While I'm thriving off of the POC sides content I'm getting, I must say one (1) thing:
USE REFERENCES IN YOUR ARTWORK FOR THE POC SIDES. OR REALLY ANY PERSON OF COLOR YOU'RE DRAWING.
THERE'S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DRAWING A BLACK CHARACTER WITH THE FACIAL FEATURES OF THEIR RACE AND DRAWING A WHITE CHARACTER BUT COLORING THEM BROWN
LEARN HOW TO DRAW HAIR. DRAWING AN AFRO OR DREADS AREN'T THE SAME AS DRAWING A CURLY HEAD OF HAIR.
USE REFERENCES. FROM PINTEREST, GOOGLE, WHEREVER. I DON'T HAVE ANY SPECIFIC REFERENCE WEBSITES BUT I DO KNOW THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO DO. EXPLORE WEBSITES, LOOK AT 'HOW-TO'S FROM BLACK ARTISTS WHO KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, I KNOW THAT THERE ARE A BUNCH OF THEM ON TUMBLR.
DIVERSITY IS IMPORTANT AND I'M GLAD THAT THE FANDOM IS RECOGNIZING THAT, BUT THERE'S A MASSIVE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GOOD REPRESENTATION AND COLORING A WHITE CHARACTER IN WITH A BROWN MARKER AND CALLING IT A DAY
And if you're someone who has links to good websites for references of poc, feel free to link 'em on this post! The more informed people can be, the better. I don't want a poc sides revolution that involves Romans who look like they've been sun tanning for 5 years instead of, y'know, poc Roman.
Virgil becomes roommates with Roman. But in a foreign country, with misunderstandings, parties and essays, is there ever a chance of them becoming more?
A super self indulgent fic written by me and beta-ed by @kirimaa :D
Real to Me (A Sanders Sides Princess and the Frog AU) Prologue
First | Next
Summary: Virgil Bast grew up in a poor neighborhood in New Orleans, learning from his family’s work ethic and never once slowing down from the day he could get a job of his own. He’s always been kept company by his best friend, Patton La Bouff, son of the richest man in New Orleans.
Prince Roman of Maldonia has always been surrounded by praise, money, and almost anything he could ever want. Prince Remus, on the other hand, has never really been what you might call the pride of Maldonia.
And the Shadow Man has only ever wanted to punish those who’ve done wrong, helped along by his Friend on the Other Side.
Warnings: None for this chapter! (There will be eventual unsympathetic Janus and Remus, but they get redeemed. There will also eventually be racial prejudice, but no slurs or physical violence.)
Word count: 1644
A/N: Hi, I’d like to preface this fic by saying that I’m not black. Although I am non-white, I also don’t have the same experiences as black people do and therefore cannot do their stories justice the way that they can.
I really debated on how best to write this au, because I want to give the best representation that I possibly can, and I even considered just scrapping it. However, I was really excited about it, and in the end I wanted to provide what representation I can, because as a racial minority myself, I know that some representation (so long as it’s accurate) is better than none at all.
There are no internal monologues about being black in this story, because I don’t know how that would go. I also realize that not all black people share the same exact thoughts/opinions and since I can’t use my own personal experience with racism for this, I figured it best to leave out the internal aspects of it altogether, so that I don’t misrepresent the black community. There is, however, some racism aimed at some of the characters by others. This is something I felt like I could accurately write about, having witnessed and experienced racism myself. The racism is there, presented, and condemned, but I don’t offer much more than that. Discrimination on the basis of race and/or color is something that too many people have faced, and I felt that it was too important to leave out of the story altogether (especially considering it’s part of why Tiana struggled to get her restaurant in the movie itself).
If you made it this far, thanks for reading!! This is something I’ve worked hard on, and I really hope you enjoy it! This first chapter is going to be mostly characterization and setting up the rest of the story, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
Without further ado, I give you Real to Me!
“Just at that moment, the ugly little frog looked up with his sad, round eyes and pleaded, ‘Oh, please, dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this terrible spell that was inflicted on me by a wicked witch!’”
Virgil felt Patton lean over to him to loudly whisper, “Here comes my favorite part!” Virgil mentally prepared himself for what he knew was coming next.
“And the beautiful princess was so moved by his desperate plea that she stooped down,” Patton was leaning in now, “picked up the slippery creature,” Virgil was leaning away, “and kissed that little frog!”
