Alex Faulkner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
videokilledme) wrote2018-07-22 07:18 pm
videokilledme) wrote2018-07-22 07:18 pm
“And The Rest Is (World) History.” Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Fourteen
~
"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Fourteen
[A/N: I suuuuper hate whole the “friendzoned” thing, and so does Alex...but here’s a song for the garbage guy who calls in to Connor’s show: ugh.]
“Heeeey, Alex! WHAT UP, you look like shit!”
Alex gritted his teeth, closing his eyes and willing away the knee-jerk wave of irritation that always washed over him whenever he heard that voice.
“Connor,” he said in response, clipped and clearly not welcoming, but the handsome Asian student just as clearly ignored Alex’s tone and dropped into the seat next to him anyway.
Through random happenstance (or more likely Connor’s zero-chill stalking), they’d ended up in the same winter inter-term class, PHIL 2702, Popular Music and Philosophy.
“So! What’s the special occasion?” Connor asked with a salacious grin, stretching his long legs out and slumping down until his shoulders were level with Alex’s. “You’re not exactly ‘fix-y,’ but you’re still usually pretty well put-together--the ‘rumpled’ look really isn’t ‘you’--so there’s gotta be some kinda reason for...hey!” He’d been watching Alex’s face, and when he saw a tinge of pink color the other student’s cheeks, he suddenly sat up straighter, an almost deranged gleam of interest in his dark eyes. “Ho-oooohhhh-ly shit, did you actually stay over with a girl somewhere? Is this your walk of shame look? Who--oh, oh no, no way, was it Bianca? Did you actually spend the night with Bianca Jackson?”
“Shut UP!” Alex hissed, his whole face flushing guilty crimson, which was all the confirmation that Connor needed to break into a wide, toothy grin. “Look, that’s not what-”
But Connor wasn’t listening; he was too busy slapping Alex on the back and crowing about it all loudly enough that the people in the chairs around them were turning curious or skeptical looks their way. “HELL YEAH, bruh! The Jackson Challenge has been CONQUERED at long last! So how was it? How was she? C’mon, you gotta tell me aaaall about-”
“STOP,” Alex ground out, low and furious enough that Connor actually did stop, checking himself mid back-slap, though it was only a brief pause, a startled blink followed by an understanding grin.
“Heh, ahhh, I getcha, not the sort to kiss and tell, huh? What a proper gentleman-”
“I didn’t sleep with her!” Alex finally snarled, his face flushing so dark that his freckles disappeared in the crimson rush of embarrassment. He shot a dark scowl around the immediate area, and no less than half a dozen people quickly looked away and busied themselves with their phones or something in their bags. “We were hanging out last night and the weather was terrible, so I crashed on a futon on her floor. We watched some Nextflik. We talked. That’s it. Sorry to get your hopes up or whatever--which is really weird and kinda creepy, by the way--but that’s all that happened.”
It felt a little wrong, referring to the starkly honest heart-to-heart soul-baring conversation they’d had as ‘all that happened,’ but Alex didn’t want Connor to know any more about his friendship with Bianca and the invaluable time they spent together than he had to. And, in Alex’s opinion, the older student didn’t really have to know anything about it at all.
“So, wait, wait. Wait. You’re saying that you spent the night in a girl’s room--the drop-dead gorgeous girl who you’re head-over-heels in love with, and would give anything to have her look at you like-”
“Connor.”
Connor held up his hands placatingly, though it did precious little to dull the sharpness of the glare Alex was shooting his way. “Loooook, I’m just sayin’...you spent the night lying three feet away from the girl of your dreams, and you didn’t make any kind of move? That’s pretty weak, man.”
Impossibly, Alex’s expression darkened even further. “And exactly what kind of ‘move’ should I have made on my sleeping best friend, who trusted me enough to let me stay in her room with her?”
The dark-haired senior gave a bubbling snort of laughter. “If you don’t know that, you’re more of a lost cause than I thought.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I mean, hell, man, if you’re that far behind the curve, I don’t know if even I can help you...still, I’ll give it a try. You see, when two people love each other very much, or are just attracted to each other’s bangin’ hot bodies-”
“Fuck off, Connor.”
“Ohhhh, so you DO know what kinda move you should’ve made! Hey, look, I’m not saying you should’ve forced yourself on her or anything, that’s not a good time for anyone. I’m just saying that once you’re already in someone’s room, it’s generally a looot easier to seal the deal...” Connor leaned in closer, his eyelids lowering over a gaze smouldering with wicked intent and dark promises, his voice dropping to a husky, seductive croon. “...If you know how to go about it properly, I mean...”
Alex didn’t so much as bat an eye in the face of that flirtatious invitation, his only response an extremely judgmental raised eyebrow paired with a blasé eye-roll as he tilted his head away, maintaining the previous space between them.
That wasn’t enough to stop Connor from pushing the issue further, though. “Hey, I’m already teaching you how to be more social-”
“I figured that out on my own, without your help, thanks.”
“-And you’re a good-lookin’ guy, a pretty-boy, even. So if you ever want some lessons...”
Gross, was Alex’s first thought. As if I’d want those kind of lessons from a sleazy guy like this. Still, part of him wondered idly just what Connor had meant by that--probably nothing serious, hopefully nothing serious, he was annoying enough as it was already when he was just joking around--but Alex didn’t care enough to want to ask. With a disgusted sigh and another roll of his eyes, he turned to face the front of the room, where the professor was calling the class to order.
“Sooooo...is that a yes?”
“Hey, Connor.”
“Yo!”
“You ever hear that old classic, about pulling your lip up over your head and swallowing?”
“...Point taken.”
The rest of the class passed with nothing but merciful silence from Connor; he didn’t so much as cough or click his pen the whole time. From what Alex could tell, the senior just didn’t seem inclined to put on a show and be obnoxious in this class like he had in World History (he’d apparently had some sort of nonsensical, one-sided rivalry going on with Dr. Pace, so that was probably the reason for that), and it wasn’t until the class had been dismissed that Connor spoke up again.
“So, I actually have another kind of offer for y--hey wait, come back! Alex!”
No longer trapped by the need to stay for class, Alex had slung his messenger bag across his chest and headed for the door before Connor could even finish his sentence.
“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” he called back over his right shoulder, only to turn around and find Connor already walking alongside him on his left.
“This isn’t anything about the stuff I was talking about before, this is actually serious. C’mon, just hear me out, I promise you’ll be interested! You’re a Communications major just like me, right? So...have you decided what you’re gonna do with your degree?”
Alex didn’t stop walking, but he didn’t speed up either, and he didn’t try to lose the other student in the (much smaller) after-class crowds. He just angled a sideways look up and over at Connor that said, you have thirty seconds before I tell you to get lost, better make them count.
Connor got the message, because he went almost completely serious. “So, I dunno if you knew this, but I have a radio program on the campus radio station.”
“Didn’t know. Not sure I care.”
“That!” Grinning from ear to ear, Connor pointed straight at Alex. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about! See, I have a call-in dedication show, where people can talk about the people they love and dedicate songs to them, and when they’ve got issues, I offer love advice on the side. ‘Dr. Connor, Captain of the Love Corp’!”
“If that’s your for-real on-air name, that is really terrible,” Alex said with a fake sort of brightness, and Connor just grinned even wider.
“Every now and then I have guests join me in the studio. Usually it’s someone big on campus, if Dr. de Forest or I can convince ‘em, but sometimes it’s just a random Communications student. And you, with all your sarcasm and sick burns, would be the perfect choice to guest star on my show.”
It was actually an interesting proposition, Alex was a little surprised to realize. He hadn’t really considered radio much before, at least not talk radio, but seeing what it was like wasn’t a bad idea at all. In fact, it was actually a very good opportunity...though something about it still seemed a little suspicious.
“...When?”
“Hmm?”
“When do you want me on your show?”
Connor’s grin didn’t falter, but his body language told another story, everything about how he held himself suddenly going shifty and avoidant. “...Uh...tonight?”
And there it was.
“Your actual guest cancelled on you last-minute, huh. Who was it?”
The truth was out, so Connor’s smile slid off his face, revealing just about the most irritated-looking frown Alex had ever seen from him. “Eh, the asshole captain of the football team. No great loss, the guy’s been on before and can hardly string a complete sentence together. People still listened, though, and called and emailed to ask for him to come back some time, because he said some really impressively dumb shit.”
“Mm, coming from you, that is impressive.”
Connor’s grin returned full-force as he pressed a hand to his chest. “God, man, you gotta stop doing that! My heart can’t take it!”
“Soooo you don’t want me on your show tonight? And here I was ready to say yes.”
“Ohmygod, will you really?” Connor threw himself at Alex, long arms and one leg wrapping around him tighter than an over-excited octopus, making the smaller student sway dangerously to the side, only just managing to recover his balance in the face of all that sudden momentum. “I’d seriously owe you one, man!”
“Great. You can start paying me back,” Alex said with another falsely-bright smile, “by not hugging me like that ever again.” With surprisingly little difficulty, especially considering the difference between their respective heights and weights, he managed to wrench himself free of Connor’s over-eager embrace and took three quick steps back and away. “You’re lucky that I’m not working tonight, though I think Keiji would’ve let me off for something like this. Anyway, just tell me what time you need me and where to go, and I’ll be there.”
Connor bounced on the balls of his feet, almost vibrating in place and looking like Christmas had come again already even though it wasn’t even a month out the door. “ThankyouuuuuuuuuthankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!” he gushed, moving to tackle Alex for another hug, then catching himself and offering a not-quite-apologetic lopsided grin. “My show starts at 10:00 and runs past midnight, depending on how many callers and requests I get! We can go longer if we want, the girl who ran the show after mine graduated at the end of December--super bright chick, that one, though not very friendly for some reason. Anyway! Be in the radio station lobby by 9:30 at the latest, though 9:00 would probably be best. Dr. de Forest wanted to have a little chat with you first, I think, to go over some basic rules ‘n’ shit. But yeah, see you then!”
