Charles was cleaning. He had taken one look at the dorm room and almost had a fit. It might have been clean by anyone else's standards but according to his, which bordered on the other side of hospital clean, it was far from acceptable. Therefore he could now be found kneeling in front of the radiator with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows scrubbing away at the cold metal just trying to get it shine the way he wanted it to. He had already put all his stuff away in alphabetical, and colour coordinated, order and was happy enough with the tidiness of his part of the room anyhow. Taking a step back he surveyed the radiator and nodded at his handy work. Not bad considered the limited supplies he could bring, not bad at all. Nodding once more he then proceeded to look and see where might need his polishing touch next ...

Jake lumbered up the steps to his dorm and he used his key to unlock the door. He just came out of soccer practice and he was as exhausted as hell. With a slam, he pushed himself inside only to be met with his new room mate. He dropped his muddy pack onto the floor.

"Um..."

Charles just stared at the muddy pack with a semi-horrified expression. He then looked around his painstakingly cleaned room and tried not to panic. Feeling himself beginning to hyperventilate already at the dirt, and the germs, that had been bought in. Climbing onto his bed he sat cross legged in the middle - away from the floor - and took several calming breaths to counter-act the panic attack before it began.

"Oh shit. Please don't freak out on me." He didn't really know what happened to the guy but he had a feeling it had something to do with his pack. He kicked it out of the room, sending some dirt flying into the carpet.

"I f-ing swear I don't own any firearms, knives...a switch knife but I dont use it." He watched as his new roommate rocked back and forth. He groaned.

They locked me up with an insane person. They locked me up with an insane person. They locked-- "Are you insane?"

"I am not insane ... I just .. I cleaned ... and you ... and the germs ... and I cleaned ... and" Charles got out through gasps for breath as he continued to fight his losing battle against the panic attack he was currently having. He could have taken a knife, any kind of weapon actually, but the germs. The mud, in his freshly cleaned room, a room-mate that was okay with this ... that was too much. It was too much to take. "No-no-no-no" Charles repeated over and over as he rocked and tried to control his breathing.

"Fine!" Jake took the pack from the ground. He slammed the door closed and with one look at Charles, disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes passed before Jake got out. His hair was soaked and he had a towel cover the lower half of his body. In his hands were his old clothes and he threw it over the basket and he turned to Charles.

"I'm clean, my bag's in the closet and you..." He grimaced. "You should know that in a game, there will be lots of mud, a lot of sweat and no room for--whatever you're doing." He gestured to the swaying back and forth thing. "If you want, you could get your own dorm."

"Gymnastics is clean. It is clean, and mud-free, and inside" Charles repeated too himself as he slowly calmed down. He nodded to himself. He then got up and slowly made his way over to the notice / white board which was hung up on one wall. He had split it into sections and it was clearly a neatly labelled time table. The squares were either coloured in black, yellow or red. The key at the bottom showed the black represented night time squares, the yellow day time squares inside the dorm, and the red squares that he would not be in the dorm. His proper time table with all the carefully written out slots, was in his day planner in his bag, and on a second white board beside the first - on the opposite wall on the other side of the room were two noticeboards left for Jake. Picking up the pen which was attached to the white board by a piece of string he looked at the squares and then back at Jake.

"This is okay. We can make this work. This is fine. You tell me your practise / game times. Then I shall avoid the dorm. I shall avoid the dorm during those times. Shall just put it on the schedule. I have to follow the schedule. So just need to put it on the schedule. You need to tell me the times and they can go in the schedule" Charles informed Jake whilst still looking up at the two white boards.

"Or we can just split the room." Jake hated the thought of it but he didn't see any other way he could live or even sleep in peace with this guy hovering over all his dirt and grime. He like a bit of dirt and he liked a bit of grime. Jake was even neat by the standards of guys his age but he wasn't that clean. He was normal.

"That's your side and this is mine." The pulled a muscle tape from his closet and slipped it open. He rolled it on the floor in an even line and it stopped at the middle of the door and he used his teeth to rip of the tape and he flattened the tape to the floor. "You can do...whatever you do back there and I'll do my thing here, clear?"

and then he realized that the bathroom was on the other guy's side. "Oh f-ck."

