really don't feel qualified for partying," Lee confessed, turning around in front of his dorm mirror. It only showed him down to his waist, but he really needed to see how these shoes looked with his pants.

Frustrated, he turned around to where Rushil was reclining on his futon. Rushil had a pencil eraser in his mouth, tapping it against his lip. He looked up from his notebook to see Lee in a panic. Rushil scanned Lee from the head down and said, "You look fine."

"You're straight—you don't know that!" Lee cried.

"I'm serious, dude. Milo asks me for fashion advice all the time. If he didn't, he'd be wearing salmon pants and salmon shirts all day, every day."

Lee stopped to stare at him. Rushil nodded, the look on his face saying, "Yeah, buddy, I know."

Lee sighed and clasped his hands in front of him. "You are doing the Lord's work, truly."

"Thank you," Rushil said. "As for your outfit, why in the Hell don't you own a floor length mirror? I thought all gays had one?"

Lee sighed dismally as he flattened a hand over his purple t-shirt. "It broke during move-in. Never got a new one. You know how hard it is to stick a floor-length mirror on a bus?"

"Impossible, I imagine."

"Yeah, exactly." He put a hand to his chin and thought about it. He knew one man on this floor that might be able to save him. "But... I think I know someone who owns one."

He opened his dorm door and propped it with a wooden wedge. Rushil set his homework aside in favor of following Lee, saying, "Don't tell me it's the Resident Dad—Oh my God, it is!"

They journeyed down the hall to the far, opposite side of the corridor where the RA door label was. He approached with Rushil bouncing beside him, smiling wide as Lee reached over and gave a hearty knock on Ezra's door. The door openly so quickly that Lee had to suspect that Ezra was watching them through the peephole their entire walk down the hallway.

The door swung to a stop where Ezra—tall, dark, and handsome Ezra—leant up against the handle with a hand on his hip and said with a toss of his head, "What can I do for you?"

"Don't make it weird," Lee huffed.

"I'm not!" Ezra barked. "You came to me, might I remind you, so shoot! Oh, and hello again, Rushil, lovely to see you around here."

"Nice to see you again, Dad," Rushil said with a grin. Ezra held out a hand and Rushil high-fived it.

Lee sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need to borrow your floor-length mirror, if that's cool."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Come on in," Ezra said. He swept his hand out in a grand gesture, ushering them inside.

Rushil took one look around the room and let out a startled, draining squeal like a dog just broke his squeaker. Lee had been in Ezra's room before and therefore, was numb to the sight of Live Laugh Love paraphernalia riddling the walls. Every inch of Ezra's wall space was covered in Live Laugh love signs, posters, prints—you name it—hung up on 3M Command strip hooks. They were puzzled together and fit just so that two inches of border space remained between the items. It was so precise, so accurate, that Lee had to assume that Ezra spent the better part of the summer organizing it all.

"Right there," Ezra said, pointing to a spot on the Live Laugh Love wall that was dedicated to a frameless mirror.

"Bingo. Thanks man," Lee said, sliding up in front of the mirror. He dragged a hand through his hair just to look like a frat guy and gave him reflection finger-guns. He twisted his ankles to the sides to see the high-top basketball sneakers. His joggers had black hems, but the fabric was a dark heather grey, which weren't exactly applicable to the black-and-white sneakers, but it would do.

Through the reflection, he saw Rushil standing in awe, mouth ajar, staring at the wall across from Ezra's loft. Ezra stood beside Rushil with his arms crossed, glasses glinting in the fading sunlight casting a warm, orange glow across his collection. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Ezra whispered to Rushil.

Since whispering was a normal voice volume for Ezra, Rushil matched it by talking normally. "It's... something, all right. Where did you...?"

"I steal them from the homes of unsuspecting suburban moms," Ezra explained. Rushil turned to stare at him. "When I visit friends, I mean. A few of the kids on this floor have snatched their parents' Live Laugh Love paraphernalia this semester, so it's a growing collection."

Rushil continued to stare at Ezra as if just now realizing just how sociopathic the Resident Dad truly was.

Lee took Rushil by the arm and dragged him back to the hall. "Okay, that's all I needed. Let's get going."

"Wait—where are you two going?! Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!" Ezra said, volume raising to a scream that had Lee and Rushil running for safety, laughing and crashing into Lee's room. Lee kicked the wooden wedge out and slammed the door before Ezra could catch them in the act of prepping for a frat party.

An actual frat party.