Interesting as the offer had been, Alex was already starting to regret it a little, if only because of Connor. He also wasn’t sure how he’d do talking to a bunch of strangers over the phone...but then again, maybe the fact that they couldn’t see him would make it less nerve-wracking.
I guess I’ll find out tonight, he thought to himself as he absently waved goodbye to Connor, one way or another.
The Carrington radio station was a standalone building, within sight of the library, the Robin Goodfellow Theatre, and Maury Hall, the building that housed most of the Music/Communications classes and professors’ offices. It had an angular, very Contemporary look, made entirely of white-painted metal and glass, with (of course) a huge broadcast transmitter on the roof. The entire first floor was recording studios of various sizes, two single-person unisex bathrooms, the front office/reception area, and the station break room. The second floor held the main broadcasting studio, a secondary broadcasting studio, a couple meeting rooms, and a few offices--one for the station manager (a faculty-held position), one for the student programming director, and two more that were slightly larger and typically shared between the radio personalities and sound techs.
As Alex stepped in through the glass door, he turned a slow look around the smallish room--clearly the reception area or lobby--noting the half-dozen or so chairs (all empty at this time of night) and the low tables covered in music and radio-related magazines. The Contemporary design scheme continued inside, though the furniture, flooring, and walls all looked well-worn, just on the near side of shabby. Three of the walls were nearly covered in framed posters and other kinds of publicity that advertised past and presumably present radio shows, as well as various famous musicians and big names in the broadcasting world, many of which looked like they’d been taken in this very building. (Alex couldn’t help wondering if the profusion of photographs and posters was someone’s attempt at hiding how much the room needed a new coat of paint.) The receptionist’s desk had clearly seen a lot of use over the years as well, but it was well-organized, obviously staffed by someone who cared about keeping things neat and tidy--presumably the statuesque, ebony-skinned girl seated behind it. Alex found himself stopping and staring just three steps into the room, however, because the entire far wall behind the desk was taken up by shelves and shelves of CDs and vinyl records. It was more music than he’d ever seen all in one place, aside from maybe in a music store, but this was different. This was-
“Can I help you?” the girl at the desk said in a carefully precise, completely accent-less voice, her expression politely bland.
Giving a small shake of his head, Alex redirected his attention to her, and immediately found himself frowning, because she looked familiar, somehow...
“Yeah, I think so. I’m supposed to meet Connor Katou here, for a radio program?” It sounded uncertain, like more of a hesitant question than a statement of intent--he still wasn’t entirely sure that Connor hadn’t been messing with him, lying about having a radio program for the sake of some kind of outlandish joke.
The girl’s dark eyes narrowed into a sharply analytical stare, as if just by looking him up and down, she could determine if he ‘had what it took’ or whatever to make it in the radio business. “Another one of Connor’s, are you,” she said, each word crisp and exacting.
“Actually, I don’t have any interest in being anything of Connor’s, other than his guest on his show...if he actually has one. I’m still not convinced--I mean, who would want to hear him talk more than he already does?”
That brought a slight curve to the girl’s mouth, though her eyes remained sharp. “He does truly have a show, somehow. He told me to expect you--and mentioned that you have, in his words, ‘quite a mouth on you.’ I see that for once, he was not exaggerating.” Standing, she held out a well-manicured hand, free of jewelry, and added, “I am Chisomo Ryelle-Houston. I am, for now, the main receptionist here at CCR--Carrington Campus Radio--but I also do many, many other much more important things that do not currently concern you.”
After Alex shook her hand and offered his own name, she gestured for him to follow her, then went through the door behind the desk, pausing on the other side to make sure Alex was actually coming along. “Dr. de Forest’s office is upstairs. You will need to speak with him, and sign some forms, before you go on the radio tonight.”
Suddenly it clicked, where he’d seen Chisomo before, and Alex paused, one foot on the first step as he blurted out, “Fall Off The Radar!”
Chisomo paused as well, then slowly turned an almost scornful look back down the stairs at him, one perfectly-shaped eyebrow raised in a silent question.
“You’re the bassist from Fall Off The Radar, aren’t you?”
Chisomo’s almost contemptuous expression didn’t shift or fade even slightly. “I am sure I do not know what you are talking about.”
The longer Alex looked at her, though, the more certain he was. The heavy make-up was nowhere to be seen, and her clothing was very different (classic business pantsuit rather than black leather catsuit), but her facial structure, her height, her build, all of it matched up perfectly. Unless she had a sister or an identical twin stashed somewhere, this was definitely the same person. “But-”
“What I do in my free time is my own business, no one else’s. Now come, Dr. de Forest is waiting for us.”
Why is she denying it? Alex wondered, but she’d made a good point; it really wasn’t his business what she did with her life. Still, he couldn’t resist adding as they reached the top of the stairs, “I’m just saying, without meaning anything by it one way or another, that I was at the show at the Rave Review back in October, and the bassist for Fall Off The Radar was fantastically good. Their singer sucked, but the bassist was good enough that they almost made up for it all on their own. Just saying.”
Chisomo didn’t comment, didn’t so much as look back at him again or react in any way that he could see, ignoring him entirely as they walked down a short hallway. Knocking on the frame of an already half-open door, the tall girl pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped in just long enough to say, “Here he is, Dr. de Forest: Alex Faulkner.”
“Ah, right on time! Yes, yes, thank you, Chisomo.”
Chisomo nodded, a curt, businesslike movement, then spun on her (high) heels and brushed past Alex, striding out of the office and down the hallway again, without sparing another look or word for the blue-haired teen, who glanced after her with bemusement before peering into the office hesitantly.
“No need for that, now, come on in! Take a seat, Mr. Faulkner, and make yourself at home!”
Alex did as requested, settling into one of the plush but worn pair of chairs situated in front of the professor’s desk, splitting his attention between studying the room itself and the man occupying it.
Dr. Lee de Forest was just on the older side of middle age, with the kindly absent-minded smile of someone who was constantly losing his glasses, then spending ten minutes searching for them frantically, only to find that they’d been perched on top of his head the entire time. His hair was receding a little, already starting to go white, with a bit of a fluffy, flyaway look to it, but his thick eyebrows were still very dark, making his gaze seem more intense and focused than it probably really was, judging by the genial smile on his squarish, strongly-jawed face. As he studied Alex for a few seconds, he rubbed at his small, well-kept mustache (mostly white, matching his hair, not his eyebrows), then he beamed as he sat back in his chair.
“So! You’re the one Connor has told me so much about!”
Alex raised his eyebrows with an amused sort of uncertainty. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Because if it’s a bad thing, then...uh, who’s this ‘Connor’ guy you’re talking about?”
With a little chortle, Dr. de Forest clapped his hands together, clearly tickled by that answer, and all Alex could think was, maybe this is going to be easier than I thought.
“He told me that you’ve a sharp wit, that you’re mentally quick on your feet, and that you never fail to let him know when he’s being an annoyance, generally in a quite straightforward manner. Which,” he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “as his advisor, I must say is something that Mr. Katou is in dire need of a bit more often than he should be. In any case...I have the necessary forms here for you to sign--waivers, release forms, the like--but I have a question of my own for you, Mr. Faulkner, that I consider to be equally important to all of that.”
Alex straightened in his chair, his face going blank and unreadable as he readied himself for the question, whatever it was.
“Why do you want to be on the radio tonight?” He let the question hang there for a moment, then fleshed it out more. “After all, you must have some reason for saying yes, even if it’s was nothing more than a whim. In your own words, I’d like to know why. And don’t worry,” he chuckled, gentle eyes twinkling with merry reassurance, “I won’t kick you out of here or prevent you from being on the show if you don’t have some grand, important reason. It’s just something I like to ask everyone the first time...and like to ask again, if they come back a second or third time.”
Alex was the type of person who had a solid reason in mind for most of the things he did, and this was no different; he didn’t have to stop and think about it now, because he’d already asked himself a similar question. “I’m a Communications major,” he said once Dr. de Forest paused to hear his answer. “Radio broadcasting falls under that field of study, and since I’m not quite sure what direction I want to take my degree...I thought it would be worthwhile to see what this is like. So, summed up in one word, I guess the answer is...‘curiosity.’ ”
“A fine reason to do many things,” the professor nodded, his tone approving, “Though, of course, not all things. In any case, Mr. Faulkner, I’ve wasted enough of your time, so let’s go over these forms and get them signed.”
The clearly good-natured professor explained the purpose and reason behind each item, from legal ramifications to personal protection, keeping it all concise and coherent; then he fell to explaining a short history of the station itself, its raison d'être: “CCR is here to be a voice of the students--for the students, to the students, about the students.”
“Kinda long, but kinda catchy, too,” Alex quipped, but it was definitely a good notion, a valuable and constructive concept. “Almost a little Gettysburg Address--‘of the people, by the people, for the people’ and all that, huh?”
“Yes yes, quite,” Dr. de Forest nodded again, eyes bright and gleaming with eagerness as he looked across the desk at Alex. “Freedom of Speech is historic in many ways, and we strive to embrace and safeguard-”
“Heeeey, what’s up, Doc de Ef?”
Alex tensed reflexively at that voice--that very irritating voice--and for just a moment, he wondered again why he’d agreed to do this. Was it worth it, really, putting up with Connor all night just so he could say he’d tried radio broadcasting at least once?
Probably not, but I’m here, so I might as well.
“Ah, Connor! I’m enjoying speaking with your friend, Alex--I hope we don’t frighten him off, because I think you’re quite right about him. Anyway, we’ve already got the paperwork finished up, so you’re free to go, Alex. Give him a tour of the station while you’re at it, Connor, if you’d be so kind.”
Connor gave a grin and a jaunty mock salute, “Aye, sir!” Before Alex could respond, Connor was taking him by the arm and hauling him out of Dr. de Forest’s office and down the hall to the main broadcasting studio.
The red ON AIR light was on over the doorway as they stepped into the control room, which sat between the larger primary and smaller secondary broadcasting studios, so Connor put a finger to his lips, indicating the need for low voices. Alex nodded his understanding and only just resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the irony of Connor telling him to be quiet.
