The previous night...

"THAT STEAK WAS DA BOMB!" A scruffy, average-looking man, with light jeans, and a black hoodie, walked on the sidewalk beside his glowing 19 year old sister, who wore a black dress, a plaid button up shirt, and boots.

"Do you ever treat yourself to a decent meal, Ted?" As they walked, the silver haired woman glared at her fingers and began picking at the dead skin on her nail cuticles.

"I'm too cheap for that shit. I'm surprised dad wanted to eat at a steak joint. I guess this is a mini vacation for them-- in a bittersweet kinda sense." His tone grew dramatic, "Little Ava darling is leaving the nest!" He placed the back of his left hand on his forehead, like he was a distressed southern belle.

Rolling her eyes, Avaleigh looked up toward the New York sky and stretched her tired body, her arms reaching high into the air.

"Enough with the boring chatter. Tomorrow is a big day! There's gotta be something planned that you know about, hmmmmmm? School doesn't start for few days and--"

Cutting her off, Jasper jumped on an empty park bench and gestured for her to grab his hand "Milady." Resting her hand on her brother's palm, he pulled her up onto the bench. Almost simultaneously, they sat on the back support, both equally enjoying the cool of the night.

"We can talk about that tomorrow. I'm too sober to care about people right now."

---

Around 1PM the next day...

(Weather: High 84° and Lo 62°)

Waiting. Waiting on the other line using her stone-age, flip phone, the light haired, thin woman impatiently tapped her pointer finger on her upper right thigh. This was the first call she sent, but the fifth call he had received. For once, she wore a lighter ensemble: a off-white long sleeves shirt and a teal skirt. Avaleigh waited for her brother, a disheveled man, who was probably passed the fuck out, TO PICK UP HIS DAMN PHONE. He owed her one, that's for damn sure. Last night at dinner, Jasper had promised their parents he'd help them move her in. Yeah, right. A yawn slipped out of her mouth, having gotten hardly any sleep the previous night (thanks to Jasper for bringing her home late and herself for not thinking it was a good idea to take her sleeping pills). She was prepared to hang up when FINALLY the ringing noise came to a close and a muffled grunt was heard from the receiving end. Oh, thank god. She knew right when he made the promise, he would be a no show. He hated moving.

Along with his loathing of changing homes and the inconvenience of packing and unpacking, he hardly drank last night while he was with her. So, Ava suspected the moment he got home, he went straight to the hard liquor. Moving was absolutely terrible and she couldn't blame him, but that doesn't change the fact that he didn't say goodbye to their parents before they caught their flight back to Cali.

Avaleigh narrowed her baby blue eyes as she leaned up against the confined hallway, on the first floor of Annabelle House, "Good afternoon, Teddy." She kept her voice rather low, not because she was trying to be secretive, but just in case her brother had a hangover. Clearing her throat, she continued, "I'll cut to the chase. Call ma in like six hours, if you can even remember that. They were annoyed until I told them you had a meeting with your editor. So. Yeah. I'd like wine for my fridge." The ballsy First Year requested alcohol in a demanding fashion.

"When you're not being a bum, bring me some. Please and thank you~" She listened to the other line and laughed, "Like I care! You told me yourself, they don't look into people's fridges. You're the one to talk!" There was a brief moment of silence, "Either way! Last night, you were gonna tell me about--" The man explained something inaudible for any ears but her own and a slight grin grew on her face.

"Perfect. Text me the deats ASAP! I need lunch. I'm fucking starving and I don't expect you to leave your place anytime soon. I better see you later~. Love ya!" Closing her flip phone, Ava looked down the hallway to see if anyone was around. Luckily for her, most people left. Her roommate was probably in her room unpacking though. Maybe she should invite her?

Making her way to Room 2, Ava swiped her Student ID card in the reader and waited for the door to *click* open. Lightly pushing her door open, the dancer gave a friendly wave to her roommate and went to her suitcase on her bed. As she took out some of her clothes and went to her drawers, the elegant and proper poised woman inquired (since they already did introductions hours ago), "Hey, Olive, do you have any plans tonight?"


A club song ringtone invaded the peace of mind of the messy haired, droopy faced man, who had drooled all over his pillow. No, he did not necessarily like the song. It just amused him.

