CHAPTER 4

Alex looked around the mostly barren dorm room. There were two beds and two basic desks provided by the school, but that was all. No bedding, no extra lighting, not even seats for the damn desks. He often just borrowed one from work, so long as he brought it back in one piece his boss didn't mind. But there was hardly any extra space for any more furniture; he hoped whatever more John was bringing into the room wouldn't take up too much more of the already limited floor. The room was bigger then the dorms the freshman and undergraduates used, but not by much. Such as was the life of the struggling college student, but then Alex was used to having less.

He looked between the beds and desks and decided to take the set that aligned the desk to look out the window at the campus below. Alex knew he had a remarkable ability to focus, even in the face of distractions. The boxes and his suitcase that his roommate's siblings had been kind enough to bring in were stacked next to the two closets and he moved what was his over to the bed next to the desk he chose. Most of his worldly possessions were kept back at the studio, which was honestly just most of his work supplies. Everything he owned not directly related to that was packed into this suitcase, single box and a backpack. That consisted of some clothes, some toiletries, a change of bed sheets and the supplies he would need for the school year. Several years in foster care and moving from place to place had taught him it was better to travel as light as possible. Things were just things, they could always be replaced.

There was only one thing he'd managed to hold onto his whole life however, and he dug it out from the pocket in the suitcase he'd stashed it in. A single grainy, old photograph, the last remaining relic from his now distant childhood. It was the only photo he had of his family in as whole a piece as it could have been. His mother was still alive, his father hadn't left, and his siblings hadn't been taken away yet. He was only four, held in the arms of his father while his older brother's were embraced in their mother's arms, her smiling face between each of theirs. It was some sunny day at the beach that had been walking distance from his childhood home. The frame had cracked and broken long ago, and he'd always meant to get it replaced but he didn't want to break another frame with the constant moving about. He figured it would be better to just be mindful and delicate with the photograph, and one day when he owned his own home, he'd get it restored and framed again.

There was a single flat head pushpin in the same suitcase pocket and he fed it through a hole at the top of the photograph before pushing it into the wall next to his bed. He missed his family. He'd have to write to his brother soon.

He looked over at the few boxes John had brought and wondered about his new roommate. The man hadn't said that much over lunch, at least now he knew why. He supposed John was alright, but his friend, the French man, he worried Alex. Lafayette was entirely too nosy for Alex's comfort, at least the questions John's parents had asked were standard issue polite lunch conversation level and easy enough to skirt around with his usual vaguely worded lies. But Alex could already tell that Lafayette was a digger. And that worried him. Lafayette probably wasn't going to settle for vague words and a charming, deflective smile; he could see past those things, see them for what they were, an illusion, a trick of social grace. He'd seen the way Lafayette had handled John's mother and it was clear the French man knew how to play people up to make them like him. Alex couldn't be mad about that exactly, after all he did that all the time for his work in the words he picked, the tone of voice he used, hell even the exact way he moved his body catered to what someone else found appeasing. Yet for Alex it was all an act, just a show. He did it so that people would like him, but work was a stage where he had to be someone else and that's what Lin was, a character he played that anyone could love. And while he, Alex, had learned a lot from being Lin and did use those skills in other areas of his life, they were far more subtle and meant primarily to protect himself. Alex didn't like when people wanted to get to know him better. He kept what he did for money in one box and the rest of his life in another and there were only a handful of people who moved between the boxes. People he trusted to keep the boxes separate. People who knew he had to keep them separate.

A knock came from behind him and Alex turned to see a familiar bespectacled face leaning in the open door. "Benny!" he greeted with a smile. An elder gentleman made his way into the room as Alex moved to hug him. "Ahaha, it feels weird to see you outside of work!"

"And fully clothed no less." The man chuckled as he returned the hug. "I'm certain my students will appreciate that as well."

"They're missing out, it's always a pleasure to watch a master work," Alex replied.

"You tease. I saw you on my roster for this year, can I trust you won't be a distraction to your fellow students or will I need to be bringing a rack to my classroom from now on?"