“As you can see, this is the control room. We’re gonna be in the smaller recording studio tonight, so if you want to go put your stuff in there, go for it--Chisomo gave the bigger one to the debate club, for their on-air discussion of the historical lack of diversity in the bi-annual plays put on by the official university theatre department.”
After dropping off his bag and jacket, Alex rejoined Connor, who gave him ‘the grand tour’ of the station, ending in the break room, which (the blue-haired teen was interested to note) had a vending machine that served cans of hot coffee. “Have ‘em all over the place in Japan,” Connor noted, patting the machine with an almost parental sort of pride. “One of my favourite parts of visiting my grandparents, to tell the truth, so I pulled some strings to see if we could get one here, and--yatta!”
Alex nodded disinterestedly, pushing aside that vignette and whatever that random foreign language word was in favor of asking the question that had been on his mind since Connor had dragged him away from Dr. de Forest’s office ten minutes before.
“So...what did you tell Dr. de Forest about me that you were ‘quite right’ about?”
Connor tried to put on an innocent expression, and did about as well as Alex’s five-year-old half-brother Drew generally did when he attempted the same thing. “Hmmmmm? Whaaaat? I’m not sure what you’re-”
“Bullshit. What is it? Why don’t you wanna tell me, if it wasn’t something bad?”
The forced innocent look vanished from the older student’s face, leaving an almost sly expression in its stead. “I’ll tell ya after the show. If I toldja now, it might mess with your head, so don’t worry about it until afterwards, okay? It wasn’t anything bad, I promise.”
Alex gave him a flat look that expressed just how much Connor’s ‘promises’ were worth to him, but he let it go for now. He was already starting to feel a little anxious, a little nervous about being live, on the air, even if the campus station had a relatively small audience.
I wonder if Bianca ever listens to this station, he couldn’t help wondering. It had never come up in all their many conversations--there had never really been a reason for it to--but she hadn’t seemed to know that Connor was a host (or was it more of a ‘personality’?), so she almost certainly wouldn’t be listening to this program tonight.
For a brief moment, he considered texting her, asking her to listen, but...he wasn’t sure yet how he’d do, and embarrassing himself in front of Bianca was one of the last things Alex Faulkner wanted to do, ever. He didn’t need to give himself any reason to be more nervous.
“Well, it’s getting close to showtime. We should get on in there, so I can show you around the controls,” Connor said, beckoning for him to follow. Alex studied him as they made their way back to the secondary recording studio, envying that easy, relaxed demeanor--Connor clearly wasn’t worried in the least.
Then again, this is old hat for him, Alex reminded himself as they settled into their chairs and Connor gave him a rundown of the most important buttons, switches, and dials on the control panel in front of them. But...c’mon. If Connor can do this, then so can I.
As it turned out, Connor’s on-air name was, in fact, ‘Dr. Connor, Captain of the Love Corp’, and he talked incessantly about the ‘Loooove Boat’ pulling into or leaving port, and made liberal use of the ridiculous cruise liner ship horn sound effect--specifically, whenever someone called in with a ‘successful’ love story.
Even so, Alex was enjoying himself, more or less. It was interesting to talk to the callers, to hear these brave strangers share a snapshot of something important happening in their lives, and try to match up a song with what they were going through. Being such a small station, they had a really limited amount of music to work with, so they couldn’t get it perfect every time, but each song had at least a line or two that worked for the caller. Alex was impressed at how quickly Connor could draw those kinds of parallels and queue up a fitting song, all the while chatting away with the person about whatever it was they’d called in to talk about. Alex himself helped out with matching up some songs, though he was more interested in getting the right tone for the person. If it was a happy story, he wanted to play a cheerful song; if it was sad, it would be a darker one, though also one with a hopeful message woven into it.
Alex actually didn’t do all that much talking, at least not at first. At the start, he’d discuss the caller’s situation with Connor, who mentioned every now and then that he sure was being nice about all this: “Where's that sharp tongue that you wield with all the delicate, destructive grace of a rapier-blade so much of the time?”
“Ugh, what’s with the purple prose?” Alex snorted, waving Connor off, because even though he knew the listeners wouldn’t see it, Connor certainly could. “Anyway, I save my vitriol for people who actually deserve it. Idiots and jackasses who don’t wanna learn to be anything better, or smarter. You know, like you.”
Connor laughed at that, conceding the point, and took the next caller with a huge grin on his face that left Alex shaking his head and wondering if this weird guy was some kind of masochist.
Most of the callers’ stories were romance-related, and about half the time they even wanted advice of some sort, everything from how to best approach someone and ask them out, to whether they should break up with someone, to how they should know if the person they were dating was right for them to marry. Alex, with his distinct lack of romantic experience, found himself at something of a loss for most of those questions, and focused on the music aspect more, though he did listen to Connor’s responses...and actually found himself agreeing most of the time with the older student’s surprisingly thoughtful, reasonable advice.
A stammering freshman called in, asking how to approach the cute girl who he’d had a class with last semester and been unable to bring himself to talk to; Connor told him to be straightforward, to catch her somewhere bright and well-populated, and simply tell her that she’d really left an impression on him, and that he’d like to buy her a coffee and get to know her better some time, if she didn’t mind. If she turned him down, he had to let it go, though--stalking was never good, and being pushy wouldn’t win him any points either, and when it came down to it, even if he had a huge crush on her, he didn’t really know her; a semester ago he hadn’t known she existed, so there was probably another cute girl out there somewhere who would say yes to having coffee with him--he just had to keep moving forward and find her.
Next Connor told a tearful girl to break up with her serial-cheating boyfriend, because she deserved better, and if he didn’t care about her enough to stop hurting her like that, then he didn’t really love her, and he wasn’t worth her time. Things wouldn’t get better the longer she dragged it out, only worse.
“Don’t let him convince you to take him back, either, hon,” Connor warned, surprisingly serious. “Trust me, I’ve been there, and that kind have a lot of trouble changing. It might shake him up for a little while if you walk out on him, but you’re just the fallback plan, and that’s not fair or safe for you. You’re better off letting him go and finding someone who’ll be serious about you, and seriously devoted to you...” Abruptly, his tone changed to a light, bubbly chirp as he added, “You don’t sound like the type, but hey, let me just say that if you’re looking for some fun in the meantime, Dr. Connor is 100% available to be your bad boy rebound.”
Alex made a disgusted noise that his mic thankfully didn’t catch, and quickly started the song he’d chosen for the (in his opinion) unfortunate girl on the line, forcing Connor to hurriedly finish his terrible flirting, to let the song play and the caller go.
“You’re majorly cramping my style, here, man,” Connor whined, but the laughter in his voice belied his words, and Alex shook his head again, slowly.
“...I really don’t get you. Most of the time, you’re just completely full of shit, then you turn around and offer advice like that.”
“Hmm? You mean saying I’ll be her rebound? Because I totally meant it, she sounded super cute-”
“No, don’t play dumb about this. Obviously I mean the rest of it, the actually...sensible stuff you told her.” He dropped his eyes, fidgeting with one of the zippers on his pants as he added, “I didn’t know you had it in you. You almost sounded...like you really cared. About her, a total stranger.”
Connor had gone silent, staring over at Alex with a strangely unreadable expression on his face; before he could respond though, Chisomo’s voice crackled over their headsets, warning them that the song was almost over and a new caller was on the line, ready and waiting. Connor looked over at the booth and nodded his understanding, and a few seconds later, greeted the caller with all his regular over-the-top enthusiasm. Alex stayed quiet, ready to start searching through their database of songs once the caller, a guy this time, had shared enough of his story to give him a general idea of what might be suitable, but this time it wasn’t necessary.
This caller (who definitely sounded as if he’d already had a few drinks, enough to be belligerent) didn’t want advice, he just had a song dedication--one of the most angry, eff-you-bitch songs on the radio these days--but that was only the lead-in to his sob story...which was all about how he’d been ‘friendzoned’.
“Ooh, that’s rough buddy,” Connor said, clearly amused by the guy’s alcohol-fueled ramblings...but with every sullen, bitter word the caller said, Alex found himself getting more and more angry, until he felt as if the very heart sitting in his chest had gone harder and colder than stone, his entire ribcage nothing more than a shatteringly icy sub-zero freezer.
There was no question as to why this caller’s words had struck such a chord with Alex: it was because of Bianca.
He knew that Bianca only saw him as a friend...but he wasn’t about to blame that on her. If that was anyone’s “fault,” then it was his own, not hers--after all, joking flirting aside, he’d only ever been friendly, even though he’d had numerous chances to tell her, to say something about his feelings, to make a move. He hadn’t taken the Jackson Challenge. He hadn’t asked her out, not even on one of those lame group dates that the various dorms tried to pull random people into attending. He hadn’t expressed any sort of feelings like that to her, so...why wouldn’t she think that they were just friends, or that friendship was all he wanted?
But, well. Regardless of whatever else he might want in his secret heart of hearts, her friendship was still what he wanted most of all, so he wasn’t pretending, or lying to her, or trying to get close to her through dishonest means.
He was nothing like this piece of shit they had on the phone right now, who clearly only wanted to sleep with this girl, who didn’t care about her actual feelings, or treating her like another goddamn person.
The caller had rambled on and on about how unfair it was, how awful all her boyfriends were to her, how he was the perfect guy for her and yet somehow she just couldn’t see that, God what was wrong with this bitch-
“...‘Friend-zoned,’ huh.”
Connor was startled at hearing Alex speak up in the first place; but the slow, quiet danger in the other student’s tone was enough to make him shoot a nervous sideways glance over at his guest star, feeling every muscle in his body tense up reflexively.
“ ‘Friend-zoned’...that’s what you’re calling it.”
“That’s what it IS, dude!” the caller declared, his tone that of someone holding an unassailable position of righteous anger, that of the horrendously wronged victim.
Well. They’d just see about that, wouldn’t they.
