Chapter Text
Alex always feels more comfortable when in the air. Whether swinging through Manhattan or finishing a paper on the roof last minute. It’s calming, the busy streets seemingly muted and far away.
This leads to Alexander’s current predicament: College Orientation. Hundreds of barely legal, horny, freshly adult, 18 and 19 year olds.
Disgusting. Loud. And hungover.
Nothing can be done for the noise, not even his cheap yet useful noise-canceling headphones help. This is the worst day of his life. Yes, he almost died while fighting Green Goblin. This is worse.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Alex looked over at his brother, who was looking back at him, his face filled with concern.
“I am going to die.” Alex responded.
“Well, how’s that for a sunny disposition?”
“You’ll be ok.” A hand is placed on Alexander’s shoulder, it’s his dad. “It’s just another chapter in your life.”
“Stop lecturing him,” His mother muttered to his father.
Alex’s brother butted in, “Yeah don’t be such an old man, old man.”
Actually, Alex wants to revoke his earlier statement. The worst day of his life was when he met the Washingtons. Not because of them, really, it was their son. Gilbert Lafayette. Asshole extraordinaire. Never call him Gilbert to his face. Alex made that mistake.
His dad began talking, interrupting his inner monologue. “We’ll be in the car, let us know when you get your dorm info.”
Alex wistfully watched his family walk back to the car. Great. And now he’s alone.
“Get your dorm building and number here!” Right. The reason he was here. ‘ Stop being emo and cringey, Alex . Talk to people .’ Shut up, Lafayette. Get out of my head. Ugh.
“A through M to the left! N to Z to the right!”
Alex walked towards the yelling, and spotted the pull up tables and chairs set up. The massive sign, ‘ WELCOME FRESHMAN’.
UGH.
“Are you here to get your dorm info?” A woman asked.
“Uh yeah,” he responded. She smiled, clearly tired from doing this all day.
“Great! My name is Angelica. This is my third year here, and if you have any questions, feel free to find me. So, what’s your name?” She spoke clearly, and obviously rehearsed.
“Uhm, it’s Alex, Alexander Hamilton.” He tried to give a smile, but based on the slightly confused face she gave, it probably didn’t look good.
She – Angelica – Alex reminded himself, began flipping through the list of papers that held the name of the oncoming students. Angelica stopped once she met his name.
“Alright! You’ll be in Mastronardi Hall, room number 776. It seems your dorm-mate has already gone through here and should be set up in the room by now.”
UGH.
Great. He got here last.
Angelica – bless her – gave Alex his room key.
— — — —
Alex and his family finally made it to Mastronardi Hall. It was a bit of a train wreck to reach, considering all members of the family were given different directions of how to get there, and Alex, being the one actually going to the school, was given none.
Why are there so many freaking stairs? Alex was mad, no, mad is an understatement. Although nothing bad has actually happened, he decided to still be a whiny bitch. Hey, me, stop complaining for once? Alex replied back to himself, nope.
His father was carrying the most boxes of the four.
“We’re almost there boys!”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, my lovely wife whom I love very much.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They finally reach the dorm and Alex puts down his boxes to unlock the door. As he unlocks the door, George gets a phone call. He puts down his own boxes and pulls out the phone. George gives the phone a look after seeing the caller ID and gives a look to Martha.
“Sorry boys, I need to step out for a moment.” Alex and Lafeyette hum and George walks away with a sigh as he puts the phone to his ear.
Alex opens the door to the room he’ll be living in for the next several months. It was small, two beds, a desk on the ends of each bed, two closets. It’s obvious his roommate has already decorated the dorm for themselves, as if unaware they’ll be sharing the room with another person.
The one thing that sticks out the most is a large tapestry hung on the walls. It’s pink and states, ‘Mojo Dojo Casa House’ in what looks like the font from the Barbie movie. And a picture of Ryan Gosling as Ken, framed on his desk.
Oh no. A frat boy. Even worse. One trying to be funny.
“Your new roommate seems like an interesting character!” Martha, God bless her soul, states.
“Yeah, if you’re also a straight white guy,” he rolled his eyes, “This is gonna be the worst.” This guy won’t be able to handle my cuntiness, Alex thought to himself.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, said roommate enters the dorm.
“Just straight then,” Lafayette stated, clearly unempathetic to the amount of embarrassment emanating off of Alex.