"A paddle or whip would be easier to carry."

"True, but it wouldn't have the same shock value of knowing this old bird could hog tie them and hoist them from the ceiling if they misbehave."

"What about a simple spanking?" Alex said with a coy smile.

"You know you don't get spanked for being naughty. Although a ball gag might be a good thing to keep in my desk now, wouldn't it?" He chuckled at the almost comical way the younger man scrunched his face to show his displeasure at the idea.

"I'll try to behave in class, Benjamin. What brings you out to the student housing?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Make sure you were going feel comfortable staying out here over the weekend." He eyed the boxes that belonged to John. "It seems your roommate also decided to move in today. Have you had a chance to meet him yet?"

"Yeah, he seems like a nice kid," Alex replied. "Uhhh, what's going on this weekend?"

"The weather report says we should be getting some of the storm that's blowing up from the south."

Alex felt a small chill run down his spine. "Oh?" he tried to feign a casual tone, like the idea that a little rain didn't make his heart skip a beat in fear. "Yeah, I was tracking it a bit the other day, but uhhh, you know how storms go. They change all the time." Benjamin gave him a knowing look. "I'll keep your offer in mind. You know, if it looks bad."

"You have a key to my place if you need it. I'll see you in class later this week then?"

Alex smiled and nodded. "Of course. Benjamin?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Thank you."

The gentleman waved airily as if to say it was no trouble and made his way from the room, leaving Alex with a sense of security and warmth. Benjamin was one of the few people in Alex's life he trusted to move between his boxes without disturbing the contents inside. He had been with the Company for years, almost as long as it had been around, but he'd been doing what Alex did for far longer then that. Fifty years, actually. Alex had been endeared to him ever since he'd first told him the most ridiculous story about having to run uphill both ways in the snow while being chased by wolves and on fire to be able to put on a show.

Alex checked the time and realized that if he didn't hurry soon, he'd be the one running uphill both ways and chased by wolves to make a show. He grabbed his book bag and checked it's contents to be sure he'd have what he'd need for the night, then slung it over his shoulder and headed out the door.

"What I don't understand," Thomas said as he kicked open the student housing door behind him. "Is why the fuck you need to lug this heavy ass table into and out of every damn dorm you live in, John!"

"Fuck off, Thomas," John replied. "Okay, hold, on wait. You gotta turn it to the side or it won't fit around the desk."

"It won't fit around the damn door at an angle, it won't turn like that, John!" the Virginian replied.

"Thomas, lift," Lafayette said. Just as the other man complied he goosed John who squealed and also lifted the table higher. Lafayette wasted no time in sliding under them, ignoring John's indignant cries, to get back into the doorway, and moved the desk out of the way. "There, daddy fixed it."

"Daddy get back here and help his sad gay ass son and best friend!" Thomas yelled at Lafayette who simply rolled his eyes and complied.

"Aww, Thomas," John said as they moved further into the bedroom. "Cheer up. At least you're still his gay ass son."

"Laurens, I will drop this table where I stand..."

"Annnd it is in!"

"That's what she said."

"Great! One chair, a mini fridge, and three more boxes to go."

"Seriously, John. Can you throw this damn thing out after this semester? I will literally buy you a new one for every semester if you do."

"No," John said, patting the steel and heavy wood table and wiping the sweat off his face. "I like this table. It's served me well for many years. Did I tell you how I found it?" Wispy baby hairs that usually framed his face now stuck to his skin in the wet sheen of sweat.

"Please no," Thomas begged. "Not again."

"I found it next to a dumpster."

"YOUR FAMILY HAS COLLEGE FUNDS FOR FIVE CHILDREN TO GO TO IVY LEAGUE SCHOOLS, THEY CAN BUY YOU NEW SHIT, JOHN."

"And as soon as I saw it, I thought, 'Meeeeeeeee!'"

"There's rust on this corner! If someone cuts themselves they will need a shot for sure!"

