The Roommate's Toxic Pact

Ten seconds.

That was exactly how long I had before my controlfreak roommate flipped the breaker, ready to wipe out the senior thesis I had just spent three sleepless nights bleeding over.

In my past life, this selfrighteous control freak used his sick, twisted obsession with minimalist healthy living to personally destroy my last chance at landing a fullride Ivy League scholarship.

But I was back. Reborn right into the exact fatal second he pushed me to the edge. I didn't hesitate for a single heartbeat.

I ripped his expensive phone right off the charger and slammed my laptop cord into the outlet to save my files.

If he wanted to play his twisted little dorm—room bullying games, fine. I was going to play for keeps. Chapter 1 Tick, tock.

The clock on the wall was seconds away from hitting 10:00 PM. Hunter's hand was already hovering over the dorm's main circuit breaker.

I stared dead at the progress bar on my laptop screen. 98%. Three all—nighters. Three days of surviving on nothing but caffeine and sheer willpower for this senior thesis.

All I needed was thirty more seconds for the upload to finish. In my past life, those exact thirty seconds were all it took for Hunter to slam that breaker down.

The room had plunged into a dead, suffocating darkness. My laptop screen blacking out right along with it. "Holden, you violated the dorm's Digital Detox Pact.

Ten o'clock is lights out. Cutting the power is exactly the punishment you deserve." His voice had sounded like a goddamn death sentence. Back then, I had dropped to my knees.

I had begged him, my voice cracking, pleading for just one minute. Just thirty seconds.

But he just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching my chest heave as I completely lost it in the dark. "I'm doing this for your own good.

Staying up late is toxic for your health," he had said. Because of that, my upload failed.

I flunked the class, lost my full—ride scholarship, and my entire future spiraled straight down the drain.

But now, the exact same nightmare was playing out all over again. "Ten seconds left." Hunter started counting down.

I could see the sick thrill of absolute control twitching at the corner of his mouth. I didn't break down this time. I didn't make a sound.

I just slowly pushed my chair back and stood up. The progress bar hit 99%. "Five, four, three…" Right as his mouth opened to say 'one', I moved.

I didn't hesitate for a single second. I reached over, ripped his expensive phone right off the charger, and slammed my laptop cord into the outlet. Ding. Upload complete.

The dorm plunged into pitch black. Hunter's countdown choked off in his throat. I could feel him staring at me, his brain short—circuiting in the dark.

I met his stunned gaze and flashed him the most innocent, sickeningly sweet smile I could muster. "Thanks for the heads—up, Hunter.

I'm going to bed right now." I snapped my laptop shut and climbed up into my bunk. Smooth, effortless, not a single wasted movement.

Leaving Hunter standing there alone in the dark, his jaw locked. The next morning, Hunter's alarm started blaring before the sun even thought about coming up. 5:00 AM.

The mandatory wake—up call dictated by his precious Pact.

In my past life, he used to literally rip the blankets off me at this exact time, dragging me half—blind and exhausted out to the track. But today, he was in for a massive letdown.

I kicked the sheets aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I was already fully dressed in a brand—new set of top—tier compression gear that gripped my muscles perfectly.

On my feet were the latest carbon—plated running shoes. Hunter slapped his alarm off, only to freeze. There I was, fully geared up, doing dynamic stretches in front of the mirror.

He blinked, staring at me like I had grown a second head. "Holden? You're…" I threw a glance over my shoulder and flashed him a blinding smile. "Morning, Hunter.

Ready to grind out another healthy day together?" The shock in his eyes quickly dissolved into smug satisfaction.

He honestly thought he had finally broken me, finally converted me to his cult of discipline. "Good.

Looks like you finally got your head on straight," he nodded, tossing the words at me like spare change to a beggar.

The other two guys in our room, Felix and Seth, started rubbing their eyes and rolling out of bed. Felix had always been Hunter's ultimate hype man.

He immediately shuffled over, his voice practically dripping with exaggerated awe. "Whoa, Hunter, you're insane!

You actually completely transformed Holden!" Hunter tilted his chin up just a little bit higher.

Chapter 2 I ignored their little performance and kept my focus entirely on my dynamic stretches. "Let's move. 5K today," Hunter barked, taking on the tone of a drill sergeant.

I fell in step behind him without a single word. The second our shoes hit the track, Hunter shot off the line.

He pushed a punishing pace right out of the gate, clearly trying to put me in my place.

Felix practically hacked up a lung trying to keep up with him alongside, panting out his usual brown—nosing. "Damn, Hunter, you're so fast!

