John had his earbuds in, so he hadn't heard Alexander approaching him. He didn't know that the other was there until there was a touch on his shoulder.

He jumped and turned, pulling his earbuds out as he did.

"Do you know that you sing along to your music when you think there's no one around to hear you?"

John blushed. He hadn't realized. Sure, he was alone, but he was also in the middle of campus. Anyone could have walked up. And he wasn't even entirely sure what it was that he was listening to, to be honest. He knew all the songs on his playlist so well that he would just sing along without even thinking.

"What kind of music even is that? 'I make these high heels work,' 'I'm not as think as you drunk I am,' 'champagne, cocaine, gasoline'?" Alexander sounded amused. "Bit different than what I'm used to."

'It's Panic! At the Disco," John explained. "One of my favorites." He shrugged. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, really. I just saw you over here and thought that I would come say hi. I have an essay to write for Cold War, so I was on my way to work on that. It's not until next week, though. Do you want to come back to my room with me? Thomas should be out until at least six, so we have some time."

"Sure," John said with a shrug. He was interested in seeing Alexander's room—you could tell a lot about someone from the way they lived.

Alexander lived on the fourth floor of his building. John headed towards the elevators, but Alexander wrinkled his nose.

"You're welcome to take that—I'll meet you there. I don't like elevators."

After pausing for a moment, John followed Alexander up the stairs, then, when they reached the fourth floor, down the hall to his room. Alexander paused for a moment to unlock the door, then led John in.

"Most of this shit is Thomas'," Alexander explained. "He had gotten used to having all the room in here. He pretty much cleared off the bed and the desk for me, and one dresser. Kept both closets, most of the floor space, all that. Oh, and I have the wall next to my bed to decorate." He gestured at it.

"Doesn't that bother you?" John asked.

Alexander shook his head, sitting on the bed and gesturing for John to join him. "Not really. It's not like I brought that much with me when I moved in."

John nodded, looking at the few things that Alexander had taped to the wall. A copy of the Declaration of Independence, a handwritten copy of the First Amendment, a ragged picture of a beautiful woman and a young child who looked about eight or nine.

"My mother," Alexander explained quietly. "She died when I was twelve. This is the only photo I have of her. That's me."

John grinned. "Aw, you were an adorable kid." His tone was joking, but he was completely serious. And he wouldn't say this, but he thought that Alexander was still adorable.

Alexander smacked John's arm lightly, but he was laughing. "Actually, and this isn't related to me being an adorable kid, as you say, I have something that I need to tell you. I've sort of wanted to tell you this since I met you, but I wasn't sure. But I think I can tell you, now."

"I know about your past," John said, and was met with a horrified stare from Alexander. "That's what you wanted to tell me, right? Eliza found an article after you punched Thomas."

Alexander was staring straight ahead, face blank. "I think you should go."

"Alexander…"

"Get out." Alexander's voice was tense, as if he was trying to keep his emotions in check. "Get out."

To: Group

I fucked up. Big time.

From: Mulligan

What did you do?

To: Group

So, I was hanging out with Alexander, and he said he had something to tell me, something that he had wanted to tell me since we had met and that he only now felt comfortable telling me. I thought he was going to talk about his past, so I told him about that article that Eliza found. He's really mad at me now.

From: Angelica

Oh no

From: Lafayette

You damaged his trust

To: Group

Yeah, thanks, Laf, I know.

From: Peggy

I said that we shouldn't have dug into his past.

From: Eliza

Did you try texting him?

To: Group

Not yet. He seemed really mad.

From: Eliza

Can I have his number?

From: Lafayette

May I, as well?

To: Group

[Shared contact]

From: Lafayette

Merci

From: Eliza

Thanks, babe,

From: Eliza

Talking to Alexander didn't exactly go so well.

To: Eliza

Oh?

From: Eliza

[Image attached]

To: Alexander

Hey Alexander. This is Eliza.

From: Alexander

Fuck off.

To: Alexander

I'm really sorry.

From: Alexander

Sorry isn't going to fix this. I asked all of you to not dig into my past. If any of you were reasonable people you would have learned the first time. Leave me alone.

To: Alexander

Alexander…

To: Eliza

Shit.

From: Eliza

I know. I don't think that we can fix this. I think that we lost our friend.

To: Eliza

I'm so sorry.

From: Eliza

Don't be.

John tried to talk to Alexander the next day in class, with no success. It was the quietest that he had ever seen the other, and it was a bit scary. Alexander didn't make John move seats, but he did pretend that John wasn't there at all, which was worse.

