Chapter Text
The thing about Fogado is that he can't just abandon a buddy in need.
It starts like this. Since his senior year in high school, Fogado's known he was going to leave his hometown for college. It's not that he doesn't like his hometown - far from it - but the world's a big place, and he wants to see more of what it has to offer. He still takes a gap year, a privilege he knows he's lucky to have, and travels around for a bit.
It makes a really good university essay. Especially when you're someone like Fogado, able to spin tales of derring-do and volunteering across multiple countries. The world of universities becomes his oyster.
Fogado has a dartboard in his room, a memory of an abandoned hobby. He strings up the names of his top five picks, closes his eyes, and tosses the dart.
..and that's how he's ended up here, or, well, close-enough to it.
His phone sits balanced precariously upon his knee, and the end of a pencil is held between his lips. He had been working on homework, but what's on his phone is much, much more important.
[Al]
I apologize.. Such a wretch as me shouldn't dare to bother you.
[Me]
its all good man. ik it wont get thru 2 u rn but can u tell me whats getting u?
[Me]
i thought u were going 2 a party?
[Al]
Ahhhh… yes, yes, I was, but thendf there weere msjwm.-
[Me]
are you ok??
[Al]
I dropped my phone, I'm sorry… you shouldn't worry about someone like me. Even texting you, I can't help but mess up.
[Al]
Um. There are… a lot of women here who seem… interested in me. I wanted to try to “get out of my shell”, as you suggested, but I've failed at even that.
[Al]
I'm hiding in an upstairs bedroom right now. Pathetic, isn't it? I truly am…
That's the sentence where Fogado stops reading. Instead, he shoves his phone into his pocket and stands from the bed, homework left aside. He grabs a jacket from by the door - striped and a bit too-heavy, but the early spring chill is insurmountable to him who is used to the heat - and after double checking for his keys in his pocket, heads out of the dorm room.
His steps are urgent, purposeful, but he still whistles as he walks. He shouldn't have encouraged this, and he knows it now, but he'd thought with some people Alcryst knows being there it'd work out okay. Foresight has failed him, it seems.
The elevator feels too slow, so he shoves his way into the staircase and takes the steps two at a time.
Thankfully, he knows the address. He better know, considering it was his idea. The campus feels far too long - why didn't he grab his bike? - and to get to the outskirts populated by townhomes and drunk teenagers takes even longer.
Finally, finally, the street address flickers at him in the night, curved golden numbers upon the front door of an unassuming brownstone - 419.
He doesn't knock. He doesn't expect anyone to care - and he's right. All he gets are greetings. One person offers him a high-five, which he takes with a grin, before climbing upstairs.
He opens the first door on his right, and - nope, definitely not Alcryst. He pulls it shut before the couple half-undressed can yell at him. On to the second. Empty. The third is locked - he guesses a bathroom. The fourth, and he finds his prize.
Alcryst, slumped over his phone, all but jumps out of his skin when the door opens. Fogado closes it carefully behind him, a quiet motion he's learned after rooming with Alcryst for half a year, and crosses the room to perch on the end of the bed beside him.
“Hey,” he offers, and it's pretty lame. He clears his throat, and tries again. “Sorry, I should've at least come with you.”
Alcryst looks up at him and blinks with red-rimmed eyes. Had he been crying? It pierces Fogado through his chest, sharper than any blade. A hand rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly.
Alcryst's mouth opens, and then closes. And then opens. And then closes.
“You shouldn't apologize to me!”
Ah, there he goes. At least it's what Fogado expects - this, too, is something he's learned. He's actually pretty impressed at how long it took Alcryst to apologize.
They've been working on it.
“It’s my fault for being unable to handle even a simple interaction. I'm just unsuited to making friends - which is fine, because they deserve far better than miserable dirt like me, and -”
“Do you want to go home?”
Alcryst blinks at having been interrupted. Fogado doesn't like to, but sometimes, if Alcryst doesn't get cut off, he’ll go for hours. A small nod.
“‘kay, good. Let's blow this popsicle stand.”
He offers a hand - mostly playful - but he's not upset when Alcryst takes it. Instead, he swings their clasped hands together, leading Alcryst downstairs.
(Their hands stay clasped, under those pooling streetlights and those twinkling stars, until they return to the dorm.)
When Fogado wakes up the next morning, he's alone in his room, and his phone is buzzing like a damn fly.
He's alone because Alcryst is some sort of madman who thinks an eight a.m class is reasonable, but as for his phone, he's pretty sure he didn't do anything insane. Right? Nothing recent comes to mind.
He opens the message at the top.
[Citi Bank]
What are your intentions with my cousin?
[image attached] (A picture of Alcryst and Fogado holding hands as they leave the party.)
[Me]
oh
[Me]
oh shit
[Me]
plz tell me this is not what all 36 unread msgs on my phone r about 🙏🏾
[Citi Bank]
Probably not.
(They are not, in fact, about said picture. 30 of them alone come from Alcryst, giving increasingly winding apologies. Another 3 is a classmate asking for homework, and the last 3 are texts from Timerra. Whew.)
[Me]
morning alcryst
[Me]
lmk when ure on ur way back
[Al]
Good morning, Fogado.
[Al]
I know I’m running late. I can’t apologize enough. The girl from yesterday was at my class, and I panicked. I don’t understand why she wishes to be seen with the dirt on the bottom of someone’s shoe!
[Me]
its okay, im not mad
[Me]
but i have an a+ idea 2 help w ur girl problem
[Me]
citrinne sent me a photo of us holding hands u see
[Al]
Oh, I should have never accepted. Now I’m going to tarnish your reputation! In such a picture, I can only imagine how hideous I look beside your brilliance.
[Me]
give me a sec to pitch this
[Me]
if ppl think we might be dating u can say we r
[Me]
n she might leave u alone
[Al]
I could never!!!
[Al]
Please, Fogado, don’t mess with me. I know I do not deserve kindness, but such cruelty..!
[Me]
? its fine
[Me]
i know its hard 4 u to get. but i think itd help. and i think it could b kinda fun
[Me]
like in the movies!!!
[Me]
but fogado serious pants time. ur a good friend, and i like u a lot. so i wanna help u out, kay?
[Al]
I like you too.
[Al]
Wait, that is - can I delete text messages? I shouldn’t... Ah.
[Al]
..er, that is. Do you think. It would help?
[Me]
cant hurt to try, right?
Surely nothing bad can possibly come of this.