"Perfect" Charles replied with a nod, and then a couple more nods, as he looked at the tape and then away again. He smiled happily that the situation had been solved and did not seem to notice the issue of the bathroom "just perfect. You get no germs on my side of the room - and I shall ignore your side of the room. Yes, good yes." He fell silent and then picking up his cleaing supplies once more set to making sure his side of the carpet, on his side of the tape, was absolutely spotless.

"Dude." He took a step forward, careful not to go through the line as he kept his eyes on the bathroom. He frowned, the tips of his lips going down as he let his eyes go from there and then Charles cleaning the floor and back again. "The bathroom does not count, okay?" And with that, he pulled some clothes from his bed and stormed into the bathroom with a slam of the door.

Charles whistled and shook his head "I thought I had problems - but it seems all of the people in this school are wound tighter than a spinning top. That girl with the blonde hair and the leather jacket, this guy and that girl with the spikes ... maybe I should ask Barnaby about it!" He fell away into his thoughts as he considered his meeting with Rosalie, his new room-mate and the girl from the pitch. But then again the girl from the green house had been nice. So maybe it was not so bad.

Jake shuffled out in a new shirt and a pair of pants. He was ruffling his hair with his towel to dry it and he had his toothbrush in his mouth as he walked barefoot towards the bed. He took his phone from the corner, flipped on the TV and without looking at Charles, went back inside the bathroom with a slam.

Charles was just about to leave the room when his own phone rang. Frowning slightly in thought he walked over and answered it. "Hello, oh no wait I think you have the wrong number ... I don't know a Rosalie ... really ... I mean yes, yes that is unfortunate. Well I think I know one but I only met her once. Do not think that qualifies me as next of kin. She put this number down, really? Can you ask her ... oh that is not good ... well is she going to be okay? Not authorised to give that information out to anyone but next of kin. But of course. Have you tried her parents? I am sure she must have some somewhere. Yes I am sure her being unconscious does make it harder ... I don't know what to suggest ... just because she goes here does not mean everyone knows her ... no I do not know why she gave this room number ... I can't help you!" Charles frustratedly repeated the same line several times into the phone.

Jake was walking out from the bathroom in a pair of jeans. His shirt was hanging from the crook of his elbow and he was about to pull on his silver dog tag when Rosalie's name came into hearing range. His head snapped towards Charles and he raised a brow. Maybe it's some other Rosalie. He thought before he turned back to his own turf.

The conversation turned serious with every sentence and he grit his teeth before he walked towards Charles and yanked the phone from him. "I'll take that." He shot him an exasperated look before he brought the phone to his ear. "What's this shit about?"

"Hello, this is Nurse Stone from Saint and Cross medical centre. We are currently searching for Miss Rosalie Santerino's next of kin. She has been in a rather serious accident and this is the number that was on her records. If you could put us in touch with her next of kin we could begin to sort out this problem ..." the voice replied on the other end, clearly sounding annoyed.

"I'm her fiance." Jake lied smoothly and he tapped his fingers over the table next to Charles's bed. He turned to the window and he looked out over the haze to the road without blinking. "So I guess that means I'm close enough to be family."

"Miss Santerino we believe was attacked at a friends apartment. She has already undergone four major surgeries and is still receiving assistance to breath, and remain alive. Whilst she is much better than she was she is still in ICU and she is far from out of the woods. We are ringing to alert you to this fact and inform if you wish to see her we recommend you do so as soon as possible. We are also hoping someone she knows will be able to persuade her to supply the information we need regarding her attack. When she is concious once more."

Jake was already out the door and he threw the phone over his shoulder and it landed directly on Charles's lap as he slipped a jacket over his bare top and he pulled the keys of his Ducati and twirled it around his finger as he sprinted out of the school. He jumped over the railings of the stairs, to save time and cut through the gates.

"Stupid, stupid..." He only caught a few words from what the nurse said, but from the sound of it, Rosalie was in some pretty deep shit.

Charles was unsure what had just happened. He watched Jake leave and looked between him and the phone he had just caught. Standing up he neatly replaced the phone and then thinking for a moment looked at his time table. Could he fit in a visit to the hospital? Maybe he could help? No it would not fit. It could not fit. He had to make it fit ... no class had to be done. Charles had to do what his routine said so he headed for class instead.