FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_ Samuel _

It is my wildest dream to be accepted into college.

Yet here I am, this early morning, laying on my dorm room bed, with my phone alarm jolting me awake precisely at 6:35 AM. The excitement of the first day of college courses through my veins, refusing to be contained, even though I'm well aware of my introverted nature and the challenge of navigating through a sea of unfamiliar faces.

However, as the morning sun casts its warm glow upon my room, a wave of lethargy washes over me, dampening my initial excitement. I can't decipher if it is my disdain for the scorching sun or the residue of my solitary mornings back in Missouri that makes me perceive mornings with indifference, robbing them of their potential beauty.

Perhaps, deep down, a part of me resents the notion of productivity, despite the prestigious AEC scholarship I've been awarded. Even in the esteemed halls of Hoovensguaard Academy, a sanctuary for the wealthy, I take pride in earning my place. One gap year was all it took to secure this opportunity, and I believe I've earned it.

After all, don't I deserve to leave my old life behind? To move forward from my past and finally take control of my own decisions? To come to terms with what happened to me in high school? To finally live my own life?

To finally live a life?

"But I hate mornings," I grumble quietly, disregarding my previous self-affirmation. The thought of the cold water against my fur... I cannot imagine it.

Glancing to my left, I see my roommate Matty, a boisterously endearing Golden Retriever, still fast asleep inside the confines of his fluffy blanket, emitting soft snores from time to time. Summoning the little energy I have, I reluctantly get out of bed, rubbing my tired eyes and brushing away sleep remnants with my fingers, indifferent to where they land. I reach for my fully charged phone on the nightstand and turn off the backup alarms. I am always hypersensitive to even the slightest noises when asleep, like when Matty returned last night and carefully opened the door, startling me awake. Hence, no matter how many alarms I set up the night before, only the first alarm will jolt me awake. When I googled it once upon a day, the answer ranged from "hypersensitivity to stimuli" to a simple "hypersensitivity." I declared it was because of the common door-slamming that has been happening at home since middle school.

Or maybe you're not "hyper" and just sensitive, Sam.

Throwing my phone onto the bed, I put on my slippers and pour myself a glass of water from the kitchen sink. The metallic taste of the water makes me grimace and question its safety. Gathering my toiletries, I make my way down the hall to the communal bathroom, my steps clumsy and unsteady. A few furs are heading in the same direction, although not as many as I expected. Like them, I pay no attention to their presence. When I finally find an empty stall, I enter and take my time showering under the unwelcome cold water, even though I know the shower has hot water running. I believe subjecting myself to the frigid unforgiving temperature will keep me more alert throughout the day. Besides, I have a tendency to get impulsive sleepiness.

Humming Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" on repeat for what I assume almost twenty minutes, I finally finished my shower. Shaking off the water from my fur and drying off the remaining water with my towel, I head straight to my room. Opening the door, I see Matty already engrossed in his phone, wearing a bemused smile, likely watching supposedly funny TikTok videos. I imagine an unpleasant odor emanating from his snout when he laughs. However, when I notice his gleaming white fangs, I realize I might be unfairly judgmental, attempting to bring others down to feel better about my own less pristine teeth. I suppose it's one of the downsides of being a feline. I always believe that licking my paws and reachable fur is sufficient, despite knowing about the existence of soaps. Or maybe I simply dislike taking showers? Who knows.

Closing the door behind me, I proceed to ask Matty, "You have morning classes too?" But Matty is too engrossed with whatever he is watching that he is startled when he hears my sudden voice.

"GAH! DUDE! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM?!" Matty exclaims, startled by my sudden presence. He jumps out of the blanket he has wrapped himself in, his phone almost slipping from his grasp.

I chuckle and casually say, "It's your fault for not noticing me come in, Matt." But when I completely see Matty out of his blanket, a sudden gasp of surprise escapes my lips as I see a half-naked Matty with unexpected athletic muscles and only boxer shorts. However, I quickly compose myself and put on a casual expression.

"Or maybe it's your fault for having such stealthy paws," Matty retorts, mischief dancing in his raised eyebrows, oblivious to the impact his appearance has on me.

"Says the supposedly audio-sensitive Matty," I counter, placing my toiletries beside my closet and draping my towel on my bed.

"Says the cat who got woken up last night just because he heard the door creak open," he fires back.

"If you haven't noticed, you just gave me another leverage in this argument," I retort, determined to maintain the upper hand.

"Whatever. Don't make me regret being your roommate. Also, to answer your question, nah, I just like waking up in the mornings." Matty playfully rolls his eyes and shifts his attention back to his phone, signaling the end of our banter.

"Can't say I relate," I respond as I make my way to the closet. Without much thought, I select a pink sweater adorned with the words "Edgy Is Overrated" and a pair of beige chino shorts - my usual go-to outfit.

