CALLUM MARCHER
21. PHYSICAL EDU. COOLEY.
(+): PROTECTIVE and DEDICATED
(-): GRUMPY and IMPATIENT
Always the guy that doesn't think this will show up in the exam.
“I’m not crying. I’m just — I’m processing…” Poppy said, staring blankly at her planner. There was a remarkable amount of dates with assignments written next to them on her calendar, she could hardly believe it. “I’m so burnt out. Are you burnt out? Is this normal?”
“Right...” Callum was never good with emotions. His own or others’. He couldn’t tell which he was worse at to be honest. He tended to ignore his own, made them easy to manage, but it wasn’t like it was viable advice for him to give other people. “Nah, pretty used to stretching myself thin.” Callum lived by that harder you push, higher you fly mentality. He knew it wasn’t for everyone though. “Look, just... chill out, alright? You want some water or something? Maybe you’re just dehydrated.” He took his water bottle from his bag and slid it over. “Here. Drink some of that and take 5.”
she couldn’t keep her grin from growing wider. sure, her plan would have left anyone absolutely gone just a few minutes into the professor beginning his lecture, she just hadn’t expected to get called out on it. esra screwed the top on the water bottle, pushing it back into her book bag. “fair enough, but what makes you think i wouldn’t be prepared to drink you under the table in this alternate universe?” she couldn’t, not even in this universe, but the thought of losing just didn’t sit right. she took his hand, shaking her head at the other. “esra yildiz, it’s nice to meet you. as shocking as this may sound, i promise i don’t accidentally pulling out a water bottle full of vodka during orientations.”
“Touché.” It was a fair point. And not one Callum had the brain power to be cheeky about so early in the morning. “Callum,” he told her in return before giving her hand a shake. “Really?” He did his best to inject sarcasm in his voice despite sleep still weighing on him. He was never the most expressive person, and he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person by coming off stony. “Well, you could’ve fooled me. Hell of an icebreaker though so maybe you’re onto something.” He curled his hand back into the pouch of his hoodie now that introductions were out of the way. “So, what’re you gonna do about your water situation now? Risk thirst? Ryerson has a way of making an hour feel like an eternity. I heard that’s why they hired him actually.”
She nodded her head, an approving expression decorating her features as she admired Callum’s utterance, “Nice one,” she complimented sincerely, it sounded almost as good as when her Dad shouted it in traffic or at the telly whenever Melbourne Storm was playing but not quite. “You don’t think that describes you? Mate, you’re one grey hair away from waving your zimmer frame and telling kids to get off your lawn,” she assured him. Though he may have looked like the quintessential strapping young lad, he certainly didn’t sound like it, the way he went on and on about the other people who dared suck up oxygen in his airspace. “Ninnys!” she chimed, raising her voice more than what was generally appropriate for a public setting. “Oh my God, there you go- I rest my case,” she chuckled, confident that she had never heard anybody below the age of seventy eight say anything like that.
“Righto, I’ll start organising an outfit for your funeral then,” she provided, trying to disguise the smile creasing her cheeks, “-and I’ll drink a full carton of milk first and you won’t be able to do a thing about me letting ‘em rip all through the service,” she teased, childishly, “Sucks to be you, Marcho,” she cooed as he addressed the barista.
She rolled her eyes, deciding that she’d rather drink hot lava than a straight black coffee packed with sugar, “You sure there’s gonna be enough coffee in that sugar cup of yours?” she questioned without making her judgement discreet in any manner. “Oh, fuck off, I’ve never even had it,” she lied through her teeth. At most coffee shops in Melbourne they had more types of milk than they did coffees and she was pretty sure she’d tried just about all of them, oat included.
Zimmer frame? It took a second but Callum managed to piece it together and figured Joss was referring to a walker. A fucking walker? Oh hell no. Before he could come to his own defense again, Callum had to switch gears and shush Joss instead. “Yo, shhh.” Callum hushed her with a laugh, coming to act as the world’s worst sound barrier. “Listen, I know in Australia, you all like to go wild and shit but in Canada we’re nice and quiet, okay, shhh.” He could barely contain the grin that wanted to split his face.