Definitely built for the athletics department!" I trailed behind them effortlessly, tapping the screen of my smartwatch.

My heart rate sat firmly in the perfect fat—burning zone, every single stride locked to the exact second.

The sheer agony of being bullied by him in my past life had driven me to hack into top—tier athletic training databases, designing a custom, hyper—optimized program specifically to crush him.

The 5K vanished in a blur. Hunter and Felix were hunched over, clutching their knees and gasping for air.

I stood there looking like I had barely broken a sweat. "Are we done?" I tilted my head, putting on a mask of pure innocence. Hunter's jaw tightened.

He forced the words out between heavy breaths. "Yeah… five kilometers is plenty… for a beginner." His ragged breathing rasped over the morning track like a broken accordion, beads of sweat dripping miserably onto the toes of his running shoes. "Oh." I nodded, instantly dropping into a set of high knees. "Guess I'll do another five then.

I'm just getting warmed up." I hit the track again before he could even string together a coherent sentence.

I tore down the lane under the early morning sun, my strides light and aggressive, moving like a machine running on an endless battery. Hunter stood frozen on the sidelines.

His eyes tracked my back, narrowing into hard slits. The muscles in his jaw ticked. It wasn't just shock screwing up his face; it was the raw burn of his authority being trampled.

Felix just gaped like a stranded fish, his mouth hanging open without a single word coming out.

By the time I crushed the full 10K and walked back into the dorm, Hunter had already plated up his signature healthy breakfast—a pile of rubbery boiled chicken breast and a few sad stalks of steamed broccoli.

He shoved a plate across the table toward me. "Eat," he ordered, his tone leaving zero room for debate. "The Pact mandates high protein, low carb breakfasts." Felix practically lunged for his fork, chewing with this exaggerated look of pure bliss. "Man, Hunter, your chicken is incredible!" I stared at the flavorless, dry slab of meat on my plate, my stomach doing a slow, hard flip.

In my past life, choking down this garbage had turned me into a walking skeleton, completely wrecking my metabolism. I didn't touch it.

Instead, I turned to my locker and pulled out a shaker bottle. Right in front of their faces, I dumped in a scoop of whey protein, creatine, and glutamine.

I splashed in some ice—cold almond milk, snapped the lid shut, and shook it hard. Clack, clack, clack. I tipped my head back and chugged the whole thing down.

I wiped my mouth, letting out a satisfied, heavy exhale.

Hunter and Felix stared at me like I had just drank toxic waste. "Holden, what kind of trash are you putting in your body?" Hunter's brows snapped together, his voice sharp with judgment.

I casually swirled the empty shaker bottle, taking my sweet time. "Whey protein. The actual gold standard for anyone who actually lifts.

It absorbs faster than your boiled chicken and packs way more nutritional value." "Oh, and I threw in some creatine too.

It spikes muscle explosiveness and endurance." Every single word dropping from my mouth landed directly in the massive, gaping hole of his so—called fitness knowledge.

Chapter 3 Hunter's face flushed a deep, ugly red. He ground his jaw. "Shortcuts. Real fitness is about putting in the actual work and eating clean, natural food.

Not dumping chemical garbage down your throat." His voice cracked slightly, the volume dialed way up to mask the absolute panic of being exposed.

Felix jumped right in to defend his master. "Yeah! Don't act like you're some genius just because you scrolled through a few TikToks, Holden.

Hunter is a professional!" I let out a dry laugh. "Professional? Your version of professional is wheezing on the track like a deflated tire?

Or is your 'profession' choking down boiled chicken breast that tastes like dry cardboard, while knowing absolutely nothing about basic whey protein and sports supplements?" I kept my voice dead level, but every single word landed like a backhand straight across his face. "You—" Hunter shoved his chair back and shot to his feet, his chest heaving.

The temperature in the dorm room flatlined.

Seth, our fourth roommate who hadn't made a sound all morning, quietly slid his chair back, desperate to stay out of the blast radius. "What?

Hit a nerve?" I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Hunter, your entire hardcore fitness routine is a joke. We live in an era of actual sports science.

It's about data and efficiency." "That precious Pact you're so proud of?

It's completely full of holes." He slammed his hands on the table. "Bullshit!" "Is it?" I stood up, closing the distance between us until I was staring dead into his eyes. "Then let's make a bet." I didn't blink.

I just let the absolute certainty in my gaze lock him down. The muscles in his neck jumped.

For a second, he couldn't even form a word. "We bet on…" I let the words hang in the air, watching the nervous twitch in his jaw, before pointing right at the framed Digital Detox Pact on the wall. "Whoever violates the Pact the most this month has to act as the other's personal maid for the next thirty days.