George suddenly pops his head through the door as well, also embarrassed but for unknown reasons, “Found your roommate!”
“Clearly,” Alex stated.
“I’m John...” Straight guy said, obviously uncomfortable with the amount of people in such a small space. And maybe a few other things.
The silence stretches for a few seconds before Martha breaks it, “Alex, this is where you introduce yourself.”
“Oh, right,” he paused, “I’m Alex.”
‘John’ held out his hand for Alex to shake. He did not take it.
He slowly brought his hand back and chuckled uncomfortably. Martha and George give each other a look. Lafayette is frantically texting someone on his phone, likely talking shit.
“I think this is where we take our leave!” Martha exclaimed. She grabbed George and Lafayette by the arms, startling the both of them, and walked out of the room.
Fucking fantastic. Betrayed by my own (adopted) blood.
“I’m not straight by the way!” John exclaimed, as if being considered straight was a crime. (It is).
“Right. Because I definitely care about that,” Alex deadpanned. He began thinking of what to have for dinner, as he moved the boxes to his side of the room.
“So… Where are you from?” John asked.
“Here,” He began opening boxes. First the one with the bed sheets, and placed the contents on his twin sized bed.
John continued with his questions, “Cool, cool, I’m from South Carolina.”
“Cool.”
Should I have chicken curry for dinner? Or pizza?
He starts on making the bed. He knew how to do this. It’s easy. He grabs one end of the fitted sheet and attaches it over the mattress, and under. Step one, completed. He grabs the next closest corner and does the same as the first. Step two, done.
Now for the hardest part. He grabs the farther corner of the fitted sheet and goes to do the same as the other corners. The first corner detaches from the mattress just as he finishes placing the third.
UGH . You got this Alex. It’s just a fitted sheet.
He goes back to the first corner, and attempts – key word: attempts – to fix the corner.
After what seems to be the millionth try (i.e.: Third) John interrupts.
“Do you need help with those?”
“No,” Alex lies.
When he gives up on making the bed, Alex moves to the next box: his study materials. He places the items in the box on the desk, randomly organizing them into his personal arrangement. John watches, confused.
Chicken curry sounds good. But where?
After it seems Alex has finished his desk arrangement, John asks, “You hungry? We could grab a bite and get to know each other?” He seems nervous.
Alex thought to himself for a moment. He was hungry.
“Sure,” Alex shrugs.
“Perfect! You in the mood for anything specific?”
“Chicken curry.”
John lit up, “oh! I’ve never had that before!”
Alex gives him a bemused expression before answering, “excuse me?”
“Yeah, there are no specifically Indian places in my hometown, so I’m here to try new things I might’ve been sheltered from,” John chuckled.
“Oh,” Alex is no longer giving him a dirty look, “well, I'll cure you.”
“Uhm, okay?”
— — — —
“So then Batman–”
The waitress comes by and gives Alex his chicken curry. The one thing he wanted from this entire interaction.
Finally, this John guy is kinda weird. Kinda hot, but mostly weird.
“So, why do you have a framed picture of Ryan Gosling on your desk?”
John pauses for a moment before asking, “why don’t you have a framed picture of Ryan Gosling on your desk?”
“I’m more curious as to why it’s framed over pictures of your, ya’know, family?”
“Why don’t you have any pictures of your family?”
This guy is starting to really annoy me. I take back any moments of attraction.
“Because I call them. Often.” Alex takes a bite of his food and continues, “and they live just a few blocks down south.”
“Oh. Speaking of family, what’s up with your dad-” John is cut off by the waitress bringing in his food. And Alex clearly too into his meal to notice.
“What was that?” Alex looked up.
John, now entranced by the meal in front of him, “huh?”
“Nothing,”
John takes a giant bite of his chicken curry, rice falling from his fork without a care in the world. He chomps with his mouth open, forgetting the food is still hot.
Alex looks disgusted, “please close your mouth.”
John continues his chomping and hot breathing. “S’hot.”
“Yeah, that’s why I waited to eat,” Alex rolls his eyes.
John flips him the bird.
Alex chuckles, “that’s funny.”
John gives him a confused look.
“You flipped me the bird. We’re eating bird.” Alex looks proud of himself.
John immediately starts laughing, like Alex is a stand-up comedian. Alex joins in. John is suddenly laughing so immensely he begins to choke. He coughs a few times to get the chicken (the bird) out of his throat.
Ego: boosted.