Pat gave a squeal of delight and grabbed the cat that was walking by, squeezing it so tightly its eyes seemed to pop out. All while Virgil was dramatically sticking his tongue out as far as he could.
That was one thing about his friend that Virgil would never understand. How could Patton possibly think that the story was anything but unrealistic and unsanitary? The princess could’ve contracted some disease! Or maybe the frog was lying and he wasn’t even a prince?! Who came up with those stories?? He needed to have a talk with them.
“...and they lived happily ever after!”
He heard Patton sigh with delight before looking at Virgil’s mama with pleading eyes. “Will you read it again Mrs. Bast?”
“Sorry, honey, we’d better be heading home,” she said with a kind smile. “Say goodbye Virgil.”
“There is no way I’d ever ever EVER kiss a frog. Yuck,” Virgil ranted as he gathered his things from around the room.
“Even if he turned into a prince after?” Patton asked.
Virgil nodded hard. “Especially if he turned into a prince. Princes are just rich boys who do nothing all day but ride on their horses and dance with pretty ladies. I’d have to do all his work for him!”
“Nuh-uh!! Princes are brave, and polite, and after you’re married, they only dance with you!” Pat defended.
“You don’t kn-!”
“Evening Eudora!” Patton’s daddy called as he turned into the room.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Pat jumped up and down excitedly. “Look at my new dress!!” He twirled around to show off the fluffy, sky blue gown Eudora had sewn for him.
“Why, I’d expect nothing less from the finest seamstress in New Orleans!”
“Well thanks, Mr. La Bouff,” Eudora Bast replied. “Sorry to leave so soon after seeing ya, but we’d best be heading out now.”
Virgil vaguely heard Mr. La Bouff give his well-wishes to his mama as Pat was walking over to say, “What if the prince wasn’t lazy and boring? Would you marry him then?”
“I’d only marry him if he wasn’t just some prince in a book,” Virgil stated matter-of-factly. “He has to be a real person that I can talk to.”
“Well duh, silly! You can’t marry a book!” the blond boy laughed.
“Virgil! It’s time to go home baby, your daddy should be home by now,” Eudora called to him.
He ran over to where his mama was standing in the wide, elegant doorway and shouted, “Bye Patton!”
“Bye Virge!!”
~
Virgil always liked the ride home. He could watch the other people on the tram, and wonder what they’re like, and stare out the window at the fuzzy streetlights in the distance. Plus he got to lean his head on his mama’s shoulder and feel the tram rock side to side. It made him feel safe.
When they got near their neighborhood, Eudora whispered, “Go ahead and pull the cord.”
Virgil waved goodbye to the driver as he hopped off the tram and onto the sidewalk. He looked up at his mama as they walked down the street. “Why does Pat wanna marry a prince so bad? He’s already a prince, pretty much.”
“I don’t know sweetheart.” The lights made his mama’s face look so warm. “Maybe he wants to make it official. You could ask him sometime.”
“No,” Virgil said thoughtfully, “I think I’ll just help him find his prince. Oh! That can be his birthday present this year!!”
Eudora laughed lightly and smiled down at him. “I think that’s a great idea, hon.”
Voices rang out from houses along the streets, and Virgil could see families laughing together through some of the glowing windows. The two of them stepped up to the old, brown house and the door that creaks when you open it. As soon as he stepped inside, Virgil smelled the most amazing gumbo in the world, the kind only his daddy could make. He could almost taste it in the air. That, in combination with the yellow light coming from the kitchen and his daddy’s heavy, brown coat draped over the living room chair made Virgil feel like there was a fire in his chest, the kind that you have at Christmas.
“Daddy! We’re home!!”
Mr. Bast looked over his shoulder at the two coming inside, and smiled big. “Hey, Virge! I’m almost done chopping veggies, you wanna help me finish?”
“Yeah!! Can I taste it?” the boy asked as he dragged a chair over to the old stove.
“I’d be hurt if you didn’t,” James joked, helping him up. “How ‘bout you put these peppers in?”
After they’d let the ingredients stew in the pot for a while, Virgil put the wooden spoon to his mouth and his daddy asked, “How’s it taste?”
“Hmm…” Virgil tapped his chin a bit before quickly sliding to the floor, running over to the cupboard, and grabbing a bottle of tabasco. He dashed back over to the pot and shook in some of the sauce. “There! Try it!” The curly-haired boy handed the spoon over to his dad. He laughed as his daddy made a big show of tasting it.