Matty's voice breaks the silence, catching me off guard. "When does your class end?" I can sense his gaze still glued to his screen.

"Somewhere around two, I think." I respond, positioning myself strategically behind the completely open closet door, careful not to expose too much of my fur to Matty's curious gaze as I swiftly slip into the chosen casual outfit. "Why do you ask?"

The sound of Matty's bed creaking reaches my ears, signaling his movement. "Since we're both in the friendless club," his voice carries a hint of both desperation and excitement. "I was thinking, maybe we can hang out later? My class ends at one thirty. That is, if the instructor isn't an ass," he adds with a touch of uncertainty. Silently, I form a judgmental assumption, imagining that this is how dogs would typically behave.

"I mean, yeah, sure," I agree, my tone tinged with a hint of caution. "But just so you know, I'm a broke bitch, so don't expect that I'd be willing to join in anything extravagant."

Matty chuckles, his voice laced with amusement. "Well, lucky for you, I'm rich. Consider my benevolence a privilege."

Raising an eyebrow, I adopt a deadpan expression. "Oh, really, now?"

"Yes, it is, which means I'll know if you start using me," Matty asserts, his tone shifting slightly, leaving me unsure if he's being playful or serious. Before I can decipher his intent, he swiftly changes the subject. "By the way, you're English Literature, right?"

"Um, yeah. Why the question?" I query, my voice slightly muffled as I apply alum powder to my armpits using my paws. The natural remedy is my go-to choice, both cost-effective and more effective than the mass-produced deodorants out there.

"Nothing, just wanted to double-check. That means our buildings are facing each other, right?" Matty asks casually.

"Yeah. I mean, you're Law, right?" I ask back, finally closing the closet door behind me. I notice that Matty, indeed, has been remaining engrossed in his phone.

"Yup," he simply affirms, his focus undeterred.

"Anyway, I'm gonna whip up some breakfast. Want me to fix you anything?" I extend the offer, snatching my phone from the bed and glancing at the time. It reads 7:09, giving me approximately fifty minutes before the first class commences.

"Nah, I'll probably grab something later," Matty dismisses, his gaze remaining firmly affixed to his phone screen. The persistent distraction starts to grate on my nerves, becoming increasingly bothersome.

"You might want to tear your gaze away from that screen," I jest from my position by the mini fridge, snatching two eggs and a couple of slices of bread.

"And you should stop sounding like my mom, you know?" Matty fires back, a hint of exasperation lacing his voice as he releases a dramatic sigh.

"Perhaps I should have a word with your mom about your phone addiction," I tease, arranging the ingredients on a plate before retrieving a pan from the rack and setting it on the stove.

"Trust me: she will not care about what you say and think. She only cares about hers," Matty replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. A pang of guilt hits me as I realize I inadvertently touched upon a sensitive subject.

Not wanting him to dwell on those feelings for too long, I quickly interject with a lighthearted remark. "Well, lucky for you, I make a great substitute mother."

An exaggerated tired sigh emanates from Matty's bed. "I already regret being your roommate," he complains, but his words only elicit a chuckle from me.

"This motherly roommate also happens to whip up delicious meals," I boast, my confidence soaring as I drizzle the pan with cooking oil, the sizzle filling the air as I set the heat to a gentle low.

"If your definition of a 'delicious meal' is toast, I wouldn't be too quick to pat yourself on the back, pal," Matty playfully teases.

Pal. It's been a long time since I've heard someone call me that.

"Ouch! Was that really necessary, asshole?" I retort, a playful annoyance lacing my words.

"As long as you promise to show off your cooking skills when I accept your offer, then yes, it's necessary," Matty chuckles, his laughter echoing in the room.

"You're such an asshole," I playfully raise my voice, a mischievous glint in my eyes. Matty responds with an even louder, "I don't care!"

Shaking my head, a smile playing at the corners of my lips, I focus my attention on preparing my breakfast. With a lack of a toaster and butter, I settle for untoasted bread for now, knowing it will still satisfy my hunger. As I take a mental note to buy more ingredients later, I proceed to cook the scrambled eggs, ensuring they are perfectly seasoned with salt and pepper. With the stove turned off, I carefully place the fluffy eggs on the bread, creating a simple yet satisfying meal. Returning the pan to the cooktop, I reach for a spoon and fork from the dish rack, ready to indulge in my culinary creation. However, just as I'm about to savor the first bite, I notice Matty standing before me, his torso still exposed, wearing a perplexed expression on his face.

"What's with that look?" I narrow my eyes, unimpressed by the judgmental gaze he's directing my way.

"You really eat with forks and spoons?" He asks, his tone surprisingly serious, though his question comes off as both ignorant and amusing.

