Problems

|| Chapter 19 ||

TW: panic attack, dissociating, brief mention of past sexual abuse, drinking, physical attack
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Alex was numb when he went into his last midterms, and didn't stop even as he was stepping out of the English wing, walking down the sidewalk crusted in frost and bits of ice. He stepped around a chunk of snow that had strayed into the middle of the path, letting his legs carry him back to the dorms, not thinking about anything.

Earbuds were stuck in his ears, pumping rap music as he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his thigh in time to the beat, slightly bobbing his head.

My hoodie over my face, so nobody can see me

I'm on a plane, 'bout to fly again

Looking out the window, take a moment to admire it

Wondering how high it is, wonder where the time has went

Then I shut the window and go back to feeling like I'm out my mind again

He shut the door to his room, dumping his bag on the floor next to his bed and grabbing his journal. He didn't feel like writing on his laptop-he wanted to feel something physical, feel the pen scratching at paper.

Alex put a few pieces of lettuce in Charlemange's terrarium, then shut the door and walked back down the three sets of stairs and out onto the sidewalk, taking the side path that would lead him to the park. It took longer to get there on foot, but it was worth it.

You left me falling and landing inside my grave

I know that you want me dead

I take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay

I know it's all in my head

It took about fifteen minutes, but he was there, sitting against the railing of the bridge, his pen flying over a page as water crashed down in the background.

Alex sat there for almost an hour, until his hands had flecks of ink and were stiff in his gloves from the cold, until his playlist had looped almost twice. His phone buzzed in his pocket, a text from John that was asking where he was. He pulled off his gloves, then shot back a reply telling him that he'd be back soon.

He stood up, wincing as pins and needles tingled up and down his legs, side effects of sitting in the same position for too long. It was a warmer year temperature-wise, almost forty degrees, and since Alex usually dressed like he was in the Arctic, he was almost warm enough.

More snow and ice crunched as he walked back to the college on the well-trodden path, his breath clearly visible in the air. It would probably hit a low in the twenties, which meant his room would be cold even without an icy John in there to freeze everything out.

How do you picture me?

Want me to smile, you want me to laugh

You want me to walk in the stage with a smile on my face

When I'm mad and put on a mask, for real though

I mean, what you expect from me?

When he opened the door for the second time that day, Hercules and Lafayette were already there, lounging on John's bed and Alex's desk chair while John sat at his desk, legs crossed up on the seat.

Alex pulled out his earbuds and wrapped them up, tossing them onto his laptop before shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the back of the door.

"You want to come out with us?" Herc said, breaking the silence, and Alex shrugged. "Where to?"

"Bar," John replied hopefully, and Alex flipped the idea over in his head. He didn't want to be alone in his room, but he also didn't want to go out in public.