Jean-Paul tries to avoid 'The Bugle'. While his opinion on the paper's editor tends to range from neutral to grudging agreement, he can't stand their entertainment section and he tries to avoid American politics if he can help it at all. Someone has left the paper on his desk when he comes in to hold office hours. They have also been kind enough to fold it open to the 'Letters to the Editor' section
( ... )
"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit..." Victor mutters to himself as he comes into his room at lunch time, forgetting to close the door behind him. He strips off his clothes, throws on his pj's and goes under the covers.
"They're GOING to kill me." He yells out from under his duvet. "Note to self, never write anything ever again, while pissed off." He is writing off the rest of the day, he's not going to anymore of his classes. Call it a mental health day. He's sure he's going to spend the next month is detention because of this, might as skip the rest of the day, it's not like he can get in anymore trouble then he's already in.
A few minutes later, an envelope slides under Victor's door. It contains his letter -- clipped from the newspaper and corrected here and there in red ink -- as well as a single sheet of the school's stationary.
'Victor,
If you ever feel the need to discuss this, you know where my office is. If I am not in, you can reach me here: 555 - XXXX.
Paras entered the room, as his usual schedule demanded. He was so busy with school lately there'd been no time left over for much socialization. So it came as a bit of surprise when he walked in to find Victor stashed under the covers.
At first he'd thought to creep in, get what the supplies he needed for the second half of the day, and then creep back out. However, the sight of his typically outgoing friend hiding away from the world proved just too unsettling.
Vic upon hearing Paras, debated with himself about pretending he was sleeping, but in the end, the drama queen part of his personality comes out in full force, as he lets out a lout dramatic sigh, and folds the blankets back.
"No!" He almost shouts, and pulls the blankets back in their position over his head.
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"They're GOING to kill me." He yells out from under his duvet. "Note to self, never write anything ever again, while pissed off." He is writing off the rest of the day, he's not going to anymore of his classes. Call it a mental health day. He's sure he's going to spend the next month is detention because of this, might as skip the rest of the day, it's not like he can get in anymore trouble then he's already in.
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'Victor,
If you ever feel the need to discuss this, you know where my office is. If I am not in, you can reach me here: 555 - XXXX.
Mr. Beaubier'
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At first he'd thought to creep in, get what the supplies he needed for the second half of the day, and then creep back out. However, the sight of his typically outgoing friend hiding away from the world proved just too unsettling.
"Vic," he queried, softly, "Are you alright?"
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"No!" He almost shouts, and pulls the blankets back in their position over his head.
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