"Newsflash, Matty, there's more to the world than just America or Britain. Different cultures have different dining customs. This is how I've been eating my entire life," I reply, my voice tinged with a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Where did you say you're from again?" Matty leans against the wall, curiosity evident in his expression.

"Dude, I'm American. Though, well, my mom's Indonesian."

"Oh, I thought they use chopsticks?"

"Well, surprise! My mixed-Indonesian paws are quite versatile. They can handle any utensil just fine. Now, enough with these stereotypical and ignorant questions and comments. They're ruining my appetite, and I'm peckish," I retort, my hunger growing more apparent with each passing moment.

Matty rushes over to my side, his face now displaying a heightened sense of confusion. "Hold on, you didn't even toast your bread?!"

I release a weary sigh, feeling the weight of his persistent questioning. "No, Matty. I did toast it. I toasted it at precisely 72 degrees Fahrenheit for three seconds, rendering the toasting effect invisible to the naked eye."

"Seriously?" Matty raises an eyebrow, and I can't quite decipher whether he's feigning ignorance or genuinely perplexed.

"Dude, obviously I didn't toast the bread, okay?! Now please, I beg of you, let me eat my breakfast in peace!" I intertwine my fingers, desperation evident in my eyes as I plead with him.

"Okay, okay, I was just asking!" Matty raises both hands in surrender and takes a step back. "I just wanted to let you know that I forgot to mention I have butter, you know?"

I feign a hurt and crestfallen expression. "Why didn't you tell me that before I finished cooking?"

"Um... Sorry...?" Matty's words escape with a slight hiss, conveying a hint of remorse.

I release a hearty chuckle. "Nah, don't worry about it. I appreciate the thought. My taste buds aren't exactly demanding," I reply, savouring that profound moment of my first bite. In that moment, I couldn't care less about what others might say. It's satisfying. It's satisfying enough for me. The unappetizing sandwich tastes like freedom--freedom to be a student here, to seize even the most seemingly trivial opportunities, like opting for a scrambled egg sandwich instead of the traditional toast for breakfast, but still have enough freedom to deem it a "toast" myself. The freedom to finally have someone by my side after years of isolating myself from furs who hate me... It all feels surreal, almost too incredible to believe. And in this very moment, the only thing that truly matters is savouring each bite of this simple sandwich, relishing it as my next small triumph.

"You know what? I think I'm gonna hit the showers. My fur reeks from last night," Matty declares, his footsteps leading him back to the bedroom.

Intrigued by his statement, I can't help but inquire, "Oh, yeah! Where the hell were you last night?" Another bite of my sandwich finds its way into my mouth as I patiently anticipate his response.

"Mirage Mansion. But I'm assuming night club's not your idea of a fun night out?"Matty answers, his words accompanied by the distinct creak of the closet door swinging open.

"Ovviousni nyo," I retort, my words slightly muffled by the food in my mouth. After swallowing, I continue, "My idea of a fun night out involves city lights and stargazing. And, maybe, hot cocoa?"

"Wait, for real? I love watching the city lights too," Matty exclaims, a sense of relief evident in his voice, causing a smile to form on my lips.

"Then let's make it happen sometime," I suggest, pausing to take another bite of my "toast."

"I agree, though I'm still not familiar with the ideal spots just yet. I can check with my friends later, though," Matty explains, his words laced with genuine interest.

My throat tightens, and a morsel of food threatens to go down the wrong way as Matty casually drops the bombshell about having friends. "Wait, so you were lying when you said you don't have friends?!"

Realizing his previous statement, Matty bursts into laughter and amends himself, acknowledging, "Haha, man, I guess it's pretty obvious by now that I'm the extroverted type. But, seriously, though, you can't really compare acquaintances to actual friends now, can you?" I observe as Matty saunters back into the kitchen, a towel casually draped around his neck and his paw clutching his toiletries. His attire has progressed, now sporting a pair of shorts that add a touch of modesty to his previously half-naked form.

Allowing his words to sink in, I take a moment to reflect on the truth. "Yeah," I finally concede, my voice tinged with a mixture of agreement and appreciation for his sincerity.

Matty's palms meet with a soft clap, signifying the conclusion of our exchange. "Okay! Well, I'mma go take a shower now. And I'm assuming you'll be gone once you finished your breakfast?" he assumes, his movements laden with a hint of lethargy as he absentmindedly attempts to groom the tangled fur at the nape of his neck. I observe his sluggish progress toward the front door, his energy seemingly depleted.

"Uh-huh. I mean, I can stay here longer, but I think I forgot where my classroom is, so I'm pretty sure I'm gonna spend some time searching for it." I embellish my words with a touch of trepidation, imagining myself engulfed in the daunting prospect of being lost, feeling the weight of uncertainty bearing down upon me.

