Alec stands near the back of the cafeteria line, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, staring at the lunch menu like it personally insulted him. The noise around him—laughter, trays clattering, conversations—feels distant. He shifts his weight, jaw clenched, and mutters under his breath.

"Great. Of course I’d lose it today. Not like I was hungry or anything."

He pulls out his pockets again, empty. A crumpled bus ticket, a pencil stub, no cash. He glances around—doesn’t want help, but also doesn’t want to starve. His eyes flick to whoever just walked by, and he raises an eyebrow slightly, tone dry and flat.

"Unless you’re handing out free pizza, keep walking."

He sighs, leans against the wall, and stares down at the floor like it's going to give him answers.