[From: Macaroni Man
[From: Macaroni Man
I gave you direct orders last time not to take them all at once.
You did it anyway.]
[From: Mad Hatter
'tell on you'
what are you?
[From: Macaroni Man
I refuse to aid and embed your self-destruction.
you narcissistic twat.]
Alexander was vibrating.
From anger, because despite what Thomas-fucking-Jefferson thought, he did not have a problem. If anything, Jefferson should have been happy with all the business that Alexander brought in. Grateful for the fact that Alexander didn't bother finding another drug dealer, one who didn't try and limit his use, after all, there had to be plenty of others on campus who would take his money.
Except there weren't. The campus seemed to be infected with this breed of 'ethical' drug dealers, many of which refused Alexander on the principle. Everyone knew he was writing papers for cash, and with his too thin figure and the fact that it was rare to see him consuming anything other than caffeine, everywhere he turned around he was getting pressure to get clean and spend the money on food instead. They didn't understand that for Alex to have money he needed to keep writing, and to keep writing at the speed that he was, he had to have uppers. He wasn't even particularly picky about which ones. The only thing he hadn't tried yet was Heroin and coke, whether because of the cost or the possible side effects even Hamilton wasn't sure.
Alexander hadn't set out to do this many drugs. But he was a scholarship kid, and it had started out as small favors. Writing papers for an upper classman named Lafayette in return for food, mostly. And then word had gotten out and he'd gained other 'clients' and it was too complicated to try and just go with them at meal times, so everyone paid up front. Cash. And that had been fine too, until one day he'd gotten more orders than he could take. Jefferson had approached him in need of a history paper and Alex had snapped. At the time it had seemed like fate, because instead of getting pissed, Jefferson offered a simple exchange. Pills for papers, pills for cash, whatever it was that he needed to keep going. And sure, soon after he might have stopped eating as much, and sure, he rarely slept but Alex was fine. Still keeping up with his own work on top of everyone else's, even still attending his classes. Up until now, Jefferson hadn't cared, in fact, Alex was almost positive that he still didn't care about Alex's health, no matter how much he framed it that way. No, Jefferson was spooked at the possibility of an overdose getting him exposed.
As if Alexander would overdose. He was too careful for that, he just had a higher tolerance than everyone else- that was all. And despite whatever it was that Madison had told Thomas, he hadn't taken all of the pills at once. Even he wasn't stupid enough to use the rest of his stash all at once. Alex fired off a text, and then another, and when it appeared that Thomas was done responding for the evening, Alex grabbed his coat.
Madison lived in a dorm nearby, and if the man couldn't be talked sense into regarding continuing to be his supplier, the least he could do was give Alex a smaller amount to tide him over until he found another dealer. Not that Alex would frame it that way, he was already formulating his speech about being willing to get clean in his head, working the various angles, trying to find the one that would make Madison most sympathetic to his plight. And if not sympathetic, worried that Alex's withdrawals would bring just as much attention as a possible overdose might.
The night air should have been cold, but Alex couldn't find it in himself to actually notice as he banged on the dorm's glass door. Thankfully the RA on duty was one of the Schuyler sisters, Peggy if he remembered correctly, and while she wasn't the fondest of him, she still let him in with only a minor fuss, demanding that he tell Laurens to let him next time. Alexander smiled charmingly, making his promises and knowing all the same that he wouldn't. Laurens had specifically banned him from this building, once he realized which room he was stopping in after their chats. Which was frankly hypocritical, Alexander thought, considering some of John's extracurricular activities. Drugs or fighting, both brought a rush and both of them had their necks on the line with what they did in their free time. Laurens couldn't flaunt some moral superiority just because his wasn't illegal, especially considering he was more likely to end up in the hospital that Alex was.
James Madison lived on the third floor, and Alex quickly made his way to the stairs, darting up them with the assumption that at least this would be a way to burn off some of his excess energy, and lower his chances of being seen by his friend. Besides, it meant he could hide the shakes from earlier in the panting, even as he beat on Madison's door. If that bastard thought that Alex was going to go away just because wasn't answered immediately, then he had something else coming to him. Alexander could clearly hear someone moving around in the room, which only made him beat harder, almost falling forward when the door finally did happen.
Except it wasn't James that opened the door, but Aaron Burr, looking thoroughly unamused as Alexander took the opportunity to force his way into the room, still intent on trying to find Madison so that he could get his next fix. He was all the way inside by the time he realized that the other man wasn't simply sitting on the bed or in a previously unseen corner.
"Shit, Burr, where the fuck is he?" It wasn't his most eloquent statement, but it wasn't as if Burr could still be operating under delusions about what kind of man he's living with, and as such, what Alex was after.
Aaron's answer was a clipped, "With Jefferson, at his house."
At least it was an answer, Alex turned to start towards the door, muttering under his breath as he did, "Alright.... Jefferson lives on Monticello street. got it. Just gotta go there then."
Alexander was stopped when the door shut with a definitive click, and he gave Burr a bewildered look as the man leaned against it, "Do you even know where Monticello is? And how are you going to get there?"
It was a ridiculous question, and Alex rubbed at his arms, finding it hard to think past the sound of his own heart drumming in his ears, "I'll walk."
Burr still didn't move, looking more and more displeased as the moment stretched on, "You're barefoot. You even notice that or are you too strung out? Sit down while I text James and try to figure out what to do with you."
"Do with me?" It was an indignant snarl, tinged with panic.
Burr watched him, eyes flickering towards Alex's hands and he can't help but wonder if Aaron was worried he might take a swing at him in order to get out, or if he was just lost in thought, trying to remember something, "Your RA would be... Hercules Mulligan- am I right? You aren't fit to be walking around right now. You can sit down while I think or I can just call him."
it wasn't fair, none of it was fair, and still, Alex sat.