And annoyed him.

Perfect for a ringtone. All morning it was going off... can't a grown man get some sleep in his own bedroom?! There was black curtains that covered his windows making his room completely dark. Darkness was nice. Especially when it came to him sleeping like a baby for a few hours. After his late night walk with his sister, Jasper totally raided his alcohol (tequila) and had a party with himself in his bedroom. He even drew a couple of awesome character designs: a innocent succubus and a horny angel playing a game of chess. Last night would be a success for him as a brother, a drunk, and an artist!

But Usher's voice wouldn't shut the fuck up. He should just throw the damn phone at the wall. With his eyes closed, Jay patted his bed to find the disruptive destroyer of all things peaceful... where was it? Follow the bass, follow the... AH-HA! Finding his Nokia 5230 Nuron, a basic smartphone, under his chest, he growled at the bright light that blared into his eyes. Ah, it's Noey.

Wiping some of the drool from his mouth, he slowly but surly began to comprehend the world, as he picked up the phone clumsily.

"Wahhhhh" he yawned. Listening to his sister with only half of his brain working, he muttered to himself some of her words, "Call...flight...editor...wine...". His eyes widened at the last statement, "HELL no! You're underage, missy! I'm not gonna be a--" He grimaced when she turned the situation on him, since Ava knew very well he always figured out a way to obtain alcohol, even when he was 'underage'.

Sighing, he let the silence linger on for a moment.

"Finefinefine." Sitting up now, he rested his chin on his palm as his elbow rested on his leg. His energetic, probably sleep deprived, sister brought up their conversation from last night. Jeez, Ava really wanted to get out tonight. Most likely start making her own connections and get her drink on. Sounds like an awesome night out to him.

Cutting her off, Jasper assured his sister that there was indeed a major party tonight, "A ritzy ass senior is throwing a big bash tonight at his father's penthouse. There's a pool on the roof and basically anyone, whose anyone is going to be there. The place is fucking HUGE, Ava!"

Getting off his bed, the weary man reached down to his toes and gave his body a little stretch, as his sister said her goodbyes, "Yeahyeahyeah. Love you too." Hanging up his phone, he tossed it on his bed, not bothering to look at his missed calls or texts, and prepared for his day.

Sometime after his morning routine...

No shower or coffee would make him energetic and ready to face the world and the annoying people in it. Clean and fully clothed in some random outfit he picked up off the floor, Jay had one goal only: the fridge. Shuffling his boots against the ground, he ignored all his surroundings and opened the keeper of great and tasty things. Sticking his head in for a long minute, he let the coldness inspire his eyes to open wider. Nah, nothing. Looking through the drawers, a sudden expression of shock fell over the man's face.



Suddenly, the man, who needed to feed his craving, was extremely perturbed but because he had little to no energy all he could do was close the fridge and mumble, "Fucking great."

---

---

Within a cramped shower stall, a tiny, dark haired woman was practically dancing to the catchy tune of Enrique Iglesias' Loco that emitted from the waterproof, cheap-looking smart phone in her hand. Drops of water splashed every which way as she moved her body like the amateur dancer she was, lost in the beat. Carmina had been showering for a good 30 minutes now, and when her song finally ended, she hit the handle and ceased the refreshing rain. Tying a towel around her bare body and putting her hair up in another, she sauntered out of the bathroom, Spanish Pop music still blaring from her phone. This had been her second shower of the day; the first had been at her brother's house in Long Island before he'd assisted in moving her up to Mortimers' in Manhattan. While she had barely done any of the work, Carmina had worked up enough of a sweat to justify a shower.

Swiping her recently acquired Student ID, the brown haired lady unlocked the door and stepped into her home for the next year. It was a bit... small for a room that housed 5 women, being one of the few like it on campus, but it had a certain rustic charm to it. At the very least, it was better than sleeping on a dirt floor, like she remembered doing for a number of years back in Peru. The basic set up was much like the other dorms, except the beds were arranged differently. Two of them were placed on platforms against the wall, suspended off the ground with ladders attached to reach them, while another was hidden below in the center of the room. All of these came with privacy curtains. The final two beds were simple twins set upon either the side of the center one, yet these two did not have curtains to prevent prying eyes. In any case, Carmina thought it was cute.