Callum only rolled his eyes at Joss’s ribbing, knowing black coffee with extra sugar was the superior drink and she was only hating. "Yeah right, you’ve never had it.” Chapman was selling him shit and he knew it. “You’ve probably had that and more. Probably get soy milk on the weekends. Treat yourself to all other kinds on the holidays. Lil fake milk aficionado hiding right beneath our noses.” He laughed, poking Joss on the shoulder repeatedly with the plan to do it until she broke but was soon distracted by the arrival of their drinks.
“Hey, peep it.” Callum nudged Joss’s arm once he lowered his drink from his lips. “Someone’s earned herself a number.” He jutted his chin toward the writing on her coffee cup. “Looks like Mr. Barista Guy’s into fart play. Might have a reason to stay off oat milk after all huh, Chappo?” He stuck his tongue out at Joss and jogged out the door before she could do anything like whack him for how annoying he was being.
“oh, it’s definitely vodka.” keeping the lid of the bottle lightly screwed on top, esra pursed her lips to try to keep from laughing and drawing anymore attention than needed her way, especially now. shifting in her seat, so that she was just a little bit closer to callum and away from prying ears. “how about, every time ryerson reads literally everything he’s written on a powerpoint slide, we take a shot. a double shot if he stop to go on a tangent about something from his personal life that he’s reminded of, but does nothing but waste our time. deal?”
"First of all, if we followed any of those rules we’d have alcohol poisoning before class is over,” Callum told her with a chuckle. Everyone knew Ryerson had a tendency to not only be redundant but also useless. “And secondly, probably most importantly, that sounds like a blast but I’ve been off alcohol for the past two years.” Callum clicked this tongue. “Tough luck, but in another universe, I’d’ve drank you under this table.” A lie. Even back then, Callum wasn’t much of a drinker. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to be. But the universe and his genes worked together so that he’d be red in the face and sloppy by the fourth beer. And he wasn’t much better with hard liquor either. “I like your style though. I’m Callum.” He held his hand out for hers to slap against in introduction.
She chuckled at Callum’s pantomime, impressed that he had the energy to be silly and hadn’t spent it all on restraining from knocking the girl in front of them out with a single punch. “Loogie,” she repeated the word, scrunching up her face, “That’s a new one,” she noted and a gross one, she thought but kept that part to herself.
“That right there is what my Dad would call a fuckwit” it was a personal favorite of hers, it had more oomph than dick head and it was a little more unique as well. At least, that was the case in Canada, she’s discovered. “He’s a grumpy old man, like you,” she added with a smile on her face as she patted Callum’s shoulder affectionately, “You two would get on like a house on fire,” she considered playfully, picturing the two of them sat at a cafe complaining about every person and their dog that wandered by.
“Just a skim latte, double shot, no sugar, thanks,” she ordered before turning her attention to Callum, “Happy?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, though she suspected as much, her order couldn’t get that much more simple, “You can’t whinge if I get gassy now, cos I skipped the plant milk for you,” she teased, not caring if the barista heard her or not.
"Fuckwit,” he let the word roll off of his tongue. Sounded right, felt right. “Good enough for me.” Callum decided to make a point of incorporating the word into his everyday vocabulary now. It’ll switch things up from the usual ‘dickhead’ and ‘asshole’. “Grumpy old man?” Callum blinked, only slightly insulted. “I’m not a grumpy old man,” he insisted, “and if your dad’s anything like me, that just means he has impeccable taste and doesn’t have time for ninnys.” Because yes, anyone who didn’t just order coffee they way it was written on the board was a ninny. What was wrong with a plain black coffee? Or a regular latte? People were getting spoiled and it fucking showed.
“Delighted,” he responded, even rewarding Joss with a smirk. “Yeah, you’re not spotting me in the gym today,” he told her in response to hearing that. “If I die by a barbell to the throat, it’ll be because I was weak shit, not because your ass burp sabotaged me.” A colorful way of putting things but true nonetheless. He gave Joss a poke before ushering her to the side so he could put in his order. Show her how it was really done. “Black extra sugar.” No more than three words. “Thanks.” And though the thanks was meant for the barista, he was looking directly at Joss when he said it. “Hear that? 3 words. Simple. Fucking skim latte double shot.” He slid over his payment and headed off to the side to wait for his drink with Joss. “You an oat milk girl? You’re probably an oat milk girl aren’t you? Blondie.” He ruffled Joss’s hair.