Alex leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, which Connor had come to recognize as his way of settling in for a good fight. “Okay then, friend, tell me what, exactly, you’ve done to express your interest in dating this girl. Aside from secretly staring at her with super-sad puppy dog eyes and heaving longing sighs every so often.”
A sputtering noise came from the other end of the line, and Alex seized on that moment of weakness with all the viciousness of a wolf bringing down a deer, blood-soaked teeth locked around its raggedly gasping throat. “I mean, if you’re claiming to be ‘friend-zoned’ then surely you’ve told her how you really feel, right?”
“No way, dude! If I did that she wouldn’t want to hang out with me any more! It would be too weird!”
“And hanging out while secretly lusting after someone who has no clue that you’re interested in being more than friends isn’t weird?”
“No! I mean--I don’t know!”
Alex steepled his fingers, looking for all the world like a villain ready to lay out his logic and utterly destroy someone’s whole way of thinking. “Right, so, let me get this straight: you’re bemoaning the fact that this girl you like only sees you as a friend...and yet that’s all you’ve told her that you want to be? You’re blaming her for not liking you, or ‘seeing you as a man,’ or throwing herself at your feet just because you spend time together in a platonic way? Do you not see the problem here?”
“Dude, you don’t even know what’s going on! I was totally there for her when her last asshole boyfriend dumped her! I brought her ice cream and listened to her talk and even sat through some sappy movie marathon with her while she cried her eyes out! And yet she’s never looked my way even once, even though I supported her-”
“-Like a good friend would support someone with a broken heart. Yes. Except, you’re clearly not a good friend, because you don’t even want to be her friend. You apparently want her to want to bang you just because you held out a box of tissues at the right time and pretended to care about her feelings, and listen, ‘dude’, that’s not how things work.”
“Fuck you, man! You don’t know-”
“I know that you’re acting like you’re her friend when you don’t actually want her friendship at all, which kinda makes you a liar. What do you think, Connor?”
Connor, who had been watching Alex closely the whole time, broke out in a laugh that was a little shaky for all its clear amusement. “Man, I am staying WAY out of this one,” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair and throwing up his hands dramatically. “I can take call-in requests and say something funny about it and all, and I can give great love advice, too, but this is too deep for me--this is some Ann Landers bullshit! But-” he added, when Alex rolled his eyes and gave him a withering really, you actually don’t have something to say for once? stare, “I...gotta admit that it does sound a little dishonest. I mean, I know it’s hard to tell someone how you feel, especially when you don’t want to ruin what you’ve got going on already, but...”
“But you still can’t blame this girl for not...what, magically reading your mind and asking YOU out first?” It was Alex’s turn to laugh this time, and it was a mocking, brazen sound. “How full of yourself can you get?”
“I’m not--that’s not--you little shit, who the hell do you think you are?!”
“Wow, you’re reeeeally well-spoken, aren’t you? Gosh, I just don’t have any response for that kind of eloquent argument. You’ve left me completely at a loss.” Alex smirked, and Connor flinched again, though a hint of a thrill ran through him as well at how cold, how vicious his guest star’s smile had become. “Actually, I guess I do have one more thing to add, and I suggest you take this piece of advice to heart: if you’re right and her type is stupid assholes, then maybe you’ve got a chance after all.”
“Aaaand that’s all the time we have for that call, I think!” Connor cut in quickly, “Alex, why don’t you play a song for him-”
“You know, I would, but I don’t think we have a recording of the world’s tiniest violin playing ‘My Heart Bleeds for You’, do we?”
“Alex-! Haha, wow, ooohhh-kay! Thanks for listening to 89.9, Carrington Campus Radio, we’ll be right back after these messages from our sponsors!”
Once their mics were off, Connor leaned back in his chair--and laughed. He laughed so hard that his headset slid off his head and settled down around his neck, and when he finally managed to regain control of himself, he reached over to slap Alex on the side of the arm so hard, it stung for a full five minutes afterwards.
“Oh my God, that was amazing!” he chuckled, wiping a tear out of his eye. “I knew asking you to come on here with me was the right thing to do! I knew that you’d take to it like a fish to water, that you’d be so damn good at it--as long as someone found a way to get under your skin, anyway. Heh, wow,” he snickered, his grin wider than ever as he looked over at Alex, who was giving him a skeptical frown. “Well, here’s hoping that you don’t get in trouble for-”
“Connor.” Chisomo’s calm, even voice came over the room’s speakers, and the senior sat up a little straighter in his chair again as he turned his attention towards her. “You already have two callers on the line who want to talk to Alex, specifically.”
“Hey, if you think I’m gonna let them read him the riot act, I won’t-”
“It is the opposite.”
Connor blinked, looking over at an equally-curious Alex. “What?”
“They are calling in to say that they agree with what he said. Three callers, now. And we have an email--two emails--saying much the same thing, if you would like to read those on-air after the commercial break is over.”
Connor and Alex exchanged another look, and Alex shrugged--it sounded fine to him. It was interesting that saying something live like this could have such an immediate reaction, a nearly instant response. It raised the stakes a little, made it all seem a little more...exciting. Exhilarating. He couldn’t deny that it had felt good, verbally tearing into that jackass, calling him out for his bad behavior. That wasn’t really what Connor’s show was about, though, so Alex hoped he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries too much...but, well, the whole point of it all was entertainment, and if he’d entertained some people with his roast of that moronic man-baby, then he couldn’t be too sorry for it.
In any case, I’m just a guest star. Connor’s apparently got enough of a following that I don’t think I could really mess up his show for good, just by letting one asshole have it.
The rest of the show passed quickly for Alex. There were a few more callers asking for advice and submitting song requests, as well as several people calling or emailing to express their opinions on what Alex had said to ‘The Friendzone Guy’. For the most part, the feedback was positive, though the original caller had tried to call back and cuss them out, and there were half a dozen emails wailing about how awful it was to be stuck in the ‘friendzone’ and that it was a serious problem, as well as two emails and a single call about how mocking the people who called in wasn’t what Connor’s show stood for, what it was supposed to be about. Connor agreed with that one, reminding everyone at the end of the show that Alex was just a guest star who’d been filling in for the captain of the football team, who hadn’t been able to make it that night. Then, he was signing off with a too-cheery, “Dr. Connor will be right here again tomorrow night, waiting to hear more of your stories about loss, luck, and love, ready to give your relationship a close personal exam! Thanks for listening, the doctor is OUT!”
Alex rolled his eyes at that outro, already taking off his headphones and doing his best to put everything away back where it had been when he’d first entered the room. That had been pretty fun, and he was surprised at how tired he was, how physically drained he felt after doing nothing but sitting and talking for a few hours. Even so, it had definitely been eye-opening, a nice insight to a career path he’d never really given much thought. He’d have to see what other interesting things he could do with a Communications degree, and maybe give them a try as well.
“So,” Connor started in with his usual confident, conversational tone as they relaxed in the station break room after the show, “about all that ‘friendzone’ stuff...when exactly are you gonna take your own advice and finally say something to Bianca?”
Alex was quiet for a long moment, staring down at the can of hot coffee in his hands, most of his face hidden by his shaggy hair and the raised hood of his sweatshirt. The silence stretched just long and thin enough that Connor actually started to wonder if he’d said too much, and took a step towards the younger student--at which point Alex raised his head, revealing pale eyes that were clear and resolute.
“I don’t need to take my own advice,” he said calmly, and with utter self-assurance. “I know exactly what it is I feel, and what it makes me want. What I wish I could have.” A wry half-smile quirked one corner of his mouth upwards as he went on, “But I’m different from that caller. Because I might wish I could have more, but I’m content with how things are now.”
“C’mon, man,” Connor cajoled, reaching out to grasp Alex’s shoulders and shake him back and forth a little. “I don’t believe that for a second--I’ve seen how you look at her! You know that can’t be true!”
“What I know is what her answer would be if I did say something,” Alex retorted sharply, leaning away to twist out of Connor’s grasp. “I never expected to make any friends here at all, much less with someone as incredible as she is...” All traces of his previous asperity were gone, replaced by an atypical softness that made it clear who he was seeing in his mind’s eye as he looked down at the break room’s worn black-and-white linoleum. “...Which is why I also know...that I’m lucky enough just to be her friend.” Trying for anything more would just be greedy. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun...
“No offense, but I think that’s a load of crap.”
Alex blinked slowly at the heat and fervor in the taller student’s voice, then lifted his chin with equally unhurried deliberation, his expression a clear oh really now, do tell.
“It’s just like what you told that guy,” Connor snapped, stepping forward to jab a finger into Alex’s chest, who noticed with an absent sort of sideways interest that this was the first time since their meeting in the diner that he’d seen Connor really being genuine, instead of hiding behind either his popular or poised mask. “You’re just acting like you want to be her friend, when really-”
“First of all, fuck you. You don’t know shit about my relationship with Bianca and how much she means to me, because second of all, I really do want to be her friend.” Alex’s grey eyes were steely, his mouth drawn into a tight, angry line as he glared up at Connor. “She is literally the first person in years I’ve wanted to be friends with. I’m not blaming her for anything, or thinking any stupid bullshit like, ‘oh it’s such a tragedy that she’ll never date me when I’m such a fantastic catch!’ ”
Standing, he slugged back the rest of his coffee, not caring that it left his mouth and throat feeling scalded, then hurled the empty can halfway across the little room into the recycling bin. “It’s the opposite. She’s too good for me. She deserves way better than some short, skinny, smart-mouthed jerkoff who hates most people and pushes everyone away on purpose.”
Picking up his bag, Alex slung it over his shoulder, facing Connor squarely, as if ready for a physical fight in addition to this verbal one. “So no,” he said matter-of-factly in a sudden, obviously fake, too-sweet tone, and with a smile to match, “I’m not ever going to ‘take my own advice’ and tell her how I feel. Because her feelings matter too, and I already know that she doesn’t see me that way, and I don’t want to give her any reason to feel guilty or upset about that.”
With one more meaningful glare, and a curt nod of farewell, Alex turned on his heel and walked out of the radio station lounge, leaving a (for once) completely speechless Connor Katou staring after him, eyes wide and jaw hanging open.