Oh, this is gonna be fun, Lee thought as he rubbed his hands together diabolically.

Sigma Alpha was a notorious frat at University of San Francisco, California. Their reputation wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great, either. They boasted a roster of wealthy inheritors of nepotism that Lee despised, but at least their philanthropic attitudes were up to par with charities he supported. His bar for acceptable fraternities, though, involved a clean record without so much as a single accusation of assault. So, he could stand Sigma Alpha, if only for those details. It was because of this that it didn't physically pain him to step past the iron wrought gate attached to a brick hedge lining the Sigma Alpha property.

There was a ceramic crest posted above the doorway. Bright, colored lights flashed in the windows and cast the moving silhouettes of partygoers across the lawn. There were people outside playing lawn games and drinking on the couches that were dragged out from the living room and posted on the lawn.

There was a table blocking the walkway to the door and, sitting there, were Sigma Alpha guys with a sheet of paper filled to the edges with guest names.

"Name, please," the guy said to Rushil, who put his hand out to the guy's buddy as he said his name. They crossed his name out and stamped his hand before moving on to Lee.

Lee rubbed his hand over the ink on his hand as they passed the check-in table. There was a group of girls waiting behind them decked out in Hunter gear and green beads that had Lee rolling his eyes. As if camouflage mini skirts were attractive, but the guys at the table seemed to get a kick out of them.

"Are you excited?" Rushil said as they climbed the stoop steps.

The bass was already buzzing in Lee's chest. He grinned at Rushil, feeling more brazen than anything. He spent the entire semester playing Good—it was time to be an actual, goddamn college student.

"Hell yeah, let's do this," Lee said, slapping Rushil on the back and pushing him forward by the shoulders.

The front door was propped open so that when they stepped in, they were transported into the dark foyer and crowds of people on the outskirts of the party room. There was a stairwell to their left that circled up to the second floor, which overlooked the living room with a balcony. They bypassed the stairs in favor of slipping into the masses. Rushil hung onto the hem of Lee's shirt and Lee, intent on keeping Rushil close, kept his hand on Rushil's shoulder.

The living room was packed. The tiled floor was slick with fluid and it smelled like smoke, which lingered in the air and cast clouds through the flashing lights, swirling with the heads that jumped to the music. The speakers were on full blast, shaking the floor under Lee's sneakers and pumping vibrant energy through every vein of Lee's body.

Underneath the vaulted ceiling and the eyes of people lingering at the second floor balcony, Lee's borderline manic thrill brought a smile to his face as he and Rushil danced and swayed to the beat. They jumped in at just the right moment when the music blended into the next song and a girl came up to him and reached for his raised hand.

Lee laughed as she spun herself around on his finger and turned to him, bright pink hair swinging to the side with the motion of her hips. He followed the casual sway of her hips in those dark leggings. She slotted her leg between his and, with them both ducked low, they danced as one with her hand guiding his along her hips. Lee glanced at Rushil from over her shoulder, but he already had a partner to dance with, so Lee's focus went back to the smirk on the girl's face as the instrumentals shifted and they took the motion forward and back, shoulders swaying, her hand traveling up to his hair.

He didn't mind dancing with strangers one bit, so he wasn't at all opposed when he felt someone's back against his, his shoulder pressed up against another, and the sensation of the music pulsing through his chest.

Three songs went by, blended seamlessly into each other. When the beat shifted again, Lee reached for Rushil's wrist and, smirking at the look on Rushil's face, he turned his back to Rushil's front and rolled back against his chest. Rushil laughed in his ear and said, "Are you drunk?" over the music. "Are you actually dancing with me?! What is this!"

"It's called getting turnt!"

Rushil threw his head back and barked out a laugh. Lee grabbed Rushil's hands and slapped them on his hips. "You sound like a grandpa when you say that!" Rushil said.

"Want me to say it again?" he teased, rolling his hips back against Rushil's with a laugh at the sound that came out of Rushil's mouth.

"You're so embarrassing, oh my God," Rushil groaned.

They didn't get to dance much longer than half a minute before the music dimmed before ceasing altogether. The lights came on in the room as the DJ tapped a finger on the mic. People booed and put their middle fingers in the air until the DJ waved his hand to get everyone's attention, saying, "Ladies, ladies, relax! It's that time of the night!"

Lee straightened up and turned to raise an eyebrow at Rushil. Rushil shrugged, only to jump when a girl next to him screamed and pointed behind them. Lee thought they were about to be murdered by a man with an axe, but instead, everyone was pulling out their phones and recording it?