Naturally, the center bed was hers. While it was definitely more restricted than the others, it came with the luxuries of not having to go up and down a ladder and a curtain, just in case she needed to get away from everyone. It helped that there were drawers beneath it too since the fledgling college student had an unnecessary amount of clothes to store. "Hello, ladies~." she called out to whoever remained in the room, tearing off her towel without any semblance of shame. If they were going to live together, they might as well get used to seeing each other naked. Bending over and rummaging through her drawers, her hands collected undergarments and an outfit to wear.

Suddenly, as she dressed herself, one of her favorite songs began to play: another Enrique Iglesias song, Cuando Me Enamoro. If it wasn't clear enough by her constant looping of his songs and the rather large poster of him hanging up in her closet space, Carmina was obsessed with Mr. Iglesias. Squealing in delight, her mouth moved in perfect unison to the lyrics, as if she knew the song by heart after many, many hours of listening to it. Her singing voice, unfortunately, left much to be desired, sounding quite like a cat being impaled upon a theremin. Like a whirlwind, the woman began eccentrically prancing around the room while pulling on her jeans and a red-and-white striped midriff.

Jen smiled as the man and his giggly girlfriend sat down at the table, waiting for a minute or two before heading over to them.
"Hi, my name is Jen, I'll be your waiter for the day," She said in a cheery tone.
It was nice to see the cafe busy, even though meant she had more work to do. If it meant seeing these people with a grin on their face, she'd say it was worth the extra effort.
"What will you be ordering today?" She asked the couple, pulling out her small, cream notepad.
The man gestured to his partner first, who managed to drag her eyes off the man for a moment to look at Jen.
"I'd like to order a chocolate frappuccino please," She said politely.
The man spoke up, "I'll just have a latte."
Jen gave them a thumbs up.
"I'll get those to you in just a moment," She said, before heading back to the counter and going about preparing the drinks.
She hummed to herself a little as she finished up the latte, the frappuccino machine whirring away in the background. She poured the two drinks into cups and carried them over, placing them on the table. She laughed a little as she walked back over to the counter. The couple hadn't even noticed, completely focused on each other as they held hands. It made her feel happy.

Jen glanced at the clock and saw that it was the end of the shift. She removed her work apron and grabbed her coat, popping her head into the kitchen to say bye to the boss.
"I'm heading off Joe. See you next week!" She shouted over the racket that was the small kitchen.
He raised a hand in acknowledgement, Jen walking out when she saw this, waving at the couple as she passed them. She emerged out into cool air, the sounds of the city all around her, cars zooming past, the newspaper seller shouting on the corner. She walked across the street, enjoying the incomparable bustle that was New York. It didn't take her long to reach her apartment, the clean and modern looking buildings a glad sight. She had arrived back in town a few days ago, wanting to make sure she definitely around for the first few days of term. It would be useful for the first years to have somebody around in case they need help with anything. And Jen reckoned she had a pretty good grasp of all the fun aspects of New York by this point.

She fumbled with the lock and keys, walking up the stairs and reaching the door to her own apartment, 3C to be specific. She twisted the key and walked in with a smile.
"Malcom darling, I'm home!" She called out it in an overly posh voice.
Well, posher than her normal English accent.

Midday sunlight was not what King wanted to wake up too. In fact, he didn't want to wake up at all after the night he had. And yet here he was, slowly sitting up in his messy bed, shifting away empty beer bottles that clanked and smashed against the floor as they toppled from his lap, forgetting whatever sad shit kept him up-- oh wait. King glanced down at the time on his phone, and there he saw the overflow of texts from home.

Mom and dad and sister, lined in blues and greens, letters spelling out words that he had no interest in reading. The threats from his father were nothing but white noise now, white noise he had tried to forget last night, and the rest were loving notes and monetary information and things King had heard numerous times before. Nothing new. He reached for one of the half-full bottles beside his bed, sipping and cringing simultaneously as a taste of bitterness and hopelessness coated his tongue.