Matty's broad shoulders shrug in a casual manner, causing his paw to pause mid-stroke through his nape furs. The subtle wag of his tail catches me off guard, and I begin to wonder what has gotten into the boy. "Fair enough. I'll catch you around two, then?" he states, his voice tinged with an undercurrent of excitement.

"Yea, su-- Oh, shit, I think I forgot to save your number." I exclaim, smacking my forehead with a soft thud against my paw pads, frustration welling up inside me as I realize my absentminded blunder.

Matty's mischievous side emerges, a playful glimmer in his eyes as he teasingly remarks, "Don't worry, I've saved yours. Being the good friend that I am, unlike someone I know." He wiggles his eyebrows. I playfully stick out my tongue, aiming to reciprocate the lighthearted humiliation in response. It feels good to have a roommate who can bring laughter into my life.

So many tears.

"Whatever," I scoff, striving to maintain a composed demeanor as I continue savoring the last bites of my breakfast. Yet, in truth, a rebellious spark stirs within my being, reflected in the slight twitch of my tail--a silent testament to the excitement that secretly bubbles beneath the surface.

"Well, see ya then!" Matty swivels around, his gaze fixed upon me, as his paw orchestrates a wave directed at me. His other paw is firm on the doorknob,

"Yeah, sure!" Returning his farewell gesture, my own paw traces a symphony in the air, bidding him a silent adieu. Seconds trickle by, and with each passing moment, the soundscape shifts. Echoing from the corridor outside, the distinct scrape of Matty's slippers against the carpet finds its way to my ears. Accompanied by an exuberant yawn that punctuates the air, it becomes apparent that Matty's claim of being a loud fur one night--when we were introducing each other-- was not a rhetorical flourish.

I hurriedly finish my breakfast and swiftly tackle the pile of dirty dishes into the sink to wash them. Ensuring each dish is thoroughly cleaned, I leave them neatly arranged on the dish rack to air dry. In a rush, I dart back to my room and swiftly grab my bag, double-checking that my laptop and stationery are already packed inside. With my belongings in tow, I hastily exit the room, descending several flights of stairs before finally stepping out of the residence hall lobby. As I step outside, the pleasant aroma of petrichor from last night's drizzle engulfs me, accompanied by a subtle whiff of sweet confectionery and the soft embrace of morning mist. Taking a moment to savour the serenity of the morning, I instinctively reach for my pocket to check the time...

...only to realize that my phone is still comfortably resting on my bed.

"Shit!" I mutter under my breath, my frustration evident on my face as I press my lips tightly together. "And I fucking double-checked my bag, but not my phone."

With a sense of urgency, I swiftly retreat back into my room, each step feeling like an eternity as my mind races with worries about the consequences of being late for my first lecture. Finally reaching my room, I fling the door open and dash toward the bedroom area. I breathe a sigh of relief upon realizing that Matty hasn't returned from his shower yet, sparing me from another encounter with his half-naked self. Without wasting a moment, I grab my phone from the bed and anxiously glance at the screen.

It's 7:36 AM.

"FUCK!" I curse under my breath, the weight of frustration bearing down on me like a heavy cloak as I swiftly tuck my phone into the sanctuary of my hoodie pocket. Without wasting a moment, I break into a jog, my short and round body straining to match the tempo. Gasping for breath, I find myself panting heavily on the stairs, drawing curious glances from passersby, which only adds to my anxiety. Ignoring the stares, I push myself to continue running, desperate to make up for lost time. Finally, I managed to reach the residence hall entrance and burst out of the building.

"Now, where the hell is the Art building... Ah!" I let out a triumphant exclaim when my eyes land on a map bulletin board conveniently positioned next to a lamppost nearby. Making my way towards it, I quickly snap a photo of the detailed layout, inwardly grateful that I now have my phone. Before checking the map from the gallery, I instinctively recheck the time.

7:41.

"SHIT!" I curse under my breath, my fingers frantically scrolling through my phone gallery as I scrutinize the digital map. "Art, art, art... Where the hell is it...?" Frustration creeps into my voice as I struggle to locate the elusive destination. My eyes narrow in on the intricate details of the map legend, revealing a surprising truth--the building I seek is not simply labeled "Art Building" or any straightforward name. Instead, it proudly bears the grandiose title of "Everest Harmony Hall." I blame myself for overlooking such simple information during student orientation. Though some might deem the name excessive, there's an undeniable allure to its majestic moniker.

I glance at my phone again, my eyes narrowing in frustration as I realize another minute has passed.

"Okay, Sam, just follow the map," I mutter, mustering a determined resolve. I quickly set out on my quest, guided by the digital breadcrumbs that would lead me to... Majestic... Harmony Hall?[]