"But once I called you up and heard how much you hated moving it, that's when I knew that me and this table were gunna be together, forever."

"Laf! That's it. No more. It's me or the queer turtle."

"Do not be silly, Thomas. I love you both equally." Lafayette clapped his hands and ushered Thomas back out the door. "One chair, a mini fridge, three more boxes to go! Then I will let you drink!"

"I can't, I have that nerd thing with James that I'm going to!"

"Oooooh! A daaaaate?!"

Voices faded down the hall as John finished wiping the dust off his table. It wasn't much, but the campus storage area was simply archaic and dust got on anything kept in the units for more then three days. He pushed hard and managed to scoot it back into a corner between a bed and the closets. It was someone's old couch table, taller then a coffee table and thinner, and had three metal shelves underneath it's top. It had served him beautifully as a makeshift kitchen space for so long and, despite what he would tell Jefferson, he honestly kept it more for it's practicality then anything else. Hearing Thomas bitch about moving it every four months or so, however, that was just an added bonus.

He looked to his right and noted that his table would be at the foot of the bed Alex had chosen. He hoped that would be okay. The guy had said he didn't have anything more to move in, and John self consciously looked between the boxes he had and the small pile of things Alex had brought. Maybe Thomas was right about him needing to get rid of some things. But not the table. He was gunna make Thomas move that heavy ass chunk of wood and metal for five more semesters, at least. And when John was done with it, he'd make Thomas move it to same dumbass dumpster John had found it at just to prove a point.

John noted that Alex had made up his bed and laid out a pillow of his on it already. Crisp blue sheets and a microfiber blanket at least; it wasn't five star luxury but at least it was domestic. He was glad for that, as John's last roommate hadn't owned any sheets when they moved in together. He also thought things like doing his own laundry was optional. And that John's things were his things too. He sighed and shook the memories away.

Peeking over his shoulder at the door to make sure no one was about to come through it, John moved up the side of the bed and picked up Alex's pillow. The pillowcase was little more then the cheap cotton from a set anyone could buy out of Walmart, and for a moment that perplexed him. One of the reasons John paid for Alex's services was because the quality was a major stressing point to the 'products' they offered. The cameras were a fair amount better then a standard webcam, and the room Alex worked out of seemed nice. Nothing wildly fancy, but certainly more done up then this. He had throw pillows on his work bed and John had always imagined the sheets were something soft and cozy. He wondered for the first time what kind of things went on in Alex's life when camera's weren't trained on him, when his alter-ego Lin wasn't performing. Guess he had four months to figure it out.

John buried his nose against Alex's pillow and inhaled, smelling a musk and a peculiar scent of soap, like an Irish Springs bar. He thought back to their last session, a discussion about longing to be held. He wondered if it would smell the same, were he to bury his nose against the back of Alex's neck instead of in the man's pillow. He wondered what it might be like to hug him, or even to kiss him, to be really and genuinely close to Alex rather then just watching him on a screen.

"What are you doing?"

Whirling, John realized he'd been caught red-handed with the pillow by Lafayette. He frantically threw it back onto the bed and said. "Nothing!"

"Ne mens pas," the French man chastised. "You were smelling Alex's pillow, non?"

"Maybe," John admitted.

"How much do you like him?"

John shrugged. "Enough...A lot..."

Lafayette stepped forward and embraced John. "You should not be sniffing his pillow," he said.

"I know," John replied. "I'm sorry...It's weird right? I'm weird...I'm sorry..."

"You are not!" Lafayette said, stepping back and squeezing John's cheeks between his hands. "You should not be sniffing his pillow without first getting him to invite you into his bed, that is all."

"You dislike watching porn and yet you would let me sleep with a porn star?" John's reply came out squished between his lips.

"Porn stars are people too," the French man replied. He kissed the tip of his friend's nose and let him go. "But if I find out you are doing porn to make money I will have words for you. Lots of them." He narrowed his eyes at John. "You are not doing porn, are you you John?"