Doing all the chores. Including scrubbing dirty underwear and socks. Deal?" I made sure to emphasize the words dirty underwear. The color drained from Hunter's face.

In his twisted little brain, forcing other people to do his laundry was just natural selection. But the thought of him scrubbing someone else's? That was ultimate humiliation.

Felix practically shrieked. "Holden, you're out of your mind!

You can't make Hunter do that!" "Is he scared?" I kept my eyes locked on Hunter, a mocking smirk playing on my lips. "Or do you just have zero faith in your own ridiculous rules?" Baiting an egomaniac.

It literally never failed. "You're on!" Hunter shoved past me, his voice cracking. "Watch your back, Holden!

I'm going to have you crying while you scrub my socks!" My smirk deepened. Hunter had no idea. The game hadn't even started yet.

Day one of the bet, Hunter completely flipped the switch into full psycho stalker mode.

He acted like a prison warden, tracking my every single move, desperate to catch me slipping up on his precious rules.

When I had class, he would literally stand by the door with his phone out, timing me to make sure I didn't stay late to talk to the professor.

If I went to the library, he demanded I badge out by exactly 9:30 PM. I swear he was half a second away from timing my bathroom breaks with a stopwatch.

And Felix had fully embraced his role as Hunter's pathetic little lapdog, acting like a walking security camera to report my every move. "He just stared at the double bacon cheeseburgers in the dining hall for way too long!" "He's been at the water fountain for over five minutes!" I wasn't living in a college dorm anymore.

I was inside a maximum—security cell block. But I didn't give them a single inch.

Chapter 4 I followed every single rule of the Pact to the absolute letter, becoming even more hardcore than Hunter himself. He woke up at 5:00 AM? My eyes were open by 4:50.

He ran a 5K? I crushed a 10K. He ate steamed veggies? I literally bit into raw cucumbers.

By exactly 9:59 PM, I was flat on my back in bed, sleep mask secured and earplugs jammed in, completely radiating a do not disturb aura.

A week of this, and I was completely untouched. Hunter, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with stress from constantly trying to catch me slipping.

Dark circles were starting to bruise the skin under his eyes.

That night, Felix stepped out of the shower and casually tossed a pile of his dirty gym clothes straight onto his desk chair—underwear included.

A damp, sour stench immediately hit the air in the cramped room.

Hunter's brow instantly snapped together. [ Digital Detox Pact, Rule 7: Roommates must maintain personal hygiene; dirty clothes must be washed and hung up on the same day. ] "Felix," Hunter's voice dropped an octave. "Your clothes." Felix was lying back with a sheet mask plastered over his face, scrolling on his phone.

He swiped his hand dismissively without even looking up. "Ugh, I'm exhausted. I'll just wash them tomorrow." He clearly thought Hunter wouldn't actually do anything.

After all, he was the guy's most loyal cheerleader. The muscles in Hunter's jaw tightened.

If he let Felix slide, he was openly slapping his own face and shattering the very rules he had forced down our throats. If he didn't, he risked alienating his favorite lapdog.

I leaned back against the pillows, a cold smirk pulling at my mouth.

The show was finally starting. "Hunter…" Felix caught the shift in the room and instantly dialed up the whining. "I'm seriously so dead today.

My legs are basically jelly from the run. Just let it go this one time, okay?" He stretched his leg out, trying to nudge the toe of his slipper against Hunter's shin.

His classic move. The hard line of Hunter's mouth actually started to soften.

I let my voice cut through the room. "Pact Rule 11, Penalties: Violators must complete one chore for the designated 'Health Star' of the day." I didn't yell, but the words sliced perfectly through the dead silence.

I took my sweet time sitting up, pointing a finger straight at the leaderboard taped to the wall. I had drawn it up a few days ago to track everyone's compliance.

Plus one point for following a rule, minus five for breaking one. Right then, the score under my name was absolutely blowing everyone else out of the water.

Meanwhile, thanks to all his lazy little shortcuts, Felix was sitting solidly in the negatives. "According to your rules, I'm currently sitting at the top of the leaderboard." I leaned back against the pillows, using my most innocent gaze to admire the stiff, frozen expressions on their faces. "So, I guess it's Felix's turn to service me now.

Right, Hunter?" Hunter's lips parted, but zero sound came out. He was the one who had smugly agreed to the leaderboard. He was the one who enforced the rules.

And now, I was weaponizing his own system to back him into a dead end. All the color drained out of Felix's face.

