Alfred's interest in Arthur hadn't faded per say, but it did cool off as the days passed by without any sign of the man. Once the seed of apprehension had been planted in his mind, the need to confront his mythological ex was reduced to a mere whim. If Alfred were to pass his sentence without speaking to Arthur even once, he wouldn't be too broken hearted. At least that's what he told himself.

Now that his obsession with Arthur had been reduced, Alfred's mind was busy fumbling with the notion of prison life. He had been able to put off his brooding more or less while he had been chasing after Arthur's shadow but now that his chase was faltering, he had much more time than before to stare at the bars of his cell.

Alfred couldn't help but feel that it was all one big waste of time. He could have been finishing his university degree, applying for internships, pursuing a career. Instead, he was stuck in a building for the next few years, not very much unlike school. The only difference was that school had been a stepping stone everyone had to jump through. Prison was a complete setback.

It wasn't like he didn't know what he was doing there. Alfred had even been aware that he would be facing a sentence should he have been caught. Being aware and actually knowing the risk were two different things, though. He had thought he knew what he was gambling with, but life had proven him wrong.

He hadn't taken into account that he wouldn't be able to wake up when he wanted to. He hadn't been aware that his time outside would be carefully monitored and limited. His time just wasn't his own anymore. No privacy, no freedom of anything... even food was a problem. Alfred couldn't eat what he wanted, or even control the amount. They weren't starving him, of course, but Alfred sure would have liked an extra piece of chocolate cake.

The lack of productivity was what drove Alfred off the wall the most. There was nothing he could do about it, though, or about his cramped muscles screaming for a good run. His only outlet were the people around him. He never would have associated with them in the past, but beggars couldn't be choosers. The more he got to know them, however, the more Alfred realized that they weren't the monsters he had thought they would be.

Well, most of them.

Alfred was slowly learning how prison life worked. It wasn't a complicated system, but it was built almost completely on territorialism and pride. Not unlike high school, really. It was all about who you knew and how others perceived you. One had to be careful who he was aligning himself with. On the other hand, if you didn't have someone looking out for you, you would be an easy target.

If there was one thing Alfred was good at, it was at making friends. Not everyone wanted to be his friend, though. The groups in prison were strictly divided by race, and groups didn't usually socialize with one another. There were exceptions, however.

Alfred found himself engulfed in a small group of cheerful young men who enjoyed laughing just as much as he did. They were a mostly Latin American group, but after Alfred had been bunked with Antonio he hadn't had too much of a problem joining them. There had been raised brows at first, but soon enough Alfred had become a familiar face.

With their help, he learned in which line to stand if you wanted to get extra meat balls with your pasta. He learned who to ask for a set of cards and what brand of cigarettes to give him in return. He learned who to avoid and who to nod at when he walked in the hall. Alfred was even taught in which stall to shower in to get the strongest flow.

And that is where Alfred was now, facing the wall and closing his eyes. The warm water felt good cascading over his head and down his back. He had an easy time getting used to the public showers- the high school locker room had taken care of that. Alfred surmised that as long as he didn't have anything to hide or to be ashamed of, he didn't care who glanced as people walked past him.

All too soon the water was shut off and the order to finish up echoed against the walls. Alfred sighed and turned around, heading for the towel stack next to the door. As he stood in line he could hear whispering but didn't pay any attention to it- it wasn't smart to meet someone's gaze in the shower.

Some of the men there had a short fuse and could easily be provoked. An innocent look might be interpreted as a leer. A fight would probably ensue and Alfred wasn't keen on losing his scant privileges.

He dutifully took the towel that was handed to him and followed the rest of the inmates to the locker room, wrapping it around his waist as he walked. His clothing were where he had left them, thankfully, and dry as well. If he had made an enemy, his underwear would have been stolen or shredded. Antonio had shared with him enough horror stories to keep Alfred in line when he wasn't with him.

"...No Gareth, twenty will not be enough. You'll have to find some other way to come up with the money by Wednesday. This is already the second time I've granted you a delay and there won't be a third. Ivan here will be happy to help you cough it up if you have any trouble, won't you, Ivan?"

Alfred's fingers stilled over the buttons of his jumpsuit. Despite what Antonio had said about minding his own business, Alfred couldn't help but turn his head ever so slightly in the direction of the accented voice.

Across the room to his right stood three men. One man, assumingly Gareth, was hounded against the bench, still in his underwear. His pale face was doing its best not to betray his discomfort but was doing a terrible job at it. In front of him were two other men, both blond. Alfred could only see their back, but he could easily recall the face of the shorter of the two.

The taller man, Ivan, was leaning toward the cornered man, whispering something in his ear. If possible, Gareth's face paled even further. He met the shorter man's eyes and nodded mutely.

The man straightened his shoulders. "Very good. I'm glad we have reached an understanding. Until Wednesday, then. Come along, Ivan."

The two men turned and started to make their way toward the exit. Alfred quickly diverted his eyes and lowered them to the ground, but wasn't fast enough. The short man had caught his gaze and narrowed his own eyes at him. He stopped a few steps away from him.

"Do you find something entertaining?" he snapped, signaling for Ivan to stop as well.

Alfred felt his hands go numb. Shit.

"Sorry," he mumbled and turned away from them, gathering his towel and soap into his arms. Before he could make a quick exit, he was pushed to the wall and his belongings fell to the ground. The bench pushed against the back of his calves painfully.

The taller man, Ivan, was smiling at him glacially and pinning his wrists over his head. The other blond stepped forward and frowned.

"What was that? It's rude to mutter, you know. Your mother should have taught you some manners."

Without thinking it through, Alfred lifted his head and met the other's eyes squarely over Ivan's shoulders. "At least I have a mother, Arthur."

Arthur's eyes narrowed before they widened in shock.

"Alfred?"

When he didn't answer, Arthur ordered Ivan to back off. The bulky man released Alfred's wrists and took a step back, not without looking between the two other men in mild confusion. Alfred, in return, pushed himself from against the wall and bent down to collect his scattered items.

Arthur wouldn't let him go so easily, though. He and Ivan still blocked his path.

"What are you doing here, Alfred?" Arthur insisted, more bewildered than anything else. Alfred's presence had apparently caught him off guard. He kept looking Alfred over, frowning and deepening the crease between his brows.

"What is anyone doing here? I have a sentence to serve."

Arthur shook his head. "That's not what I meant. What happened? What are you in for?"

"Drugs," Alfred said curtly, making a move to leave. "Illegal possession. Can I go, now?"

The two men wouldn't budge.

"But why? The Alfred I knew wouldn't break the law like that. What were you thinking?"

Alfred bristled. "Well, the Arthur I knew wouldn't cheat on me with some fucking drunk at a party, but I guess we were both proved wrong, weren't we?"

Alfred could almost physically feel the heavy silence which followed. Arthur looked at him for a long moment, a flicker of anger crossing his face before he pursed his lips and stepped back.

"Get out," he said quietly.

Alfred didn't need to be told twice. He squared his shoulders and walked toward the exit, refusing to look back.

He had a feeling that the next time they crossed each other, he wouldn't get out of it as easily.