READ MORE
"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Fourteen
[A/N: I suuuuper hate whole the “friendzoned” thing, and so does Alex...but here’s a song for the garbage guy who calls in to Connor’s show: ugh.]
“Heeeey, Alex! WHAT UP, you look like shit!”
Alex gritted his teeth, closing his eyes and willing away the knee-jerk wave of irritation that always washed over him whenever he heard that voice.
“Connor,” he said in response, clipped and clearly not welcoming, but the handsome Asian student just as clearly ignored Alex’s tone and dropped into the seat next to him anyway.
Through random happenstance (or more likely Connor’s zero-chill stalking), they’d ended up in the same winter inter-term class, PHIL 2702, Popular Music and Philosophy.
“So! What’s the special occasion?” Connor asked with a salacious grin, stretching his long legs out and slumping down until his shoulders were level with Alex’s. “You’re not exactly ‘fix-y,’ but you’re still usually pretty well put-together--the ‘rumpled’ look really isn’t ‘you’--so there’s gotta be some kinda reason for...hey!” He’d been watching Alex’s face, and when he saw a tinge of pink color the other student’s cheeks, he suddenly sat up straighter, an almost deranged gleam of interest in his dark eyes. “Ho-oooohhhh-ly shit, did you actually stay over with a girl somewhere? Is this your walk of shame look? Who--oh, oh no, no way, was it Bianca? Did you actually spend the night with Bianca Jackson?”
“Shut UP!” Alex hissed, his whole face flushing guilty crimson, which was all the confirmation that Connor needed to break into a wide, toothy grin. “Look, that’s not what-”
But Connor wasn’t listening; he was too busy slapping Alex on the back and crowing about it all loudly enough that the people in the chairs around them were turning curious or skeptical looks their way. “HELL YEAH, bruh! The Jackson Challenge has been CONQUERED at long last! So how was it? How was she? C’mon, you gotta tell me aaaall about-”
“STOP,” Alex ground out, low and furious enough that Connor actually did stop, checking himself mid back-slap, though it was only a brief pause, a startled blink followed by an understanding grin.
“Heh, ahhh, I getcha, not the sort to kiss and tell, huh? What a proper gentleman-”
“I didn’t sleep with her!” Alex finally snarled, his face flushing so dark that his freckles disappeared in the crimson rush of embarrassment. He shot a dark scowl around the immediate area, and no less than half a dozen people quickly looked away and busied themselves with their phones or something in their bags. “We were hanging out last night and the weather was terrible, so I crashed on a futon on her floor. We watched some Nextflik. We talked. That’s it. Sorry to get your hopes up or whatever--which is really weird and kinda creepy, by the way--but that’s all that happened.”
It felt a little wrong, referring to the starkly honest heart-to-heart soul-baring conversation they’d had as ‘all that happened,’ but Alex didn’t want Connor to know any more about his friendship with Bianca and the invaluable time they spent together than he had to. And, in Alex’s opinion, the older student didn’t really have to know anything about it at all.
“So, wait, wait. Wait. You’re saying that you spent the night in a girl’s room--the drop-dead gorgeous girl who you’re head-over-heels in love with, and would give anything to have her look at you like-”
“Connor.”
Connor held up his hands placatingly, though it did precious little to dull the sharpness of the glare Alex was shooting his way. “Loooook, I’m just sayin’...you spent the night lying three feet away from the girl of your dreams, and you didn’t make any kind of move? That’s pretty weak, man.”
Impossibly, Alex’s expression darkened even further. “And exactly what kind of ‘move’ should I have made on my sleeping best friend, who trusted me enough to let me stay in her room with her?”
The dark-haired senior gave a bubbling snort of laughter. “If you don’t know that, you’re more of a lost cause than I thought.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I mean, hell, man, if you’re that far behind the curve, I don’t know if even I can help you...still, I’ll give it a try. You see, when two people love each other very much, or are just attracted to each other’s bangin’ hot bodies-”
“Fuck off, Connor.”
“Ohhhh, so you DO know what kinda move you should’ve made! Hey, look, I’m not saying you should’ve forced yourself on her or anything, that’s not a good time for anyone. I’m just saying that once you’re already in someone’s room, it’s generally a looot easier to seal the deal...” Connor leaned in closer, his eyelids lowering over a gaze smouldering with wicked intent and dark promises, his voice dropping to a husky, seductive croon. “...If you know how to go about it properly, I mean...”
Alex didn’t so much as bat an eye in the face of that flirtatious invitation, his only response an extremely judgmental raised eyebrow paired with a blasé eye-roll as he tilted his head away, maintaining the previous space between them.
That wasn’t enough to stop Connor from pushing the issue further, though. “Hey, I’m already teaching you how to be more social-”
“I figured that out on my own, without your help, thanks.”
“-And you’re a good-lookin’ guy, a pretty-boy, even. So if you ever want some lessons...”
Gross, was Alex’s first thought. As if I’d want those kind of lessons from a sleazy guy like this. Still, part of him wondered idly just what Connor had meant by that--probably nothing serious, hopefully nothing serious, he was annoying enough as it was already when he was just joking around--but Alex didn’t care enough to want to ask. With a disgusted sigh and another roll of his eyes, he turned to face the front of the room, where the professor was calling the class to order.
“Sooooo...is that a yes?”
“Hey, Connor.”
“Yo!”
“You ever hear that old classic, about pulling your lip up over your head and swallowing?”
“...Point taken.”
The rest of the class passed with nothing but merciful silence from Connor; he didn’t so much as cough or click his pen the whole time. From what Alex could tell, the senior just didn’t seem inclined to put on a show and be obnoxious in this class like he had in World History (he’d apparently had some sort of nonsensical, one-sided rivalry going on with Dr. Pace, so that was probably the reason for that), and it wasn’t until the class had been dismissed that Connor spoke up again.
“So, I actually have another kind of offer for y--hey wait, come back! Alex!”
No longer trapped by the need to stay for class, Alex had slung his messenger bag across his chest and headed for the door before Connor could even finish his sentence.
“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” he called back over his right shoulder, only to turn around and find Connor already walking alongside him on his left.
“This isn’t anything about the stuff I was talking about before, this is actually serious. C’mon, just hear me out, I promise you’ll be interested! You’re a Communications major just like me, right? So...have you decided what you’re gonna do with your degree?”
Alex didn’t stop walking, but he didn’t speed up either, and he didn’t try to lose the other student in the (much smaller) after-class crowds. He just angled a sideways look up and over at Connor that said, you have thirty seconds before I tell you to get lost, better make them count.
Connor got the message, because he went almost completely serious. “So, I dunno if you knew this, but I have a radio program on the campus radio station.”
“Didn’t know. Not sure I care.”
“That!” Grinning from ear to ear, Connor pointed straight at Alex. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about! See, I have a call-in dedication show, where people can talk about the people they love and dedicate songs to them, and when they’ve got issues, I offer love advice on the side. ‘Dr. Connor, Captain of the Love Corp’!”
“If that’s your for-real on-air name, that is really terrible,” Alex said with a fake sort of brightness, and Connor just grinned even wider.
“Every now and then I have guests join me in the studio. Usually it’s someone big on campus, if Dr. de Forest or I can convince ‘em, but sometimes it’s just a random Communications student. And you, with all your sarcasm and sick burns, would be the perfect choice to guest star on my show.”
It was actually an interesting proposition, Alex was a little surprised to realize. He hadn’t really considered radio much before, at least not talk radio, but seeing what it was like wasn’t a bad idea at all. In fact, it was actually a very good opportunity...though something about it still seemed a little suspicious.
“...When?”
“Hmm?”
“When do you want me on your show?”
Connor’s grin didn’t falter, but his body language told another story, everything about how he held himself suddenly going shifty and avoidant. “...Uh...tonight?”
And there it was.
“Your actual guest cancelled on you last-minute, huh. Who was it?”
The truth was out, so Connor’s smile slid off his face, revealing just about the most irritated-looking frown Alex had ever seen from him. “Eh, the asshole captain of the football team. No great loss, the guy’s been on before and can hardly string a complete sentence together. People still listened, though, and called and emailed to ask for him to come back some time, because he said some really impressively dumb shit.”
“Mm, coming from you, that is impressive.”
Connor’s grin returned full-force as he pressed a hand to his chest. “God, man, you gotta stop doing that! My heart can’t take it!”
“Soooo you don’t want me on your show tonight? And here I was ready to say yes.”
“Ohmygod, will you really?” Connor threw himself at Alex, long arms and one leg wrapping around him tighter than an over-excited octopus, making the smaller student sway dangerously to the side, only just managing to recover his balance in the face of all that sudden momentum. “I’d seriously owe you one, man!”
“Great. You can start paying me back,” Alex said with another falsely-bright smile, “by not hugging me like that ever again.” With surprisingly little difficulty, especially considering the difference between their respective heights and weights, he managed to wrench himself free of Connor’s over-eager embrace and took three quick steps back and away. “You’re lucky that I’m not working tonight, though I think Keiji would’ve let me off for something like this. Anyway, just tell me what time you need me and where to go, and I’ll be there.”
Connor bounced on the balls of his feet, almost vibrating in place and looking like Christmas had come again already even though it wasn’t even a month out the door. “ThankyouuuuuuuuuthankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!” he gushed, moving to tackle Alex for another hug, then catching himself and offering a not-quite-apologetic lopsided grin. “My show starts at 10:00 and runs past midnight, depending on how many callers and requests I get! We can go longer if we want, the girl who ran the show after mine graduated at the end of December--super bright chick, that one, though not very friendly for some reason. Anyway! Be in the radio station lobby by 9:30 at the latest, though 9:00 would probably be best. Dr. de Forest wanted to have a little chat with you first, I think, to go over some basic rules ‘n’ shit. But yeah, see you then!”
Interesting as the offer had been, Alex was already starting to regret it a little, if only because of Connor. He also wasn’t sure how he’d do talking to a bunch of strangers over the phone...but then again, maybe the fact that they couldn’t see him would make it less nerve-wracking.