He snapped his head between me and Hunter. "Hunter…" His voice cracked, teetering on the edge of a sob. Hunter pulled in a sharp breath.

Finally, he ground the words out through his teeth. "Follow… the rules." There was no way he was going to nuke his own absolute authority just to save a sidekick.

Chapter 5 I laughed. I took my time reaching into my laundry hamper, pulling out a pair of socks that had been completely soaked through with sweat from a 10K run.

I walked right over to Felix and held them out. "Here. Knock yourself out." The stinging, sour stench rolling off the fabric instantly turned his face green. "Holden!

You… you're a psycho!" He shrieked, stumbling backward like I was handing him live radioactive waste. "What?

Can't handle playing by the rules?" I raised an eyebrow. "Or does the Pact only apply to everyone else and not you?" Felix was literally trembling with rage, tears pooling in his eyes as he shot a desperate, begging look at Hunter.

Hunter completely avoided his gaze, staring at the wall instead. "You messed up. Take the punishment," he clipped out coldly.

Felix finally grabbed the socks out of my hand with a sob and practically threw himself into the bathroom. A second later, the sound of muffled dry—heaving echoed through the door.

I stared at Hunter's ashen face, my mood skyrocketing. Hunter, this was barely the warm—up. I was going to rip your little dictatorship apart from the inside out.

Felix's "betrayal" happened way faster than I expected. Ever since he was forced to scrub my sweaty socks that night, the looks he shot me were pure poison. But with Hunter?

The hero—worship was gone, replaced by this cold, distant resentment. He stopped acting like the guy's personal cheerleader. He stopped hovering.

Instead, he started pulling quiet little acts of sabotage. When Hunter ordered him to run, he'd hide in the shadows by the bleachers and scroll on his phone.

When Hunter forced steamed veggies on him, he'd secretly order takeout and inhale it the second Hunter left the room.

For the first time ever, massive cracks were tearing through Hunter's authority. Meanwhile, I kept flawlessly playing the role of the model student.

Thanks to my hacked training and nutrition plan, my body was hitting peak condition.

My skin was tight, my abs were cutting through sharply, and I was radiating pure, aggressive energy. I even started hitting the actual campus gym to start moving heavy iron.

Which was exactly where I "accidentally" ran into Spencer. Spencer was a grad student in the Sports Science department, essentially a god in the campus lifting scene.

I was right in the middle of a heavy deadlift set when he walked over. "Hey, your form is solid, but you could definitely brace your core a little tighter," he said, his voice smooth and professional.

I looked up and met a sharp, clean—cut face. "Thanks for the tip," I flashed him a smile. "No problem." He eyed the plates loaded on the bar. "That's some serious weight you're pulling." The conversation just flowed perfectly from there.

We talked about training splits, supplement stacks, and recovery protocols. Spencer actually knew his shit inside and out.

Half of his theories lined up exactly with my own research. We clicked instantly. Right until a harsh voice completely ruined the vibe. "Holden. It's ten o'clock.

Time to go back." Hunter. Chapter 6 I didn't even hear him walk up. Hunter materialized right behind me, his face dark, blocking my space like a pissed—off bouncer.

His eyes darted between me and Spencer, cold and sharp with raw hostility. "Who's your friend?" Spencer asked smoothly. "My roommate," I deadpanned. "Got it." Spencer gave a quick nod before turning his attention back to me. "About that power clean form we just discussed." "Next time, I'll bring you into the department's motion capture lab.

We can run the raw data. It'll give you a way better visual breakdown." "Hell yeah.

Thanks, Spencer." I grinned, actually meaning it. "Anytime." Spencer flashed a relaxed smile, turned, and walked out of the weight room.

The tension radiating off Hunter was suffocating. The air between us felt heavy enough to choke on. "Holden." He ground the name out through his teeth. "I'm warning you.

Stay the hell away from guys like that." "Guys like what?" I blinked, playing completely dumb. "You think just because he's got a pretty face and knows how to spout some smooth bullshit, he's actually better than me?" Hunter closed the distance between us, his chest puffed out.

The look in his eyes was this sick, desperate mix of pathetic insecurity and absolute control. "He's just a slick talker.

You can spot a fake a mile away." He sneered, his lip curling. "Lifting is lifting. What's the point of all that flashy, overcomplicated lab theory?

It doesn't build real muscle." I stared at his face, the features literally twisting with ugly, raw jealousy. A cold laugh echoed in my head. He didn't hate the science.

He was just dead—ass terrified of anything he couldn't understand or control. And I was going to use every single thing he didn't understand to bury him