The stairs were visible from their vantage point, if a bit obscured by the crowd. The DJ slowly turned up the volume, Champions started playing to the sound of him declaring, "I present to USFC—the best fucking team of the CENTURRYYYYY—!"

The dance floor exploded into cheers. Lee hadn't expected to have his eardrums blown out of commission, but shit, if that wasn't what happened.

From the stairs descended the USFC Hunters football team in rows of two. Roland Ball was at the head of the crew, waving like a princess at a parade. Rushil laughed at the sight, nudging Lee in the arm as he pointed out the wide receiver, Hayden, who followed behind Roland wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a gold crown.

Overall, though, they were decked out in formal wear like they were prepping for Homecoming Weekend. Lee grinned at the sight of Park pulling up behind the main upperclassmen squad, perched on the shoulders of two linebackers—Simon and a junior by the name Zepile. A particularly loud roar went up for him as Park put his fists in the air, a wide, goofy smile on his face as he bounded from their shoulders and landed with a jump like some goddamn gymnast.

A round of claps went through the room before Champions shifted to Big Bank. The room warped once more into the scene of a frat party. The dancing commenced around them and, disoriented, Lee barely processed the fact that Rushil was waving frantically to Milo from over the heads of strangers. When Milo spotted them, it completely ripped Lee from the party vibe he'd been in. His confidence went down the drain and would have continued to spiral had he not become distracted by the familiar pink-haired beauty spinning back into his field of vision.

As she spun, she took his hand up and put it over her shoulder. Lee glanced over at where Milo caught sight of Rushil and started in their direction. Shit. She swayed back around, her shoulders grazing against his chest and pushing him to follow the beat with her hips pushed back against his. She hooked her hand on the wrist he leant over her shoulder and he promptly ignored the fact that Milo would see it all if he looked past Rushil at all.

On the speakers, Big Sean was saying, "Three coins that'll pay your whole semestaaa but you gotta ride it better than a Teslaaaa—" and somewhere in the middle, Lee could hear Milo singing with it like this was his anthem or some shit.

"Big bank take lil' bank," Milo was saying, shaking his shoulders and looking like an infant gangster with his maroon button-up half unbuttoned. He started undoing the buttons and sidling up to Rushil, who looked both embarrassed and amused at the crowd that was watching with their phones out as Milo's abs started to show inch-by-inch against Rushil. He started singing Nicki Minaj as she blasted on the speakers, "Diamond chains on my ankles—Young Money in the cut like a shank though—Tell TIP rubber band's on my BANK ROLL—! Show my ass like a stank—"

Milo paused in the middle of all the giggling and cheering. Lee didn't know what he was staring at until he realized that he was looking directly at Milo's dilated pupils from over the girl's bright red hair. The girl gathered it faster than him, though, and reached a hand out to Milo with a little "come here" gesture, biting her lip.

Milo took Rushil by the arm and pulled him over. The crowd filled the gap they left behind, and Lee didn't miss the way girls leant over to see Milo's exposed chest as he took the girl by the hand and ducked down to kiss it.

"And to who do I owe this pleasure?" Milo said to her, the slur in his voice hinting to his cheeky smirk and that goddamn dimple on his cheek that Lee was so certain didn't exist before that night.

"I'm Olivia, and this is the best dancer on the floor," the girl said, pointing her thumb back at Lee.

Upbeat, Latin trumpets started blaring on the speakers to the tune of, "Yeeeaah baby! I like it like that!" The crowd cheered as Milo met Lee's eyes again and, tugging on Olivia's hand, spun them around and dipped her. She yelped in his arms before springing back up into Rushil's arms. Milo took Lee's now empty hands and yanked him forward.

Their noses nearly touched. Lee blinked, startled, and smelled hard liquor on Milo's breath as he breathed, "Show me what you can do, Mr. I-Don't-Know-How-To-Dance."

Lee's heart stuttered to an abrupt halt. He looked between Milo's eyes, but it seemed like Milo was determined. He dragged his arms out of Milo's grasp in favor of placing them on Milo's hips. He pulled them flush together, the clammy heat from the party flooding his pale, pale cheeks red when he came within kissing distance to Milo's slack lips and those wide doe eyes.

Even if his heart failed him, he'd keep up appearances. If all else failed, he'd die from embarrassment and not have to deal with the consequences.