on the desk in front of him. McDonald's employee for sure. "So Auden, why are you here?"
"Because it's required."
Before anyone else can ask a question, a very short girl runs into the room and hurries up to the professor's desk. "Sorry I'm late," she says to him. He just smiles and says something I can't hear before pointing over to us. She grins and rushes over to the group. "Hey! I heard we have a new friend," she says, sticking her hand out to me. I take it, thinking about all of the sanitizer I'm going to need after today. "I'm Lauren Lopez. And you're Auden Dalton right? We were in an english class together freshman year I think. We sat by each other a lot."
I vaguely remember her so I nod. "Yeah, I think so."
She smiles, "Awesome. So here we are again, senior year and in the same class. Full circle."
"It's the circle of life," Darren and another guy wearing a baseball tee sing, swinging their arms around one another.
I feel like this is going to be a very long year.

"Mom, it's just not what I want," I complain later that night on the phone.
"Honey, we all have to do things we don't want to do. Think of this as an experience to prepare you for the future." I can tell she isn't really listening. Probably grading papers while we talk or something.
I let out a sigh. "They sang Disney songs Mom. We don't have any homework besides finding a monologue we want to memorize and perform at some point. The professor lets everyone run free and the people in my class don't even seem serious," I rattle off all of my reasons.
"It's one year. Not even a whole year and you're there for what? An hour or so? I think you'll be fine. On another note, do you think you'll be coming down for Thanksgiving?"
"Probably not," I tell her, flipping through my "Literature of the Renaissance" book and cradling the phone in between my shoulder and my ear. Mom's not the only one who can multi-task.
"Why not?" she asks. I can pick out the sound of a page flipping. Ah, I thought so.
"Because I'll probably have a lot to do. I don't know, we'll see, alright? Look, even though my drama teacher is incompetent my other professors gave us work to do so I should probably go, alright? I'll call you later this week."
"Alright dear. Bye."
"Bye Mom." I hang up and turn another page, immersing myself in the things I know best.

Ah! There's that bum we know and love! :) Geena, you're in the next chapter!
Joey: And we're fascinated with space. And we're a bunch of smart-assses.
Jaime: Also we never got a chance to attend Space Camp

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