“Mmm, now that has to be the best gumbo I ever tasted!” James grabbed Virgil under the arms and swung him to the ground. “Why don’t you go with your mama to call the neighborhood over? I’ll grab the pot.”
Virgil slid out of his daddy’s arms and nodded before running to the door. He flung it open and shouted as loud as he could, “Hey, everybody! I made gumbo!!” His mama reached where he was standing on the porch and stood behind him proudly, while the neighbors greeted him with “Woo! That smells good!” and he replied with “I made it almost all by myself! My daddy helped a little though.” Mr. Bast spooned out some gumbo into everyone’s bowls, and one by one they picked up their spoons.
It was quiet for a little, the kind that happens when your family’s sat around the table and it’s been a long day, but now you get to eat something and it barely even matters what it is because you’re all eating it in the same place at the same time. Then, though, people start saying things like “Mm-mm-mmm!!” and “this is fantastic Virgil, you must’ve gotten your daddy’s talent.” He could barely stop smiling long enough to chew. (His mama didn’t say anything about chewing with his mouth closed.) (This time.)
~
That night, when Virgil snuggled under his covers, he was smiling. He felt his mama sitting down on the bed by his feet. James was standing right next to her.
“You know the thing about good food?” Virgil looked up at his daddy. “It brings folks together from all walks of life. It warms them right up and it puts little smiles on their faces.” He tapped Virgil’s cheeks when he said it. James pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and showed it to Virgil, a drawing of a beautiful golden room with fancy tables and soaring ceilings. There were lots of people in the picture, musicians and waiters and diners with nice clothes and big feathers. “When I open up my restaurant, I tell you, people are going to line up for miles around just to get a taste of my food.”
Virgil sat up at that. “Our food.”
“That’s right, baby. Our food,” his daddy laughed and handed him the picture. The boy held it gently in his hands, like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Suddenly, Virgil got up and said, “Oh, look!” He stared out the window.
“What is it, hon?” Eudora craned her head to see what he was looking at.
“Patton’s fairy tale book said if you wish on a star, it’s sure to come true!”
James smiled at him and said gently, “Well, you wish on that star. You dream with all your heart. But remember, Virge, that star can only take you part of the way.” Virgil looked away from the star and back at his daddy. “You’ve got to help it along with some hard work of your own, and then, yeah, you can do anything you set your mind to. Just promise me one thing.” Virgil held his eyes. “That you’ll never, ever lose sight of what’s really important. Okay?” He nodded hard, twice, just to be sure his daddy knew he was serious.
His mama reached over to rub the tight black curls on his head. “See you in the morning, baby.”
“Get some sleep,” James told him.
“G’night,” Virgil whispered as he snuggled deeper into bed.
When the door closed, he hopped up again and went to the window. He could still find the star he had been looking at earlier — it was the brightest, and almost in the very middle of the sky. Almost like it was standing on a stage, waiting to be seen. Virgil closed his eyes and held the drawing to his chest. “I wish, I wish, I wish…”
Rrrrrribbit.
Virgil slowly turned to see the frog on the windowsill.
If he screamed, it was nobody’s business. (His mama and daddy were lucky enough to enjoy his company that night.)
~
A/N: Ok so I realize that it’s a lot of just quoting the movie, but I liked the way they set it up so I figured why fix it if it’s not broken right? But from here on, the characters deviate more from those of the movie, so the dialogue will be a whole lot more of my own :) it’ll be a lot more interesting next chapter, I promise. (And Virgil will be grown next time.)
Chapter Title: Seasonal Equivalent (August) - Chapter One
~~~
Summary: Virgil moves in with the three people he eventually learned to call friends. And good friends at that. It seems to be a good start to his Sophomore year of college. Really, what could go wrong?
Warnings: Scars, Nightmares, PTSD, Hate Crimes (statistic mention) -if needed- message me for more details-
~~~
Seasonal Equivalent (August) - Chapter One
~~~
August 11, 2019
-
Virgil huffed and placed the heavy box on the floor.
“I swear your arm probably isn’t even broken,” he complained loudly, specifically using the tone he reserved for whining about Roman.
Roman just smirked from where he was sitting on the couch. The couch that they had moved into the apartment but had yet to place in the right spot.