I guess I’ll find out tonight, he thought to himself as he absently waved goodbye to Connor, one way or another.
The Carrington radio station was a standalone building, within sight of the library, the Robin Goodfellow Theatre, and Maury Hall, the building that housed most of the Music/Communications classes and professors’ offices. It had an angular, very Contemporary look, made entirely of white-painted metal and glass, with (of course) a huge broadcast transmitter on the roof. The entire first floor was recording studios of various sizes, two single-person unisex bathrooms, the front office/reception area, and the station break room. The second floor held the main broadcasting studio, a secondary broadcasting studio, a couple meeting rooms, and a few offices--one for the station manager (a faculty-held position), one for the student programming director, and two more that were slightly larger and typically shared between the radio personalities and sound techs.
As Alex stepped in through the glass door, he turned a slow look around the smallish room--clearly the reception area or lobby--noting the half-dozen or so chairs (all empty at this time of night) and the low tables covered in music and radio-related magazines. The Contemporary design scheme continued inside, though the furniture, flooring, and walls all looked well-worn, just on the near side of shabby. Three of the walls were nearly covered in framed posters and other kinds of publicity that advertised past and presumably present radio shows, as well as various famous musicians and big names in the broadcasting world, many of which looked like they’d been taken in this very building. (Alex couldn’t help wondering if the profusion of photographs and posters was someone’s attempt at hiding how much the room needed a new coat of paint.) The receptionist’s desk had clearly seen a lot of use over the years as well, but it was well-organized, obviously staffed by someone who cared about keeping things neat and tidy--presumably the statuesque, ebony-skinned girl seated behind it. Alex found himself stopping and staring just three steps into the room, however, because the entire far wall behind the desk was taken up by shelves and shelves of CDs and vinyl records. It was more music than he’d ever seen all in one place, aside from maybe in a music store, but this was different. This was-
“Can I help you?” the girl at the desk said in a carefully precise, completely accent-less voice, her expression politely bland.
Giving a small shake of his head, Alex redirected his attention to her, and immediately found himself frowning, because she looked familiar, somehow...
“Yeah, I think so. I’m supposed to meet Connor Katou here, for a radio program?” It sounded uncertain, like more of a hesitant question than a statement of intent--he still wasn’t entirely sure that Connor hadn’t been messing with him, lying about having a radio program for the sake of some kind of outlandish joke.
The girl’s dark eyes narrowed into a sharply analytical stare, as if just by looking him up and down, she could determine if he ‘had what it took’ or whatever to make it in the radio business. “Another one of Connor’s, are you,” she said, each word crisp and exacting.
“Actually, I don’t have any interest in being anything of Connor’s, other than his guest on his show...if he actually has one. I’m still not convinced--I mean, who would want to hear him talk more than he already does?”
That brought a slight curve to the girl’s mouth, though her eyes remained sharp. “He does truly have a show, somehow. He told me to expect you--and mentioned that you have, in his words, ‘quite a mouth on you.’ I see that for once, he was not exaggerating.” Standing, she held out a well-manicured hand, free of jewelry, and added, “I am Chisomo Ryelle-Houston. I am, for now, the main receptionist here at CCR--Carrington Campus Radio--but I also do many, many other much more important things that do not currently concern you.”
After Alex shook her hand and offered his own name, she gestured for him to follow her, then went through the door behind the desk, pausing on the other side to make sure Alex was actually coming along. “Dr. de Forest’s office is upstairs. You will need to speak with him, and sign some forms, before you go on the radio tonight.”
Suddenly it clicked, where he’d seen Chisomo before, and Alex paused, one foot on the first step as he blurted out, “Fall Off The Radar!”
Chisomo paused as well, then slowly turned an almost scornful look back down the stairs at him, one perfectly-shaped eyebrow raised in a silent question.
“You’re the bassist from Fall Off The Radar, aren’t you?”
Chisomo’s almost contemptuous expression didn’t shift or fade even slightly. “I am sure I do not know what you are talking about.”
The longer Alex looked at her, though, the more certain he was. The heavy make-up was nowhere to be seen, and her clothing was very different (classic business pantsuit rather than black leather catsuit), but her facial structure, her height, her build, all of it matched up perfectly. Unless she had a sister or an identical twin stashed somewhere, this was definitely the same person. “But-”
“What I do in my free time is my own business, no one else’s. Now come, Dr. de Forest is waiting for us.”
Why is she denying it? Alex wondered, but she’d made a good point; it really wasn’t his business what she did with her life. Still, he couldn’t resist adding as they reached the top of the stairs, “I’m just saying, without meaning anything by it one way or another, that I was at the show at the Rave Review back in October, and the bassist for Fall Off The Radar was fantastically good. Their singer sucked, but the bassist was good enough that they almost made up for it all on their own. Just saying.”
Chisomo didn’t comment, didn’t so much as look back at him again or react in any way that he could see, ignoring him entirely as they walked down a short hallway. Knocking on the frame of an already half-open door, the tall girl pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped in just long enough to say, “Here he is, Dr. de Forest: Alex Faulkner.”
“Ah, right on time! Yes, yes, thank you, Chisomo.”
Chisomo nodded, a curt, businesslike movement, then spun on her (high) heels and brushed past Alex, striding out of the office and down the hallway again, without sparing another look or word for the blue-haired teen, who glanced after her with bemusement before peering into the office hesitantly.
“No need for that, now, come on in! Take a seat, Mr. Faulkner, and make yourself at home!”
Alex did as requested, settling into one of the plush but worn pair of chairs situated in front of the professor’s desk, splitting his attention between studying the room itself and the man occupying it.
Dr. Lee de Forest was just on the older side of middle age, with the kindly absent-minded smile of someone who was constantly losing his glasses, then spending ten minutes searching for them frantically, only to find that they’d been perched on top of his head the entire time. His hair was receding a little, already starting to go white, with a bit of a fluffy, flyaway look to it, but his thick eyebrows were still very dark, making his gaze seem more intense and focused than it probably really was, judging by the genial smile on his squarish, strongly-jawed face. As he studied Alex for a few seconds, he rubbed at his small, well-kept mustache (mostly white, matching his hair, not his eyebrows), then he beamed as he sat back in his chair.
“So! You’re the one Connor has told me so much about!”
Alex raised his eyebrows with an amused sort of uncertainty. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Because if it’s a bad thing, then...uh, who’s this ‘Connor’ guy you’re talking about?”
With a little chortle, Dr. de Forest clapped his hands together, clearly tickled by that answer, and all Alex could think was, maybe this is going to be easier than I thought.
“He told me that you’ve a sharp wit, that you’re mentally quick on your feet, and that you never fail to let him know when he’s being an annoyance, generally in a quite straightforward manner. Which,” he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “as his advisor, I must say is something that Mr. Katou is in dire need of a bit more often than he should be. In any case...I have the necessary forms here for you to sign--waivers, release forms, the like--but I have a question of my own for you, Mr. Faulkner, that I consider to be equally important to all of that.”
Alex straightened in his chair, his face going blank and unreadable as he readied himself for the question, whatever it was.
“Why do you want to be on the radio tonight?” He let the question hang there for a moment, then fleshed it out more. “After all, you must have some reason for saying yes, even if it’s was nothing more than a whim. In your own words, I’d like to know why. And don’t worry,” he chuckled, gentle eyes twinkling with merry reassurance, “I won’t kick you out of here or prevent you from being on the show if you don’t have some grand, important reason. It’s just something I like to ask everyone the first time...and like to ask again, if they come back a second or third time.”
Alex was the type of person who had a solid reason in mind for most of the things he did, and this was no different; he didn’t have to stop and think about it now, because he’d already asked himself a similar question. “I’m a Communications major,” he said once Dr. de Forest paused to hear his answer. “Radio broadcasting falls under that field of study, and since I’m not quite sure what direction I want to take my degree...I thought it would be worthwhile to see what this is like. So, summed up in one word, I guess the answer is...‘curiosity.’ ”
“A fine reason to do many things,” the professor nodded, his tone approving, “Though, of course, not all things. In any case, Mr. Faulkner, I’ve wasted enough of your time, so let’s go over these forms and get them signed.”
The clearly good-natured professor explained the purpose and reason behind each item, from legal ramifications to personal protection, keeping it all concise and coherent; then he fell to explaining a short history of the station itself, its raison d'être: “CCR is here to be a voice of the students--for the students, to the students, about the students.”
“Kinda long, but kinda catchy, too,” Alex quipped, but it was definitely a good notion, a valuable and constructive concept. “Almost a little Gettysburg Address--‘of the people, by the people, for the people’ and all that, huh?”
“Yes yes, quite,” Dr. de Forest nodded again, eyes bright and gleaming with eagerness as he looked across the desk at Alex. “Freedom of Speech is historic in many ways, and we strive to embrace and safeguard-”
“Heeeey, what’s up, Doc de Ef?”
Alex tensed reflexively at that voice--that very irritating voice--and for just a moment, he wondered again why he’d agreed to do this. Was it worth it, really, putting up with Connor all night just so he could say he’d tried radio broadcasting at least once?
Probably not, but I’m here, so I might as well.
“Ah, Connor! I’m enjoying speaking with your friend, Alex--I hope we don’t frighten him off, because I think you’re quite right about him. Anyway, we’ve already got the paperwork finished up, so you’re free to go, Alex. Give him a tour of the station while you’re at it, Connor, if you’d be so kind.”
Connor gave a grin and a jaunty mock salute, “Aye, sir!” Before Alex could respond, Connor was taking him by the arm and hauling him out of Dr. de Forest’s office and down the hall to the main broadcasting studio.
The red ON AIR light was on over the doorway as they stepped into the control room, which sat between the larger primary and smaller secondary broadcasting studios, so Connor put a finger to his lips, indicating the need for low voices. Alex nodded his understanding and only just resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the irony of Connor telling him to be quiet.
