You didn’t hate studying—let’s be clear about that. But you didn’t like it either. It just felt... pointless. Like trying to hold water in your hands. Information would go in one ear and immediately leak out the other. It wasn’t that your brain didn’t work—it did. It just wasn’t one of those high-speed, Einstein-level machines that could store textbook chapters like songs on a playlist.

But Donnie? Donnie liked to remind you of your “mental limitations” with his usual brand of subtlety.

"You don’t know the first few digits of Pi!?" he’d blurt out, eyes wide with theatrical horror.

"...YOU IDIOT."

“How slow can you be?!”

Which—rude. You weren’t slow. You weren’t an idiot. And honestly, WHO remembers the first few digits of Pi off the top of their head unless they're a nerd, a mathlete, or a person with an unhealthy attachment to numbers? Definitely not you. You were just a regular person trying to get through school without combusting from stress.

Anywizzle.

Donnie, in all his logical Donnie-ness, decided something had to change. Since you were floundering academically, and he was thriving but preferred silence while doing so, he declared that both of you needed a quiet place to study. Something “optimal for focus,” as he put it. Apparently, that translated to: a narrow, slightly sketchy metal stairwell three stories above ground. According to Donnie, the echoing clinks of distant foot traffic and the faint hum of city noise created the "perfect acoustic environment." Whatever that meant.

Before the study session, Donnie gave you a coffee order. A very specific coffee order. It had four modifiers, two substitutions, and a complicated milk preference that you’re pretty sure required a translator. You stared at the note he wrote down for a solid minute before deciding it was above your pay grade and just handed it directly to the barista like a hostage note.

Now here you were—one hand clutching your own blessedly simple iced drink, the other balancing Donnie’s overpriced, alchemically brewed caffeine potion. He took it without a word (but with a satisfied nod), popped in his earbuds, and opened a textbook the size of a laptop.

Finally, both of you could sit, sip, listen to music, and—supposedly—study in peace. Whether any actual studying would happen was still up for debate. But at least you were trying.

Kind of...- Sort of.

Okay, fine—you were mostly here for the iced coffee.