Indigo's Flounder

Chapter Two

Madrid smelled different from anything I imagined.

Not bad. Just…. different

The air carried the scent of roasted coffee, warm pavement, and something sweet drifting from a bakery downstairs. Cars hummed past the university residence hall while students laughed in fast Spanish and some English words I could barely follow. Everything felt alive, moving faster than I was ready for. I tightened my grip on my suitcase handle and stared up at the tall white colored building.

University, New life. Don’t mess this up. I said to myself

Inside, the lobby buzzed with voices and the sound of rolling luggage. A girl hugged her parents goodbye near the stairs, and someone argued over room keys at the reception. I checked my phone again to confirm my room number; floor 10, room 6.

“Alright here goes nothing”

I took the elevator up to my floor and located my room. I knocked, but there's no answer. Then I opened the door to find one corner empty and the other occupied. That simple means my roommate's already in but obviously not around.

“Well,” I whispered, stepping in. “Guess that’s mine.”

I had just dropped my bag when the door swung open behind her.

A girl walked in — tall, sharp-featured, dark blonde hair tied into a tight ponytail. She stopped immediately when she saw me.

Her eyes narrowed.

We stared at each other for a long second.

“…You’re early,” the girl said flatly.

I blinked. “Hi. I’m—”

“I know,” the girl interrupted me, dropping her tote bag onto her bed. “The new roommate.”

Her accent was Spanish but polished, her tone cool enough to lower the room’s temperature.

“I’m indigo” I said anyway, forcing a smile.

The girl hesitated before replying.

“Ella.”

Not unfriendly. Just… uninterested.

I waited for more — a smile, a question, anything.

Nothing came.

Ella began unpacking groceries as if I didn’t exist.

Awkward silence stretched between us.

“So…” I tried again. “How long have you been here?”

“A year.”

“Oh. Nice. Then you probably know the campus well?”

“Yes.”

Another silence.

I laughed nervously. “You’re not very talkative, are you?”

Ella paused, finally looking at me directly.

“I like quiet.”

The message was clear.

You are noise.

I felt heat creep into my cheeks. I turned back to my suitcase, pretending to organize clothes I've already folded twice.

Maybe Ella was just shy.

Maybe she was tired.

Maybe—

“You play music late?” Ella asked suddenly.

“No?”

“Have lots of friends over?”

“I just arrived.”

“Good.”

I slowly turned. “Good?”

Ella crossed her arms. “Last roommate treated this place like a party hostel. I need to study. I don’t want problems.”

The words weren’t loud, but they landed heavily.

“I’m not a problem,” I said quietly.

Ella shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Something inside me stiffened — a small spark of defiance pushing past her nervousness.

“Well,” I said, straightening, “I didn’t move countries to make enemies either.”

Ella raised an eyebrow, surprised by the response.

For the first time, something almost like respect flickered across her face — gone as quickly as it appeared.

She turned back to unpacking.

“Bathroom schedule is on the wall,” Ella said. “Kitchen closes at midnight. And the neighbours complain easily.”

“…Thanks.”

Silence again, but different this time. Less empty. More watchful.

Outside, church bells rang somewhere across Madrid.

I sat on my bed, listening, realizing two things at once

She was completely alone in a new country.

And her roommate definitely did not like her.

Yet.

But that's the least of my problems right now I didn't come to Madrid to be best friends with anyone or fall in love either, just to study and that's what I'm going to focus on, I say to myself as I touch Polly, my only companion on my wrist.