This time John squished Lafayette's face in his hands, but neglected to tell him it was because he did not like the look he was receiving from the man. It was far too reminiscent of some of the looks his father could give him. "Noooooo, I most certainly am not. It'll please you to know that you are the only man I've ever had sex with."

"It does not, but I respect your choices. We will find you another man to couple with, one who is not like me, and that you will like better then Thomas."

John huffed and let Lafayette go. "Anyone is better then Thomas," he stated, moving toward the door again as his friend followed along behind. "The only way I could possibly have a worse date then the one Thomas took me on would be if they shot themselves in the middle of dinner and made me pick up the tab."

"John, what you lack in flamboyant expression you more then make up for in your over dramatic thoughts."

"You take care of the flamboyant expression for me, Laf. I'll just be the dramatic one. That's how this works, right? Whenever I panic and start crying about how gay I am, you swoop in with a jazzy song and dance number from broadway that's all about loving yourself and not changing for anyone."

Lafayette laughed. "Speaking of, which show would you like me to take you to this year? Thomas says there is one about founding fathers that stars his uber great grandfather. He has talked almost as much about it as his crush."

"I've heard of that one. I had actually wanted to see it, but not with Thomas."

"What? I heard it is very good. Why would you throw away a chance to see it with your best friends?"

"Because you're my best friend Laf, and he's...not. Just go see it with Thomas, we can catch a different show that he'd hate. Like the Nutcracker or something."

"Go see what with Thomas?" Thomas asked as they approached the truck again. John stepped up and took one of the last boxes out of the truck bed. "What show are you dragging me to this time? Please tell me it's not another furry show."

"That production was called Cats, Thomas."

"I know what I saw, and what I saw was two hours of some goddamn furries dancing around on a stage, that's what you took me to see. I would have had a far better time if they had just let loose some feral cats on stage and made us watch that for two hours."

"Awww, you do not like Broadway shows?"

Thomas heaved a box over the side of his truck on top of the other box in John's arms. "Not in particular, no."

"Not even a certain rap musical about your great grandfather that I happen to have tickets for a viewing next week?"

"SHUT UP YOU DID NOT GET TICKETS TO JEFFERSON: THE MUSICAL, TO NOT PLAY WITH MY HEART LIKE THAT YOU GLOURIOUS FRENCH BASTARD!" Thomas jumped from the truck bed and picked Lafayette up to spin him around while John just rolled his eyes. Of course it was just like Thomas to only be interested in something because it pertained to him, and not because it stood on it's own merits or anything.

"Not only do I have tickets, I have four of them. You, me, John if he wants to come..."

"Fine. I'll think about it..."

"Wait," Thomas said putting Lafayette down. "It's always been just you, me and John. Who is the fourth ticket for?"

"Oh, just a certain boy my friend may have a crush on named James—"

"SHUT UP!"

"Okieriete—"

"SHUT UP!"

"Madison."

"SHUT UUUUP! LAFAYETTE, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU'RE AMAZING!"

John flinched as Thomas screamed some, picking up their mutual friend and whirling him around again. As he set the laughing Lafayette down, he kissed each cheek in turn several times and John had to remind himself to check his own jealousy. Lafayette was allowed to have other friends. Lafayette was allowed to dote on them too. Lafayette wasn't his; he never was.

"There is a catch," the French man continued. "You will have to ask him to come see it, as a date. As a date-date."

"Like, a first date?"

"Oui. A double date-date."

"BY NEXT WEEK?!"

"You can do it mon ami, I see how you talk to people all the time."

"You see how I talk to people, not James!"

"James is people!"

Still, John had to walk away. Lafayette had assured him they weren't sleeping together, but sometimes John's brain couldn't see anything but the two of them grinding on one another. The idea make him sick. He loved Lafayette and he wanted him to be happy, with literally anyone else but Thomas. Thomas was cocky and full of himself. Thomas didn't do sensitive or empathy, at all let alone well. Thomas didn't like hearing the word no when it pertained to something he wanted...Thomas was a tool. And John couldn't see why Lafayette hung around him.

Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly what Thomas was to Lafayette and maybe that's why John hated him so much.

Thomas was Lafayette's Alex.

No, Thomas wasn't a sex worker, and overall John trusted the word of his friend even if he had invasive thoughts that told him otherwise. Lafayette didn't do sneaking around; even when he was with John he had demanded a level of visibility in their relationship, something they had fought over constantly as John was a far cry away from ready to come out of his metaphorical closet, even now. If he said he wasn't dating Thomas then that was the truth. But Thomas was the person Lafayette had used to get over John, and maybe what hurt John the most was knowing that his friend was able to go out and meet a real person, develop a real relationship, and have a genuine connection with another human being.

And John hadn't.

He paid someone to pretend to love him. And he'd been sneaking around to do it.

He dropped the boxes at the foot of the small pile of them now occupying the room. As much as Thomas was an asshole, he was at least real. Lin was a sham, an illusion that had been shattered this morning and John still didn't know what that meant for him, which in turn made him nervous. He glanced at Alex's bed again, seeing the pillow thrown against the wall where he'd left it. Was it too much to hope for that he'd get a chance to do what Lafayette had? To develop at least a friendship with another male that was somehow emotionally fulfilling? He picked the pillow up and put it back where Alex had first had it, before he'd tossed it aside.

The sounds of Thomas' excited voice running a mile a minute about the prestige passed down his family line for generations alerted him that the two other males were approaching. John signed, and mentally prepared himself for a lot of nodding along and tuning out Thomas' self absorbed speech. By now of course, he was pretty good at that sort of thing.

Alex tapped the key card he'd gotten from the guard downstairs and, hearing the drawn out beep that told him it was unlocked, pulled the heavy metal door open and walked right in. A circular and marble counter-top receptionist desk took up a chunk of the open floor to the left and to his right was a sitting area not unlike any one might find in an upscale hotel. A leather couch sat along one wall with matching sitting chairs, one of them occupied, and glass tables. The floors were polished hardwood that reflected the delicate lights above. Floor to ceiling frosted windows let in sunlight without sacrificing privacy. Overall, if it wasn't where he'd worked for the last two years of his life, Alex would have felt very out of place in his beat up old converse sneakers, tattered, baggy jeans and over-sized hoodie by comparison.

"Ah, Alexander!" a voice greeted him and he smiled, looking over to the desk.

"Mr. Burr, sir," he replied, walking over to the desk as the man behind it took his feet off the counter he'd propped them against.

"Are you ever going to tire of greeting me like that?" Burr asked a casual smile laid out on his face.

"Probably not." Alex told him.

"How did the move it go? Have you met your roommate for the semester yet?"

Alex dropped his bag at his feet and hopped onto the counter. "I did, he seems like a sweetheart. Cute too."

"You've said that about all your roommates." Alex smiled as the woman approached from across the room. With her dark hair and eyes, the red color of her lips stood out like a beacon of beauty. "One would think you'd run away with them if you could."

"Nah, James wasn't that into me last semester. I think I speak my mind too much for him." He opened his arms and welcomed her into a hug. "Besides, I'd miss my favorite Maria far too much if I did." He heard her sigh contently against him and he buried his face in her dark hair.

"Alright children, save it for the cameras," Aaron minded them. "And while I'll let you do it almost wherever you damn please in this building, you know better then to do it on your boss's desk. I'm glad housing is doing a good job matching you with people you find pleasing, Alex, but don't let it distract you from your studies."

"As before BAEs," Alex chuckled. "I know, I know. So! Aaron..."

"Yes, Alex?"

He sat up a little straighter and turned inward more to face that man while Maria kept her head laid on his chest. "So listen, we all know I don't like that you can just do this, buuuuuut could you maybe look into someone for me?"

"Name?"

"I can't remember the whole thing, he rattled it off in this French accent, but I think he goes by—"

"Marie-Joseph Daveed Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette," Aaron said, already typing away at his computer and pulling up a file. "What would you like to know about him?"

