One Of Us

Chapter Five

"Honestly, Anxiety," Roman had said, staring down at the steps with both hands on his hips. "It's like you get a kick out of shooting me down!"

"Maybe I do," Virgil said. He was sitting cross-legged on his landing in the commons, pretending to scroll through tumblr while Roman berated him. It was like the guy had no better way to spend his time lately. (Sure, Virgil had pushed his buttons while they filmed, but he hadn't technically done anything to bother him since they'd finished. Lately, just his presence seemed like enough to set someone off.)

Logan leaned into the room over the dividing wall that separated it from the kitchen, and both of them shot him a look. "I thought we had reached a consensus on originality," he said. "Has this debate not been resolved?"

"Of course it's been resolved," Roman said. He pointed pithily at the indifferent Side to his left. "But someone doesn't want to accept the fact that he lost."

"Lost the battle, not the war."

"Since when are we at war?"

Want me to pull out a calendar? I've got the date marked down.

"It's been hours, you two," Patton said from the sofa. If Virgil wasn't mistaken, he almost sounded tired. "Thomas was perfectly happy with the way we ended the video. Why don't we break it up?"

That wasn't true. Thomas wasn't happy, he was settling. He was... complacent. They'd reached a soft, cushy resolution with way too much room for improvement, and the uncertainty of it all was off putting for Virgil and nobody else.

"I'm not trying to fight," he said, even though he totally was. Wear them down, he thought. "He brought this on himself."

"Goodness gracious," Roman sighed. "Could you stop being such a Debbie Downer for once?"

Virgil chuckled blandly at his phone. "As if that'd make you hate me less."

"He doesn't hate you!" Patton said, and everyone jumped at the sheer volume of his interjection. He gave the prince a meaningful pair of raised eyebrows that didn't seem to be earning him the response he wanted. "Right, Roman?"

"Don't try and spare his feelings," Roman said, turning toward him, and Patton rubbed uncomfortably at the back of his neck. "It's not like he cares about ours."

Patton's eyes shifted toward Virgil's for an instant, then cut away — in that tiny fragment of time, Virgil swore he could feel his stomach evaporate. Did Patton really... did he agree with Roman?

Of course he did. Why wouldn't he? Wasn't that the point of all this?

"This bickering is highly unconstructive," Logan said.

"Anxiety is unconstructive," Roman groused.

"Roman!" Patton said, finally jumping up off the couch. "Would you stop that?"

"All I'm saying," Roman said, very clearly avoiding the question, "is that he should stop being such a grouch about my objectively brilliant ideas."

"That statement was not at all objective," Logan pointed out.

"I'd be thrilled to," Virgil said, ignoring him. "Once they stop being terrible." He set his phone face down on the carpet beside him and looked up. Eye contact, he thought. Psych him out.

Unfortunately, Princey had a much stronger gaze than he had anticipated; not for the first time, Virgil felt about two inches tall under his stare, so he covered up the feeling with a smirk.

"Ugh, I have had it with you!" Roman exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You think my artistic visions are laughable, do you? Well, I'm not quite sure what your criteria are, Han Woe-lo."