"He's completely ignoring me," John complained at lunch.

"He's completely ignoring all of us," Mulligan replied. "We've all tried to talk to him. He's not answering any texts and pretends we're not there if we try to talk to him in person."

"I'm really sorry that I told him that we knew about his past. I ruined his friendship for all of us. I shouldn't have done that," John said, looking crestfallen.

"It was the right thing to do," Lafayette said, the response barely understandable between their accent and the bite of pizza they had just taken.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Angelica scolded.

"Okay, mère." Lafayette rolled their eyes.

"But they are right," Angelica continued. "We shouldn't have done that, and you were right to tell Alexander, even though he now hates us all."

John didn't say anything, just nodded.

Alexander wasn't at the debate meeting, and Thomas was glaring at John from across the room. The first was odd. The second was less odd, but it still wasn't normal.

After the meeting, Thomas, wonder of wonders, walked up to John. "Not that I give a shit about Alexander, but all he does beside class is sit on his bed and write. Endlessly. He's always there. I don't think he's slept in days, and he's keeping me up. Like I said, I don't care about Alexander. But he's disturbing me, and he said that you were the cause. Fix this mess. Either get him to behave like an actual human being or get him out of the room. I don't care which. I can let you into the room so you can get this shit under control."

"I'll see you later," John muttered to Angelica, then grudgingly followed Thomas out of the room and across campus.

Once he had unlocked the door, Thomas vanished.

John stood in the doorway of the room, looking at Alexander. He could only see him in profile, but he really didn't look good. He was sitting crosslegged on his bed, back against the wall, typing away furiously on his laptop. His hair was greasy and hanging in his face, and even from the distance he was at John could see the bags under his eyes.

"How long has it been since you've slept?"

Alexander jumped. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to get out and to leave me alone."

"Thomas, of all people, sent me."

"I don't need your help."

John crossed his arms. "Alexander. I'm not taking no for an answer. You want to get rid of me, fine. But it's not going to be that easy."

"John." Alexander's voice was little more than a warning growl. "Out."

"No. There are steps to getting me out. First, you go shower. I'll wait here."

Alexander glared at John, but did as he was told. While he was gone, John grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off his desk and started on a letter for Alexander.

He finished the letter about a minute before Alexander returned, slipping it under Alexander's pillow.

"Okay. I've taken a shower. Now what do you want me to do?" Alexander demanded. His ponytail was dripping on his worn t shirt, and his feet were bare beneath ratty sweatpants. John just wanted to bundle him up in a million blankets and cuddle the shit out of him. But he couldn't do that, he reminded himself.

"We're going to the dining hall and you're going to eat something."

Alexander shook his head. "Not going out."

"Fine. Then we're going to the vending machine down the hall. You need to eat."

Alexander followed John slowly, not looking happy about it.

The hall vending machine sold more than just snacks, since the school knew that there were times when it was so much easier to run down the hall to buy a cup of soup or ramen or whatever instead of actually going to the dining hall.

John bought a cup of chicken noodle soup, then dragged Alexander to microwave it. When they got back to the room, John shoved the soup at the other. "Eat."

Alexander did, glaring angrily into the soup as if it was his worst enemy.

Once Alexander finished the soup, John offered him a piece of chocolate from his bag. "Do you have anything due tomorrow?"

When Alexander shook his head, John scooped up his laptop. "I'll give this back to you tomorrow morning in class. For now, sleep. That's an order. And I will check up with Thomas, who has no reason to lie about whether or not you slept."

Alexander looked positively mutinous, but he nodded.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow."

John was fast asleep, so he didn't hear his phone go off.

From: Alexander

Thank you.

This one is a bit shorter than I'd like, but I had to cut it off where I did. Because reasons.

John's listening to Panic! At The Disco because I needed an excuse to fuss over Death of a Bachelor. It's sooooo good. The title of this mess comes from the first song, Victorious. The song that John was singing along to is my personal favorite from the album, Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time. Also used it because John's music is going to be a recurring theme, I think, and so I'm basically giving him my playlist, because that way it's all music I know.

Mère: mother

Can you buy soup and stuff from a vending machine? I have no idea.

Also, I am rewriting this from Alex's POV when this is done. Given the issue that is the actual plot of this fic (one that we haven't gotten to yet, and one that you're all going to hate me for. Everyone on ao3 yells at me) it should be a lot of fun.

Oh, and I'm on tumblr: smallinsaneone. Come say hi.