“I mean it is broken, but I do get the cast off next week,” Roman pointed out as he kicked his shoes off. His golden skin shone in the light and was even more tan than usual after the bright summer months.
“And you couldn’t of just waited another week to move in?” Virgil complained loudly as he brushed a hand through his curls.
Roman shrugged before hopping off the couch to open the box Virgil had hauled up.
Virgil didn’t really mind helping Roman move, it was just a long, sweaty process. Especially since he was wearing a long sleeve shirt in the heat. At least he had forgone his usual jacket.
“You did look pretty funny trying to come up the stairs with that thing,” Roman remarked, as he opened the box, “I thought you would take the elevator.”
Virgil stared at him for a second before dropping onto the carpet and sprawling across it.
“There’s an elevator?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling with his eyes wide. Trixie walked over and sniffed at him, before pawing at him and wagging her tail.
“Of course there’s an elevator. You thought Patton was going to live in an apartment with just stairs?”
Virgil tilted his head as he thought about the question.
“Good point,” he muttered, “but then why did Logan and I have to carry the couch up the stairs?”
“Virgil, it’s a couch, it didn’t fit in the elevator.”
Virgil just rolled over and groaned into the floor. The floor that was probably pretty disgusting, but whatever, he was too miserable to complain. Trixie just continued to nudge at him playfully.
He grinned a bit at the action, inwardly laughing as she showed more of her playfulness now that she was off duty. He turned to make a face at her and her tail thumped against the carpet as she crouched down.
“Trixie, be a good girl and fetch the movies please?” Roman asked. Virgil turned to his back at the comment, looking at his roommate.
Trixie sat up and looked at Roman. She thumped her tail and cocked her head.
“The movies Trix,” he said, gesturing to the giant pile.
The dog walked over to him and gave him a few kisses. In response, Roman pet her as Virgil sat up.
“Virgil, your dog isn’t as well trained as you said she was,” Roman told him, even a he continued to shower Trixie with attention and love.
Virgil scoffed, and sat fully up, folding his legs underneath him.
“Yes she is,” he insisted, “She just doesn’t know what your asking. Watch.”
Virgil turned to Trixie.
“Trixie, Watch Me,” he called.
The dogs attention immediately turned to him and her tail stilled. Her focus was immediately on Virgil, ignoring all other distractions around her, waiting for his commands.
“Clean Up,” he called.
Trixie looked at the floor, sniffing before selecting one of the movies. She then trotted toward Virgil and released the disc when he held out his hand for it.
“All Done,” Virgil told her.
The seriousness that she had exhibited just moments before dropped and she flopped to her side to beg for belly rubs.
Virgil held up the case in triumph as his other hand dropped to give her the desired pets. Roman was staring at the two of them.
“That’s still so cool. Okay Trix-”
“You are not using my dog to pick up your mess,” Virgil said, cutting him off. Roman groaned and stared at the pile. Virgil just threw the movie at him. Roman yelped when it made contact and immediately began to rub the location as if it had been some great wound instead of a slight tap.
“What are you two doing?” A voice from behind them said suddenly.
Virgil jumped a bit, hand going to his chest as he whipped his head around to face the intruder.
“Sorry,” Logan apologize, stepping more into the room. Patton was right behind him, leaning on his cane.
Virgil just waved Logan’s apology off as his heart steadied in rhythm.
“We’re uh, unpacking?” Roman offered. Logan just snorted, taking in the scene in front of him.
Both Roman and Virgil were on the floor, neither moving or being productive.
Trixie was also looking decidedly lazy, spread out on her side on the floor, belly showing and vest off. Patton walked over to give her some belly rubs, his hands easily finding her favorite spots and setting her tail off on a wagging spree once more.
Logan, on the other hand, turned to stare at the mess of movies on the floor, especially the case that looked slightly slobbered on. He just shook his head at the two of them. Virgil could only hope it was found exasperation.
“Virgil can you and Roman move the couch to where it should go? I just need to bring up one more box,” Logan requested.
“Can’t,” Roman said waving his arm with the cast to remind the other.
Logan sighed, “Alright,” he agreed before turning back to Virgil, “Virgil, just wait, when I come back up we can move-”
“I can do it,” Patton piped up from where he was still petting Trixie.
“Patton, you mentioned that you were quite a bit of pain today. It’s no problem, just give me a minute.”