“Aw, I’ll add that to my list of things you get cranky about then- can’t believe it’s not even noon and we’ve got two new additions,” long coffee orders and spit play were a couple of the more strange gripes on Callum’s long list of nuisances but she was confident she’d discover more before either of them graduated or moved to a different school.
She grinned devilishly at the warning, “Yeah, nah, actually, it’s gonna be twice as long. Just to piss you off,” she decided, “I’m gonna stand there umming and ahhing for a few minutes, just for good measure and then I’m gonna ask where every bean and seed in every type of plant-based milk is grown, then I’m going to ask for recommendations and reject every single one of ‘em. You’re gonna love it, mate. My Mum is the most annoying person in the World at any cafe or restaurant, I’ve got a life time of experience under my belt,”
Callum was well aware this was just a long-winded joke but it still struck fear in him. Just the thought of suffering through beans and seeds and fucking plant based milks made him want to drop dead where he stood. It was too much for someone who didn’t have an ounce of caffeine in him yet. “Yeah, okay, I’m just gonna—” He faked leaving the line, going as far as taking a couple of steps before returning to his place beside Joss once he’d given his show. “Don’t you dare,” he told her once he’d settled back next her. “I’ll change my mind on spit play and drop a loogie in your drink when you’re not looking.” His empty words were paired with a playful nudge to Joss’s side. “Thank fuck.” He sighed in relief when he noticed the line was finally moving again. “That girl should come with a warning sign,” he muttered to Joss as he watched Two-Pumps-of-Praline-Caramel-Swirl-whatever-the-fuck leave with a cup filled with enough sugar to make Dwayne Johnson get Dad Bod. “Is there a term in Australia for people who fucking suck?”
By now, Joss was fairly familiar with the way Callum operated and she was getting used to his running commentary. She was half listening to his lamenting, half scrolling through her Instagram feed while he complained about things that were beyond either of their control and arguably completely irrelevant to both of them, “I reckon you’ll survive,” it would be two minutes at most, she thought, “Shit, you’re not dying of thirst, are you?” she asked with faux urgency, raising an eyebrow as she questioned him playfully, “If you are, I can spit in your mouth for you, you might last a few more minutes that way, quick, let’s give it a go,” she suggested, her full attention on him now, her phone abandoned and screen locked, “Open wide, Marcho” she encouraged, bumping shoulders with him in a manner that made the Karens in the venue scowl at the pair for being rowdy in a public place.
"Doubt it,” Callum quipped in all of his grumpy dramatics, tipping his head back and sighing so he didn’t have to look at the patron’s head as she tried to decide what fucking milk she wanted in her drink now. It would probably take the next 5 minutes and he wouldn’t be surprised if it involved quarter cup measurements of different kinds of milk at the way this princess was customizing her fucking beverage. At Joss’s ribbing, Callum couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, leaning his head forward again and turning it to the right so he could catch Joss as she started to jostle playfully at his side. “Fuck off,” he told her breathily, a smile on his face that even he didn’t expect to have. Look at that, Bulky Grinch did have a sense of humor. His hand went up and pushed lazily at Joss’s cheek in a half-assed attempt at pacifying her. “Your spit goes in my mouth, I’m sending you back to Australia myself. Go be kinky with your kangaroos, I’m not into spit play.” The image of Joss getting weird with a bunch of marsupials entertained him more than he cared to admit. “Your order better not be that long when we get up there,” he threatened when they calmed down. It was a joke. Ish. If Joss’s order went beyond three words, Callum decided he was abandoning her there in advance.
“Why can’t a coffee ever just be a coffee?” Callum grumbled under his breath as he waited at the back of the line of a queue and listened to the shit show that was whoever was up front’s extensive coffee order. Two pumps of praline this, caramel swirl that, and a bunch of other unnecessary shit he didn’t care to give his attention to anymore. The drink probably didn’t even taste the way it was supposed to now. What was even the point of ordering coffee if you just wanted it to taste like a 5 year old’s wet dream? Though instead of complain any further, Callum just rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into the pouch of his hoodie, hoping the dentist’s nightmare of an order up front would end sooner than later.
edies eyes continue to wander across the noticeboard, before turning to acknowledge the other student “ well. information about upcoming productions always get posted here first. ” her tone is matter of fact, but she offers the stranger a smile nonetheless. “ i like to have as much time as possible to prepare before an audition. ” edie surveys the other, a smile still painted on her lips, “ you know, i don’t think our paths have crossed before. edie adler, it’s nice to meet you. ” she offers him her hand. shaking hands might be a little on the formal side for most university students but if there’s one thing edie values, it’s making a good first impression.