"How the hell you can do that," Alex replied. Aaron didn't answer him, just gave him a smile. "Right, I don't want to know how you can do that. What can you tell me about him?"

"I can tell you everything from the day he was born to what he doing right now this very second, including the color of his underwear. What would you like to know, Alex?"

Alex sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, so, he said he checked up on me, on my Facebook, or whatever. Is he like you? Can he do what you do?"

"Negative. He's a very public person. My kind don't do that, it's dangerous. I'll spare you the details of why, of course, and while his perusal of your Facebook dinged a flag at first, nothing else came up in his systems that points to him having any knowledge of who you are or the work you do with The Company. He's a rich French socialite who is currently visiting the states on a B2-visa that will be up in June. He spends his free time traveling, dancing, or engaging in whichever activities have caught his fancy that week and he's quite colorful actually; I thought once you met him you would have liked him."

"Oh I do," Alex admitted. "It's just that he strikes me as someone who knows how to put on a facade, like us. Like, he knows more about situations then he lets on sometimes. That kind of thing."

"Ahh, I see," Aaron said. "I can have his visa revoked and get him deported by 10pm at the very latest if he makes you that nervous."

"What? No!" Alex cried, looking for a moment horrified. "Burr, don't even joke about that shit, it's not funny."

"Okay, well, it's on the table as an action I can make happen, if need be. But we'll shelve it for now. I'll keep an eye on his internet browsing in the meantime, fair?" Alex seemed reluctant to agree at first and sensing that, Aaron added, "Alex, listen. I know you don't like that I have that kind of power, but trust me when I say I only use these skills to keep you, my employee, safe. We don't want another stalker situation, now do we?"

The memory of a trashed apartment, of words like SLUT and WHORE spray painted on his bed sheets, of missing personal items and stacks of so called love letters left in every room along with the personal gift of the whack-job's various body fluids smeared over walls and into his civilian clothes made Alex shudder. He recalled the e-mails, the calls at all hours of the day and night, the text messages of pictures of him throughout the day as he was followed being sent one after another once he was home. He remembered the figure he'd seen standing outside his bedroom window when he rolled over to see what the tapping sound was. No, he never wanted to experience that again, it was violating. It made him scared to think about it. If Aaron had shown up when he had...

"No," Alex replied, dejectedly. Maria hugged him tighter. "We don't."

"Everything I do, it's only in your best interests, understand?"

"Of course."

"So then we are in agreement, I will be monitoring the Marquis de Lafayette, and at the first hint of trouble I will neutralize him from posing a threat to you."

"Just...please check in with me before you do anything drastic like that, Burr."

"Of course, baby. You can trust me." His smile eased Alex a little. He did trust Burr after all. "Now, if there's nothing else to keep you on my desk, would you two kindly make your way to Maria's studio? Your session is about to start and you wouldn't want to be late, would you? The audience would be very disappointed if you were."

Alex slid off the desk with a little self nudge. He picked up his backpack and offered Maria his arm like a gentleman. Watching them retreat, Burr pulled up a file on Alex and quickly typed in a few notes, eyeing a few cameras that monitored the studios currently in use and looking back to his computer screen exactly as a red notification popped up. He clicked on it to see what it was about and was surprised to see the name JOHN ANTHONY LAURENS at the top. The report was simple. It detailed a correlation between a reoccurring charge in John's bank statements to an A. Ramos for $69 exactly every month. An hour later, The Company would then receive payment from the same A. Ramos account. No other money coming in, no other money going out. Payments reaching as far back as ten months, when an account with The Company was made by someone using the same A. Ramos handle. It was a cleaver attempt at deceiving where the money was going, a cute little way to keep charges off a bank statement, but Burr had seen the same simple set up far too often. There was no A. Ramos, there was only John Anthony Laurens. The same John Anthony Laurens that was currently Alex's new college roommate.

And that alone posed a very.

Big.

Problem.

END CHAPTER