Patton paused in his petting, and stood up, wincing as he used his cane for assistance. He was wearing overalls over a light colored shirt today, contrasting his deep oak skin.
“No really, it’s fine,” he insisted.
Logan hesitated, but nodded, before retreating to grab the last of the things.
At his exit, Virgil himself stood, both him and Patton walking over to the couch. They counted to three before lifting it and slowly carried it to sit in a more centered spot of the living room. It wasn’t perfect and they would probably have to move it again once they got more settled, but at least it was in the general area of where it was supposed to be, as well as being out of the way.
Once they were done, Roman immediately flopped onto it. He laid down with a sigh, only moving his feet to allow Patton to join him. Virgil frowned at the action.
“Uh no, Roman you did nothing, get up.”
Roman pretended to snore, ignoring Virgil. Virgil growled softly and reached over to push him off the couch. He shoved hard and Roman barely managed to grab on in time to avoid a painful collision with the ground. Virgil shot him a glare and he scooted off, relinquishing the seat. Virgil flopped onto it and sighed happily as Roman crawled over to the chair next to the couch.
“You could’ve just taken the chair,” Roman pouted.
“It’s lumpy,” Virgil said with a smirk.
“Personally, I chair-ish the opportunity to sit on it,” Patton quipped.
Both of them groaned just as Logan rejoined them.
“Puns?” Logan asked.
“Furniture ones,” Virgil said, twisting to look at him.
“Please no. I don’t want to be apartment this,” Logan said with a sigh.
“Couldn’t of said it bedder myshelf,” Roman pitched in.
They all turned to look at Virgil expectantly.
The lanky boy sighed and shrugged.
“We moved,” he offered.
“That’s not a pun,” Logan pointed out.
“I know.”
“You’re gonna make Patton sad,” Roman told him.
Virgil looked over at his friend, who was giving him a pouty grin. He clasped his eyes together and made his eyes wider.
“I’ll let you know I’m invincible to puppy dog eyes, I have to resist Trixie’s on the daily,” he reminded them. They all sighed.
“We’ll get you eventually,” Patton promised.
“Sure you will,” Virgil dismissed.
~~~
August 18, 2019
-
“YO! Everyone up! It’s the last day of summer vacation and I’m not letting any of you waste it!” Roman shouted.
Virgil jerked awake at the yell before groaning and slamming a pillow over his head. While Roman’s shouting had been muffled by the wall, it had still been way too loud.
“You have ten minutes!” he warned.
Fuck. He should get out of bed. Roman would follow through with whatever more convincing methods he had thought of if Virgil refused. He shuddered to think about the numerous incidents before. He liked to believe that he had learned his lesson.
Twelve and a half minutes later and they all sat at the table, some looking more awake than others. Meaning, Roman was fully aware and the rest were half asleep.
Logan had his headphones on and was fiddling with his watch, not touching the pancakes Roman had prepared as a courtesy. Virgil on the other hand, was eating them, but each bite was vicious as he stabbed at the pancakes. Roman frowned at said pancakes, seemingly concerned. Good. Virgil had written Roman’s name in syrup on the pancakes before cutting into them with vengeance. Finally, Patton, whose head was propped up by one hand and drooling slightly onto his food.
“Good morning everyone,” Roman greeted cheerfully, pulling his gaze away from Virgil’s pancakes.
Patton shot up from where he had started to doze off.
“Roman,” he cheered, “I’m ready for this pan-tastic day,” he said, gesturing to the pancakes.
Virgil and Logan continued to sit in silence
“Surly Temple, Microsoft Nerd, you with us?”
Virgil just glared, but Logan gave a nod and nudged one of the corners of his headphones off his ear. Roman just shrugged, seemingly satisfied enough.
“Good,” he clapped his hands together, “We’re going to campus. They’re putting on a game thing, and we’re entered as a team.”
“Seriously,” Virgil groaned, “You couldn’t, uh I dunno, ask us, first? You just assumed we would want to do it? Who gave you the right to choose for us?” Virgil bit out.
Roman leaned back and blinked. Patton and Logan both turned to look at their angry roommate. The roommate who immediately realized what he had done.
“Shit, sorry Roman. It actually doesn’t sound bad, I just didn’t sleep well.”
Which was the truth. Virgil never slept well in the first place, and last night he had some sort of nightmare he couldn’t quite remember the contents of. All he knew was that he woke up shivering and near tears with Trixie on his chest before drifting off again.
