The room still looks kind of bare after he's done unpacking, but he has a room all to himself and it has windows and a desk and maybe he can have books. He flops on the bed until lunchtime, and this time he knows not to try and ask Charlotte questions.
The bed is big and soft and excellent and he still can't sleep alone; he keeps reaching out for Nat or Nico and not finding them and waking up and then remembering where he is and wondering how they are and whether they're eating and whether they're okay and then struggling to get back to sleep. There continues to be plenty of food; Sasha doesn't stop storing away parts for later, just in case.
Computers are weird. He figures out how to use it, slowly. Safety Rules for the Internet contains lots of very obvious advice about not giving personal information to strangers in chatrooms (as if he'd trust someone that quickly anyway) and almost nothing about how the hell you find what you're looking for, but it's better than nothing. Auradon in general is weird. Apparently people who look like men don't wear skirts here, and when they do they wear very flamboyant almost villain-kid-ish makeup and lots of shiny things and use women's names.
Charlotte takes him shopping for new clothes and he can't stop staring at how big everything is, how bright and soft and clean and colorful, how much of everything — most of the people he knows only have one real set of clothes, and when he and Charlotte are done he has more soft whole undamaged fabric in his arms than he thought he'd ever see. (Sasha doesn't ask for skirts, even if they would look pretty when he twirled in them, which he's very sure they would.)
He eats. He eats more than he had ever imagined he would be able to. Auradon might be bizarre and lonely, but it's colorful and bright and soft and there's enough to eat and nobody tries to stab him or punch him or steal from him, and so he's pretty happy with it.