“Production? Like, acting and shit?” Not the most eloquent way to pose a question but Callum wasn’t the most eloquent person. At the sight of an extended hand, he blinked, thinking: oh shit, a handshake. Okay, so this girl was like... serious. In an attempt to meet her level of sophistication, Callum cleared his throat, pulled his shoulders back and met her hand with his, giving it a firm shake that would impress any girl’s father. “Callum,” he introduced himself, forcing his lips into a slight smile. “Marcher,” he thought to add after a moment since she’d given him her last name, almost blanking on the reality that sharing surnames was a thing because he hardly ever gave his unless he was speaking to someone that was responsible for giving him a grade. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ve... crossed paths,” he borrowed her vocabulary, the words feeling strange on his tongue. “What do you take?” He asked, moving beyond ‘polite’ and venturing into ‘curious’ now, wondering if they could have shared a general subject or two without him realizing.
she gathers her things from her table in the library, hand brushing against another’s as they too reach for her notebook. she snatches the book quickly, only feeling relief when it is in her grasp. “ did you think that was yours ? ” ava asks, brows knitted together in confusion, “ because i can assure you, it is not. ” / @somersopens·
After hours at the library hammering facts about nutrition into his head, Callum’s energy was shot. He just wanted to get home and fall into a small coma but unfortunately still had a commute home to struggle through. Though it seemed he couldn’t even get through packing his things into his bag properly. “Fuck.” He groaned. “Sorry.” A quick shake of his head in an attempt to become more alert. “Honest mistake. I’m just...” Piss tired. In dire need of a nap. Any and all of the above. Callum sighed, feeling his eyelids get heavier by the second. “My bad. Seriously,” he insisted, not caring to finish the explanation he started. He moved his hand over to grab the correct notebook and shoved it into his backpack. Bag now slung over his shoulder, his plan was to head out and home but he couldn’t in good conscience just bounce having noticed how stern the girl had been with him. “Sorry, aight,” he reiterated. “Didn’t mean to mess with you. Or your things rather.” Grammatically that was probably incorrect but it wasn’t like he could fucked in the state he was in. “We good? I didn’t take anything else of yours, right?” At least he hoped not. He would be pissed if he had to toss his things back out onto the table just to maybe find something of hers.
the solo cups were sticking together and as much as reese tried to pry them apart, she was having absolutely no luck. who knew that it’d require upper arm strength to rip apart plastic? she internally said ‘fuck it’ and poured the whiskey straight into the stack of cups. eyes widened as someone approached, “oh fuck…did you want some?” there were no other cups in sight. the journalist let out a loud, contemplative hum as she found a straw and stuck it into the whiskey. “here, we can share. i’ll sip from the cup and you can sip from the straw like a classy motherfucker.”
@somersopens·
Callum swiftly declined the offer with a half-hearted raise of his hand and an easy, “I don’t drink.” An explanation that usually earned him a question or two at a place like this. Yeah, he had no idea why he still attended parties either. "Do you like, want me to give it a shot?” He asked the girl. And by ‘it’, he meant untwisting the cups from each other. “I’m a pretty decent jar opener. Can’t be too bad of a cup... puller?” His brows knit together and his face pinched up. That didn’t sound right, he thought. “Anyway,” he continued on, hoping to gloss over that awkward moment. “Mind if I?” He held his hand out, figuring he could tug a cup from the bottom and separate the rest that way. “I’ll try not to spill your whiskey.”
esra looked down dubiously at the uncapped water bottle in her in hands. she had filled two the night before, but in a rush to get to her morning class, she had grabbed the first one she saw in the fridge. bringing the bottle to her nose, she sniffed the contents before relaxing back into her seat. “there is always a fifty percent chance that it’s vodka, can’t be too careful.”