“Oh. Okay. Well, you don’t have to do it,” Roman replied, tone meek.
“No, no, I want to,” Virgil confirmed, “I just- I’m a dick. Thanks for setting this up. I just don’t like surprises, they make me anxious.”
“Right, no more surprises in the future.”
“Thanks.”
“So, what is this ‘game’ thing?” Logan asked.
Roman shrugged.
“I don’t really know, we’ll find out! But we head out in,” Roman checked the clock, “fifteen minutes, so be ready to go.”
The three roommates stared at him.
“What?” Roman said frowning.
“You couldn’t have told us earlier?” Virgil yelped, before all three of them darted off to get ready. Oh well, might as well get into the school scramble a day early.
-
“I thought you said you signed us up?” Virgil asked when they reached the line for sign-ins.
He was looking decidedly out of place in his thick hoodie. Almost everyone around them wore summer clothing, from t-shirts to sports bras to even less. But whatever, being hot was better than showing off his scars. He had barely become comfortable going without long sleeves in the presence of his roommates as is. And he still refused to wear shorts around them regularly.
“I did,” Roman confirmed.
“The sign says groups of five to eight,” Virgil said, pointing at one of the many large signs up front.
“Yep,” he agreed
“There’s four of us.”
“Trixie is our fifth.”
Logan and Patton snorted as Virgil gaped.
“What?” he asked.
Roman shrugged, “It said nothing about being human, just that whoever was entering had to have valid ID and be affiliated with the school.”
Logan hummed and added, “Ah, I see, technically, Trixie should qualify. She has a school ID. And Trixie is technically affiliated with the school so,” Logan just shrugged and Roman grinned.
“True!” Patton perked up, “This is going to be great! We get the best team member!”
Patton shot an excited grin at the dog. Trixie just ignored him, keeping her attention on Virgil.
“You do realize that while Trixie does have an ID, that doesn’t mean I have to carry it with me? It’s illegal to ask me to provide proof of her being a service dog. They can only ask if she is one, and what tasks and function she performs” Virgil commented drily.
“Yes Negative Nancy, we know. Now did you bring her ID or not?” Roman asked.
“You told me to bring my ID. I keep her’s with mine.”
Of course Virgil carried it. He may not need it, but what if he did.
“Yes!” Patton said, jumping up in excitement.
Logan offered a small grin as well.
“Trixie girl get ready for a long day,” Virgil warned.
-
The games were pretty cheesy, but super hyped up, and even though the group got out in the sixth round- stupid fucking egg walk- they enjoyed the time they got to participate.
“Okay but Lo, how are you that good at cornhole? Patton asked as they made their way back.
Logan shrugged.
“My sister was obsessed with it in eighth grade.”
“But Patton, the better question, you and Virgil with spikeball?” Roman asked, shock coloring his words.
Patton blushed at the praise.
“Anxiety and PTSD equals either super fast reflexes or no reflexes. Fight, flight, or freeze. You just got lucky today,” Virgil explained with a half shrug.
“I personally enjoyed when we played tug-of-war,” Logan commented with a slight smirk.
The other three broke out in giggles.
“When Trixie just yanked as hard as she could-”
“And the other team fell over-”
“Beautiful.”
~~~
August 27, 2019
-
“Ugh,” Virgil muttered as he walked into the apartment, kicking his shoes off. He immediately went to the couch and flopped onto it, groaning into a pillow.
“Virgil, all you alright?” called a voice from behind him.
Virgil just groaned louder but provided the voice belonging to Logan a thumbs up.
“Long day?” Logan asked.
Virgil finally sat up and turned to look at his friend.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Virgil agreed.
“What happened.”
“I have a fifteen page report due.”
“And have you started?”
“I mean yes,” Virgil hedged.
Logan provided nothing in response and continued to look at a point near Virgil’s chin.
“But I’ve only written two pages,” he admitted.
Logan just stared at him and shook his head slowly. Great the disappointed face.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Logan said, gesturing to the door.
“Uh, what?” Virgil asked, brain way too tired to make whatever connection it was supposed to be making.
“Well Patton’s at the library until late. Roman has play practice. That leaves the two of us. And considering you have a fifteen page paper due and I have nothing, it only makes sense for me to help you.”
“You don’t have to help me,” was Virgil’s automatic response. He would never let anyone make even the tiniest of sacrifices for him. It was a bit of an issue.
