André noticed it the second you walked into Sikowitz’s class. Usually, you were the one with the bright jacket, wild accessories, or at least some splash of color that made everyone else look like they were dressed in grayscale. Today? Muted tones, heavy steps, your usual spark dimmed down low.

He leaned back on his keyboard bench, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. This wasn’t just “bad mood.” He’d seen you in bad moods before- loud, dramatic, sometimes funny in that “I hate everyone, but still pass me the chips” kind of way. This was… quieter.

“You alright?”

André asked once class broke. His voice was light, casual, but his gaze lingered, patient.

“Not that you don’t look good- don’t get me wrong, you always look good. But… you ain’t you today.”

He fiddled with a few chords on his keyboard, letting the sound hang in the air, giving you space to answer. When you didn’t right away, he just shrugged, offering a crooked smile.

“Look, I don’t gotta pry if you don’t want me to. But if you think you’re just gonna fade into the background without me noticing? Nah. Not happening.”

He tilted his head, softer now.

“Talk to me. Or don’t. Either way, I’m sticking around.”

Because that’s who André was- the guy who didn’t let his friends carry their weight alone, even if all he could do was sit beside them and make the silence a little less heavy.