“As you can see, this is the control room. We’re gonna be in the smaller recording studio tonight, so if you want to go put your stuff in there, go for it--Chisomo gave the bigger one to the debate club, for their on-air discussion of the historical lack of diversity in the bi-annual plays put on by the official university theatre department.”
After dropping off his bag and jacket, Alex rejoined Connor, who gave him ‘the grand tour’ of the station, ending in the break room, which (the blue-haired teen was interested to note) had a vending machine that served cans of hot coffee. “Have ‘em all over the place in Japan,” Connor noted, patting the machine with an almost parental sort of pride. “One of my favourite parts of visiting my grandparents, to tell the truth, so I pulled some strings to see if we could get one here, and--yatta!”
Alex nodded disinterestedly, pushing aside that vignette and whatever that random foreign language word was in favor of asking the question that had been on his mind since Connor had dragged him away from Dr. de Forest’s office ten minutes before.
“So...what did you tell Dr. de Forest about me that you were ‘quite right’ about?”
Connor tried to put on an innocent expression, and did about as well as Alex’s five-year-old half-brother Drew generally did when he attempted the same thing. “Hmmmmm? Whaaaat? I’m not sure what you’re-”
“Bullshit. What is it? Why don’t you wanna tell me, if it wasn’t something bad?”
The forced innocent look vanished from the older student’s face, leaving an almost sly expression in its stead. “I’ll tell ya after the show. If I toldja now, it might mess with your head, so don’t worry about it until afterwards, okay? It wasn’t anything bad, I promise.”
Alex gave him a flat look that expressed just how much Connor’s ‘promises’ were worth to him, but he let it go for now. He was already starting to feel a little anxious, a little nervous about being live, on the air, even if the campus station had a relatively small audience.
I wonder if Bianca ever listens to this station, he couldn’t help wondering. It had never come up in all their many conversations--there had never really been a reason for it to--but she hadn’t seemed to know that Connor was a host (or was it more of a ‘personality’?), so she almost certainly wouldn’t be listening to this program tonight.
For a brief moment, he considered texting her, asking her to listen, but...he wasn’t sure yet how he’d do, and embarrassing himself in front of Bianca was one of the last things Alex Faulkner wanted to do, ever. He didn’t need to give himself any reason to be more nervous.
“Well, it’s getting close to showtime. We should get on in there, so I can show you around the controls,” Connor said, beckoning for him to follow. Alex studied him as they made their way back to the secondary recording studio, envying that easy, relaxed demeanor--Connor clearly wasn’t worried in the least.
Then again, this is old hat for him, Alex reminded himself as they settled into their chairs and Connor gave him a rundown of the most important buttons, switches, and dials on the control panel in front of them. But...c’mon. If Connor can do this, then so can I.
As it turned out, Connor’s on-air name was, in fact, ‘Dr. Connor, Captain of the Love Corp’, and he talked incessantly about the ‘Loooove Boat’ pulling into or leaving port, and made liberal use of the ridiculous cruise liner ship horn sound effect--specifically, whenever someone called in with a ‘successful’ love story.
Even so, Alex was enjoying himself, more or less. It was interesting to talk to the callers, to hear these brave strangers share a snapshot of something important happening in their lives, and try to match up a song with what they were going through. Being such a small station, they had a really limited amount of music to work with, so they couldn’t get it perfect every time, but each song had at least a line or two that worked for the caller. Alex was impressed at how quickly Connor could draw those kinds of parallels and queue up a fitting song, all the while chatting away with the person about whatever it was they’d called in to talk about. Alex himself helped out with matching up some songs, though he was more interested in getting the right tone for the person. If it was a happy story, he wanted to play a cheerful song; if it was sad, it would be a darker one, though also one with a hopeful message woven into it.
Alex actually didn’t do all that much talking, at least not at first. At the start, he’d discuss the caller’s situation with Connor, who mentioned every now and then that he sure was being nice about all this: “Where's that sharp tongue that you wield with all the delicate, destructive grace of a rapier-blade so much of the time?”
“Ugh, what’s with the purple prose?” Alex snorted, waving Connor off, because even though he knew the listeners wouldn’t see it, Connor certainly could. “Anyway, I save my vitriol for people who actually deserve it. Idiots and jackasses who don’t wanna learn to be anything better, or smarter. You know, like you.”
Connor laughed at that, conceding the point, and took the next caller with a huge grin on his face that left Alex shaking his head and wondering if this weird guy was some kind of masochist.
Most of the callers’ stories were romance-related, and about half the time they even wanted advice of some sort, everything from how to best approach someone and ask them out, to whether they should break up with someone, to how they should know if the person they were dating was right for them to marry. Alex, with his distinct lack of romantic experience, found himself at something of a loss for most of those questions, and focused on the music aspect more, though he did listen to Connor’s responses...and actually found himself agreeing most of the time with the older student’s surprisingly thoughtful, reasonable advice.
A stammering freshman called in, asking how to approach the cute girl who he’d had a class with last semester and been unable to bring himself to talk to; Connor told him to be straightforward, to catch her somewhere bright and well-populated, and simply tell her that she’d really left an impression on him, and that he’d like to buy her a coffee and get to know her better some time, if she didn’t mind. If she turned him down, he had to let it go, though--stalking was never good, and being pushy wouldn’t win him any points either, and when it came down to it, even if he had a huge crush on her, he didn’t really know her; a semester ago he hadn’t known she existed, so there was probably another cute girl out there somewhere who would say yes to having coffee with him--he just had to keep moving forward and find her.
Next Connor told a tearful girl to break up with her serial-cheating boyfriend, because she deserved better, and if he didn’t care about her enough to stop hurting her like that, then he didn’t really love her, and he wasn’t worth her time. Things wouldn’t get better the longer she dragged it out, only worse.
“Don’t let him convince you to take him back, either, hon,” Connor warned, surprisingly serious. “Trust me, I’ve been there, and that kind have a lot of trouble changing. It might shake him up for a little while if you walk out on him, but you’re just the fallback plan, and that’s not fair or safe for you. You’re better off letting him go and finding someone who’ll be serious about you, and seriously devoted to you...” Abruptly, his tone changed to a light, bubbly chirp as he added, “You don’t sound like the type, but hey, let me just say that if you’re looking for some fun in the meantime, Dr. Connor is 100% available to be your bad boy rebound.”
Alex made a disgusted noise that his mic thankfully didn’t catch, and quickly started the song he’d chosen for the (in his opinion) unfortunate girl on the line, forcing Connor to hurriedly finish his terrible flirting, to let the song play and the caller go.
“You’re majorly cramping my style, here, man,” Connor whined, but the laughter in his voice belied his words, and Alex shook his head again, slowly.
“...I really don’t get you. Most of the time, you’re just completely full of shit, then you turn around and offer advice like that.”
“Hmm? You mean saying I’ll be her rebound? Because I totally meant it, she sounded super cute-”
“No, don’t play dumb about this. Obviously I mean the rest of it, the actually...sensible stuff you told her.” He dropped his eyes, fidgeting with one of the zippers on his pants as he added, “I didn’t know you had it in you. You almost sounded...like you really cared. About her, a total stranger.”
Connor had gone silent, staring over at Alex with a strangely unreadable expression on his face; before he could respond though, Chisomo’s voice crackled over their headsets, warning them that the song was almost over and a new caller was on the line, ready and waiting. Connor looked over at the booth and nodded his understanding, and a few seconds later, greeted the caller with all his regular over-the-top enthusiasm. Alex stayed quiet, ready to start searching through their database of songs once the caller, a guy this time, had shared enough of his story to give him a general idea of what might be suitable, but this time it wasn’t necessary.
This caller (who definitely sounded as if he’d already had a few drinks, enough to be belligerent) didn’t want advice, he just had a song dedication--one of the most angry, eff-you-bitch songs on the radio these days--but that was only the lead-in to his sob story...which was all about how he’d been ‘friendzoned’.
“Ooh, that’s rough buddy,” Connor said, clearly amused by the guy’s alcohol-fueled ramblings...but with every sullen, bitter word the caller said, Alex found himself getting more and more angry, until he felt as if the very heart sitting in his chest had gone harder and colder than stone, his entire ribcage nothing more than a shatteringly icy sub-zero freezer.
There was no question as to why this caller’s words had struck such a chord with Alex: it was because of Bianca.
He knew that Bianca only saw him as a friend...but he wasn’t about to blame that on her. If that was anyone’s “fault,” then it was his own, not hers--after all, joking flirting aside, he’d only ever been friendly, even though he’d had numerous chances to tell her, to say something about his feelings, to make a move. He hadn’t taken the Jackson Challenge. He hadn’t asked her out, not even on one of those lame group dates that the various dorms tried to pull random people into attending. He hadn’t expressed any sort of feelings like that to her, so...why wouldn’t she think that they were just friends, or that friendship was all he wanted?
But, well. Regardless of whatever else he might want in his secret heart of hearts, her friendship was still what he wanted most of all, so he wasn’t pretending, or lying to her, or trying to get close to her through dishonest means.
He was nothing like this piece of shit they had on the phone right now, who clearly only wanted to sleep with this girl, who didn’t care about her actual feelings, or treating her like another goddamn person.
The caller had rambled on and on about how unfair it was, how awful all her boyfriends were to her, how he was the perfect guy for her and yet somehow she just couldn’t see that, God what was wrong with this bitch-
“...‘Friend-zoned,’ huh.”
Connor was startled at hearing Alex speak up in the first place; but the slow, quiet danger in the other student’s tone was enough to make him shoot a nervous sideways glance over at his guest star, feeling every muscle in his body tense up reflexively.
“ ‘Friend-zoned’...that’s what you’re calling it.”
“That’s what it IS, dude!” the caller declared, his tone that of someone holding an unassailable position of righteous anger, that of the horrendously wronged victim.
Well. They’d just see about that, wouldn’t they.
Alex leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, which Connor had come to recognize as his way of settling in for a good fight. “Okay then, friend, tell me what, exactly, you’ve done to express your interest in dating this girl. Aside from secretly staring at her with super-sad puppy dog eyes and heaving longing sighs every so often.”