The early morning was hardly Callum’s favorite time of day. The only redeeming thing about being awake at such an hour was that most people were usually too hungover or too lazy to be conscious, leaving the campus a generally quiet place until everybody managed to drag their asses out of bed. It left a pretty decent slice of time for Callum to enjoy being in public, scrolling mindlessly on his phone until the lecture officially started or something caught his attention. Mid-like of a 9GAG post, a voice beside him pulled his focus, his seatmate’s words earning a twist of his lips. “So, which is it? You gonna be wasted before Ryerson pulls up his PowerPoint or are you gonna suffer through this class sober like me?”
it’s a daily ritual for edie to check the campus noticeboards. despite having alerts set up for the theatre society’s posts on all social media platforms, there was something about seeing the announcement of a new production in glossy poster form that edie just adores. as she is scouring the board for anything of interest she notices another student sidle up beside her, and shoots them an interested look. “ sorry, did you need me to move? ” without waiting for an answer she shuffles aside just a little to allow them some room, before looking back up at the notices. “ it’s not an overly exciting array today unfortunately. ”
Callum hardly ever checked the noticeboards — he didn’t feel the need to since he was pretty much settled in his campus life and knew where and when he had to be somewhere — but since it was the start of a new term, he thought he’d give it a look-see. It’s not like he was on the lookout for anything specific. His schedule was pretty much set with hockey, working out, and leaving time to study but it never hurt to see if some hopeful fire-starter was putting forward new shit like a knitting club called Gosh Yarn It or something with some other equally quirky name. “Oh, nah, I—” But before he could finish, the shorter student moved aside. Well, barely, but still. “Right... I see that. I’m not really looking to join anything, just wanted to see what’s up. You, uh... looking for something specific?” He was being polite, awkwardly at that, but he felt like he owed the chick some effort for being so courteous and using words like ‘overly’ and ‘array’.
「 BEN LEVIN | 21 | CIS MAN 」 CALLUM MARCHER studies PHYSICAL EDUCATION and i think HE is in THIRD YEAR. also, pretty sure HE lives in COOLEY and they call HIM the GUARD. probably because HE is PROTECTIVE, DEDICATED, GRUMPY and IMPATIENT.
BASIC INFORMATION
Name: Callum Marcher
Age: 21
Birthday: November 15
Grade: Third year
Major: Physical Education major
(+) Traits: Protective, Dedicated
(-) Traits: Grumpy, Impatient
ABOUT CALLUM
Hockey player. On that athlete’s grind. 🏃♂️💪💯🏒 Dreams of playing for a team on the NHL one day. Partial to the Canucks because he hates himself.🤙
Speaking of being on that grind, he off alcohol and doesn’t do drugs so he’s like the perpetual designated driver. RIP, would punch a person for a cold beer tho.
Quiet, laidback type. Nice enough if you talk to him but otherwise easily irritated by noisy and/or obnoxious people. Will try to make his eye roll audible to get you to shut up around him if he thinks you’re being too loud.
Has a wee bit of an aggression problem?? Just a teensy bit. Can let most things slide because he believes he’s #grown now but usually if it’s about his family or friends, he can snap and go ape shit.
Trying to be more woosah about things now though because it’s his third year, he’s trying to be more serious about getting recruited. He doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his career before its even started.
Goes to therapy once a week to be more woosah but doesn’t tell anyone because he thinks it makes him weak. Usually lies and says he has a date with some chick he met on Tinder. Is someone suffering from toxic masculinity or what, amirite?
FUN FACTS
His little sister went missing 8 years ago at a carnival and he feels like it’s his fault even though he was just a kid himself when it happened. Growing up, he’s overcompensated by being extremely protective of his friends/family.
Doesn’t drink or do drugs but is notorious for eating like a beast. Can kill a large slice of pizza in 3 bites. He’s got that Matt Stoney chomp and his meals lowkey look like a 10,000 calorie YouTube challenge.
His mom sometimes calls him ‘Xiong’ as a nickname. It means ‘bear’. Surprisingly, it has nothing do to with the fact that he’s 6′2″ and has a very deep voice, but has everything to do with the fact that Brother Bear (2003) was his little sister’s favorite movie and she used to call him ‘brother bear’ or ‘bear’ when she was still around. 🥺
He deadass cannot watch that movie. That movie to him is like what garlic or sunlight is to vampires. He can’t even make eye contact with the poster.
9 times out of 10 is wearing a cap because he can’t be fucked to do his hair. Most times he wears it front-facing, only wears it backwards when he’s working out or at home studying (yes, he wears caps indoors).
