Yawn. "No big. I live this way."

He has to type in a code on the keypad to get in the building and open his apartment with a key. The place is sparsely furnished - cinderblock bookshelf, mattress on a boxspring with threadbare sheets, two heaps of clothes in opposite corner, wobbly desk and wobbly chair. There is a teeny kitchen and a teenier bathroom. Dylan rummages in a clothes heap. "Damn, I thought my sweatpants were clean. Uh, the khakis might be short on you but they should do well enough." He throws a pair of pants at Fëanáro and goes looking in his desk drawers for quarters.

He closes his eyes and puts on the pants and sings.

"Dude change in the BATHROOM."

" - okaay."

"No being naked in front of people unless you're sleeping with them and I do not swing that way." He points at the bathroom.

"Oh, it's like hair," he says as if this explains everything. He changes in the bathroom.

"...what's like hair."

"All of you go around with your hair loose, Elves would never ever do that unless it was with your wife."

"...okay, yeah, it's... like hair. Sure."

He changes! "What do I do at the laundromat -"

"There's one for this building, I'll," yawn, "show you but then I really need to crash I'm TAing phonology tomorrow at fucking nine in the morning."

"You can show me later if you want, it's not urgent."

"It'll take like five minutes." Down the stairs into the basement. This room is even less attractive! "You put quarters in the washing machine here, when it's done dryer is over there and works the same way, you can buy a detergent out of the vending machine there same way, here's some change, don't worry about it I'm writing you off as a research expense. Questions?"

"Thousands of them but I can look for answers in the library."

"...university library, place of information about laundry, sure. Uh, if you super need something you can knock on my door, code to get in the building is 5591."

"Okay."

And Dylan goes upstairs.

And he repeats the instructions to himself several times and then endeavors to wash his clothes. 

They don't come out of it spectacularly well. 

He goes outside and flops on the ground in a parking lot and stares up at the stars and sings and cries.

Someone nearly runs him over and honks at him.

Oh, come on. He moves to a soggy patch of grass.

No one runs him over on the grass. The stars are hard to see.

Well in Valinor you never saw them. He'll give Baltimore a point on that front. He sings and stares and eventually sleeps.

In the morning a campus security guard nudges him with his foot.

"Let me guess. Not allowed, for some fucking reason."

"You drunk?"