A sputtering noise came from the other end of the line, and Alex seized on that moment of weakness with all the viciousness of a wolf bringing down a deer, blood-soaked teeth locked around its raggedly gasping throat. “I mean, if you’re claiming to be ‘friend-zoned’ then surely you’ve told her how you really feel, right?”
“No way, dude! If I did that she wouldn’t want to hang out with me any more! It would be too weird!”
“And hanging out while secretly lusting after someone who has no clue that you’re interested in being more than friends isn’t weird?”
“No! I mean--I don’t know!”
Alex steepled his fingers, looking for all the world like a villain ready to lay out his logic and utterly destroy someone’s whole way of thinking. “Right, so, let me get this straight: you’re bemoaning the fact that this girl you like only sees you as a friend...and yet that’s all you’ve told her that you want to be? You’re blaming her for not liking you, or ‘seeing you as a man,’ or throwing herself at your feet just because you spend time together in a platonic way? Do you not see the problem here?”
“Dude, you don’t even know what’s going on! I was totally there for her when her last asshole boyfriend dumped her! I brought her ice cream and listened to her talk and even sat through some sappy movie marathon with her while she cried her eyes out! And yet she’s never looked my way even once, even though I supported her-”
“-Like a good friend would support someone with a broken heart. Yes. Except, you’re clearly not a good friend, because you don’t even want to be her friend. You apparently want her to want to bang you just because you held out a box of tissues at the right time and pretended to care about her feelings, and listen, ‘dude’, that’s not how things work.”
“Fuck you, man! You don’t know-”
“I know that you’re acting like you’re her friend when you don’t actually want her friendship at all, which kinda makes you a liar. What do you think, Connor?”
Connor, who had been watching Alex closely the whole time, broke out in a laugh that was a little shaky for all its clear amusement. “Man, I am staying WAY out of this one,” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair and throwing up his hands dramatically. “I can take call-in requests and say something funny about it and all, and I can give great love advice, too, but this is too deep for me--this is some Ann Landers bullshit! But-” he added, when Alex rolled his eyes and gave him a withering really, you actually don’t have something to say for once? stare, “I...gotta admit that it does sound a little dishonest. I mean, I know it’s hard to tell someone how you feel, especially when you don’t want to ruin what you’ve got going on already, but...”
“But you still can’t blame this girl for not...what, magically reading your mind and asking YOU out first?” It was Alex’s turn to laugh this time, and it was a mocking, brazen sound. “How full of yourself can you get?”
“I’m not--that’s not--you little shit, who the hell do you think you are?!”
“Wow, you’re reeeeally well-spoken, aren’t you? Gosh, I just don’t have any response for that kind of eloquent argument. You’ve left me completely at a loss.” Alex smirked, and Connor flinched again, though a hint of a thrill ran through him as well at how cold, how vicious his guest star’s smile had become. “Actually, I guess I do have one more thing to add, and I suggest you take this piece of advice to heart: if you’re right and her type is stupid assholes, then maybe you’ve got a chance after all.”
“Aaaand that’s all the time we have for that call, I think!” Connor cut in quickly, “Alex, why don’t you play a song for him-”
“You know, I would, but I don’t think we have a recording of the world’s tiniest violin playing ‘My Heart Bleeds for You’, do we?”
“Alex-! Haha, wow, ooohhh-kay! Thanks for listening to 89.9, Carrington Campus Radio, we’ll be right back after these messages from our sponsors!”
Once their mics were off, Connor leaned back in his chair--and laughed. He laughed so hard that his headset slid off his head and settled down around his neck, and when he finally managed to regain control of himself, he reached over to slap Alex on the side of the arm so hard, it stung for a full five minutes afterwards.
“Oh my God, that was amazing!” he chuckled, wiping a tear out of his eye. “I knew asking you to come on here with me was the right thing to do! I knew that you’d take to it like a fish to water, that you’d be so damn good at it--as long as someone found a way to get under your skin, anyway. Heh, wow,” he snickered, his grin wider than ever as he looked over at Alex, who was giving him a skeptical frown. “Well, here’s hoping that you don’t get in trouble for-”
“Connor.” Chisomo’s calm, even voice came over the room’s speakers, and the senior sat up a little straighter in his chair again as he turned his attention towards her. “You already have two callers on the line who want to talk to Alex, specifically.”
“Hey, if you think I’m gonna let them read him the riot act, I won’t-”
“It is the opposite.”
Connor blinked, looking over at an equally-curious Alex. “What?”
“They are calling in to say that they agree with what he said. Three callers, now. And we have an email--two emails--saying much the same thing, if you would like to read those on-air after the commercial break is over.”
Connor and Alex exchanged another look, and Alex shrugged--it sounded fine to him. It was interesting that saying something live like this could have such an immediate reaction, a nearly instant response. It raised the stakes a little, made it all seem a little more...exciting. Exhilarating. He couldn’t deny that it had felt good, verbally tearing into that jackass, calling him out for his bad behavior. That wasn’t really what Connor’s show was about, though, so Alex hoped he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries too much...but, well, the whole point of it all was entertainment, and if he’d entertained some people with his roast of that moronic man-baby, then he couldn’t be too sorry for it.
In any case, I’m just a guest star. Connor’s apparently got enough of a following that I don’t think I could really mess up his show for good, just by letting one asshole have it.
The rest of the show passed quickly for Alex. There were a few more callers asking for advice and submitting song requests, as well as several people calling or emailing to express their opinions on what Alex had said to ‘The Friendzone Guy’. For the most part, the feedback was positive, though the original caller had tried to call back and cuss them out, and there were half a dozen emails wailing about how awful it was to be stuck in the ‘friendzone’ and that it was a serious problem, as well as two emails and a single call about how mocking the people who called in wasn’t what Connor’s show stood for, what it was supposed to be about. Connor agreed with that one, reminding everyone at the end of the show that Alex was just a guest star who’d been filling in for the captain of the football team, who hadn’t been able to make it that night. Then, he was signing off with a too-cheery, “Dr. Connor will be right here again tomorrow night, waiting to hear more of your stories about loss, luck, and love, ready to give your relationship a close personal exam! Thanks for listening, the doctor is OUT!”
Alex rolled his eyes at that outro, already taking off his headphones and doing his best to put everything away back where it had been when he’d first entered the room. That had been pretty fun, and he was surprised at how tired he was, how physically drained he felt after doing nothing but sitting and talking for a few hours. Even so, it had definitely been eye-opening, a nice insight to a career path he’d never really given much thought. He’d have to see what other interesting things he could do with a Communications degree, and maybe give them a try as well.
“So,” Connor started in with his usual confident, conversational tone as they relaxed in the station break room after the show, “about all that ‘friendzone’ stuff...when exactly are you gonna take your own advice and finally say something to Bianca?”
Alex was quiet for a long moment, staring down at the can of hot coffee in his hands, most of his face hidden by his shaggy hair and the raised hood of his sweatshirt. The silence stretched just long and thin enough that Connor actually started to wonder if he’d said too much, and took a step towards the younger student--at which point Alex raised his head, revealing pale eyes that were clear and resolute.
“I don’t need to take my own advice,” he said calmly, and with utter self-assurance. “I know exactly what it is I feel, and what it makes me want. What I wish I could have.” A wry half-smile quirked one corner of his mouth upwards as he went on, “But I’m different from that caller. Because I might wish I could have more, but I’m content with how things are now.”
“C’mon, man,” Connor cajoled, reaching out to grasp Alex’s shoulders and shake him back and forth a little. “I don’t believe that for a second--I’ve seen how you look at her! You know that can’t be true!”
“What I know is what her answer would be if I did say something,” Alex retorted sharply, leaning away to twist out of Connor’s grasp. “I never expected to make any friends here at all, much less with someone as incredible as she is...” All traces of his previous asperity were gone, replaced by an atypical softness that made it clear who he was seeing in his mind’s eye as he looked down at the break room’s worn black-and-white linoleum. “...Which is why I also know...that I’m lucky enough just to be her friend.” Trying for anything more would just be greedy. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun...
“No offense, but I think that’s a load of crap.”
Alex blinked slowly at the heat and fervor in the taller student’s voice, then lifted his chin with equally unhurried deliberation, his expression a clear oh really now, do tell.
“It’s just like what you told that guy,” Connor snapped, stepping forward to jab a finger into Alex’s chest, who noticed with an absent sort of sideways interest that this was the first time since their meeting in the diner that he’d seen Connor really being genuine, instead of hiding behind either his popular or poised mask. “You’re just acting like you want to be her friend, when really-”
“First of all, fuck you. You don’t know shit about my relationship with Bianca and how much she means to me, because second of all, I really do want to be her friend.” Alex’s grey eyes were steely, his mouth drawn into a tight, angry line as he glared up at Connor. “She is literally the first person in years I’ve wanted to be friends with. I’m not blaming her for anything, or thinking any stupid bullshit like, ‘oh it’s such a tragedy that she’ll never date me when I’m such a fantastic catch!’ ”
Standing, he slugged back the rest of his coffee, not caring that it left his mouth and throat feeling scalded, then hurled the empty can halfway across the little room into the recycling bin. “It’s the opposite. She’s too good for me. She deserves way better than some short, skinny, smart-mouthed jerkoff who hates most people and pushes everyone away on purpose.”
Picking up his bag, Alex slung it over his shoulder, facing Connor squarely, as if ready for a physical fight in addition to this verbal one. “So no,” he said matter-of-factly in a sudden, obviously fake, too-sweet tone, and with a smile to match, “I’m not ever going to ‘take my own advice’ and tell her how I feel. Because her feelings matter too, and I already know that she doesn’t see me that way, and I don’t want to give her any reason to feel guilty or upset about that.”
With one more meaningful glare, and a curt nod of farewell, Alex turned on his heel and walked out of the radio station lounge, leaving a (for once) completely speechless Connor Katou staring after him, eyes wide and jaw hanging open.
READ MORE