“Virgil, I don’t mind,” Logan insisted.
Virgil hesitated for a moment, but the anxiety of not finishing the paper beat out the anxiety of accepting help.
“Okay,” Virgil agreed. But then, “And not that I don’t appreciate your help, because I do, please help me, but why are we leaving the apartment?”
“To get pastries,” Logan said simply.
“To get-” Virgil repeated, before snapping out of it, “What, why?”
“Well, you don’t drink coffee.”
Virgil shuttered at the thought. And he thought his anxiety was bad as is. Mix in caffeine? Yeah, that was a definite no.
“So pastries instead. It was just what came to mind.”
Virgil shrugged and stood.
“Okay,” he agreed, walking towards the door and grabbing Trixie’s leash, “Let’s go.”
-
“I took a similar course last year,” Logan commented as they sat down to start, now with pastries, “It was interesting.”
“Yeah, religion is fascinating. When it’s not kicking my ass.”
“Hmm,” Logan agreed before pulling out his computer. Virgil sighed but did the same, pulling up the document that was much too short.
“Are you sure you want to help?” Virgil asked for what had to be the billionth time.
Logan had said yes, but what if he didn’t really mean it? What if Virgil was doing something that was making him agree without even knowing he was doing it? Could he be somehow manipulating Logan into doing something he didn’t want to? Logan had to have better things to do, why was he helping him?
“Oh, it’s no problem. Again, it’s interesting.”
“Okay, you’ll need a Bible- Shit I only have one,” he realized.
“No worries, I have one as well,” Logan said as he stood.
“You’re religious?” Virgil asked, looking up at his roommate with a frown, “I thought you were atheist?”
“Oh, no,” Logan answered with a shake of his head before leaving the room without another word.
“But-” Virgil said softly then just sighed. He would wait until Logan came back to ask his questions.
Logan, of course, reappeared a minute later with a Bible in hand. The exact version they were using for his class as well.
“Oh, did you have it for your class last year?” Virgil asked. Logan had said he had taken the class, so it would certainly make sense if he had the book still.
“What?” Logan said with a frown.
“The Bible,” Virgil clarified, gesturing at the object.
Logan looked down at it with a small frown, studying the front of it.
“Oh no,” he explained, eyes still latched to the cover, “I got it last year when I learned that Roman was Muslim.”
“Uh, Logan, it’s a Bible,” Virgil said carefully. After all, Virgil knew Logan was an atheist, but it was unlike the man to get such a significant fact mixed up.
“Yes.”
“Roman is Muslim.”
“Yes.”
Yeah, there was no more dodging this.
“Well, the Islamic holy book is the Qur’an.”
“I know. I also purchased a copy of the Qur’an. As well as the Torah, even though it should, theoretically, be the same as the Old Testament from the Bible,” Logan was quick to answer.
“Why?” Virgil asked.
“Why are they the same?”
“No, why did you buy all three of those.”
“Oh, well Judaism, Islam, and Christianity all revolve around a shared belief in a common deity. I thought that if Roman and I were going to be friends, I could at least educate myself on his religion and the religions that surrounded it.
“In addition, you are Jewish, even if you don’t really practice the religion itself.
“I haven’t actually read any of them all the way through, but the parts I have have been enlightening. Not that I would say I am religious, even after reading the texts. I still consider myself an atheist. I merely found them interesting.”
Virgil could only stare a bit in response. Logan had done that for Roman? Sure, Virgil had done some google searches and looked up a few keywords and phrasing to understand his friend better and not be a complete ass on accident.
He’d also looked a bit into the amount of hate crimes committed against Muslim Americans, which had been quite high and quite disturbing. He may or may not have had nightmares about the fact that together he and Roman fit into the top three groups most likely to have hate crimes committed against them in the United States. Turns out being Jewish or Muslim was bad enough. Add being gay to being Jewish or Muslim and it got a lot worse.
And Logan- who had never been religious himself- had gone out of his way to read and study three incredibly hard texts that held no value to him besides the fact that his friends found them of some importance.
“You’re a really good friend, you know that Logan?”
Virgil’s voice was soft but true and Logan blushed and adjusted his glasses.
“I- thank you Virgil. Now the paper?”
“Yes, right,” Virgil muttered, refocusing on his computer. They had a lot of work to do.
