It's been two months since Alex started at Kings College, and things were going great. He'd meet several people who he now considered his friends, two of which were his roommates though Aaron still didn't say much. Another was a nice young Frenchman everyone called Lafayette, since his name was far too long to really completely remember, unless you had it written down someplace (which Alex did). Since Alex and Thomas were fluent in French, they enjoyed having conversations no one understood exactly the three of them.

  Though, with friends, come enemies and Charles Lee fell into that very category. Thomas had found Alexander beaten and bloody several times, and every time, Alex refused to got to the hospital, saying "It's not that bad, really, Tommy." or "I've been through worse, believe me." never bothering to elaborate even when pressed to do so.

  All and all, Hamilton would say he was having a fairly good life. But he always felt as though something was missing, something important that he shouldn't have to go through life without, but he could never put his finger on what it was.

  After another day of classes, Alex and 'Tommy' (as the aforementioned like to call him) made their way back to their dorm, expecting a evening of relaxing and perhaps video game playing, or binging Netflix as Alexander worked on either things that were due in a few weeks, or something for fun, on his newish blog.

But he wasn't expecting a message on that very blog.