"Yep, bad idea." He hissed, dropping the bottle back down as he rose and stumbled across his room towards the door, barely clothed and mostly hungover. A shower would do him good, especially if he planned to do something with the rest of his lovely day. King slipped through the halls of the apartment as quietly as his stumbling headache could manage, only freezing when he saw the familiar back of one of his roommates. In front of the fridge. Mumbling? Mumbling. King had a faint feeling that he did something wrong, but another pang of agony from his brow completely swept such things away, and he instead greeted who he assumed to be Jasper with a low groan and a wave of the hand.

King eventually found himself surrounded by nearly-sterile lights and the chill of under use despite the circumstances of the apartment. The bathroom was as neat as it could be when it housed three party-animals, and that was good enough for King. If he ever got annoyed with the mess then he could spend some time trying and failing to clean it, but right now he was content with wading through unfinished toothpastes and hastily unraveled toilet paper.

He flipped on the hot water before anything else, basking in the sudden warmth and steam that filled the room and coated all available surfaces as scalding water splashed against the shower's floor. Mist gathered around his head, chasing out the headache and replacing it with a groggy sleep-warmth that had evaded him moments before when he was still actually in bed. The shower itself was uneventful and boring, King merely washed and rinsed and repeated until he felt shiny and new, or, well, as new as someone like he could feel.

One starts to feel a bit lousy after so many nights of nothing but sex, alcohol, and shit club music, surprisingly. And that feeling never really goes away.

King stepped back into the main apartment with a towel around his waist and still no words to pass onto to Jasper. Another groan and frantic wave of the hand would suffice for now. The venture from the bathroom back to his room only took a moment, and though he saw his bed beckoning him again he shook off the grogginess in favor of staring out his window. New York City gleamed brightly in the afternoon light, glass building reflecting blue skies and yellow suns and shiny cars. Upper East Side was always kind of glowing with richness, but of course it would. Because it was New York, and because it was Upper East Side, where all the rich people went, King being one of them sadly. The world just worked like that, King decided, rich people go to rich places and bring rich things to make said rich place richer and that's just how things go and don't try to decipher such vast things while hungover, me-

King groaned and turned to snatch up his phone. Twitter and Instagram took up a few moments of his mundane morning/afternoon, quickly scrawling images and words that depicted the lives of others and he felt some brief sonder as he skated passed strangers to find childhood friends and actually-decent family members. Astrid King's familiar face smiled up at him from one particular Insta post, and with a smile that most wouldn't expect from King came and went as he liked it quickly and then continued down his dash. Once that got boring, however, he turned towards his closet and changed into something clean and probably-flanneled, and finally ventured out into the apartment with a smile that was only off set by his bleary eyes.

"Yo Jaaaay?" He called into the living space, blinking away dots of white as bright light faded into his vision. A usual wish to wander through the streets of New York tugged at his feet, leading him somewhat towards the front door, but he froze by the kitchen to call again, "Jasssssssssy? Hey, dude, got any pain killers?" The dull ache in his head would be an issue, especially since September brought out the east coast's sunny side. It would be best to hunt down his usually-drunk roommate for some hangover meds before heading out, probably.

But at the same time he had an inkling of a feeling to simply jump ship and run before something bad happened. What did he do last night, his mind wondered, and a sheepish, unassuming grin claimed his initial snark as he tried to retrace his steps.

The morning of 9/6/2016

Pippa’s heels had clicked up the stone steps with vigor as she walked to student services, ignoring the confused first years surrounding her. She walked with purpose and pride that she had perfected and leaned on in her time of need. Her purse beat on her upper thigh as she finished the steps and marched into the old brownstone building holding several frazzled looking students, sweating from nerves and the move as they spoke with administrators regarding their rooms. She tapped her foot slowly until the next woman was available, walking up to the window with a stern smile.

“Can I help you?” The woman sounded as though she highly doubted anything was worth her time, and Pippa placed her purse on the counter with a small thud before speaking. “Yes. Yes I hope so. You see there has been a mistake. A mistake with my room I should say. I’ve been put in Callaway Hall…oh what room. 4A? And it says I have roommates.”

“Yes, you are in a Quintet. NEXT.”

“What?” Pippa forced her face back in the woman’s view as she looked over Pippa’s small frame, catching the woman’s eye. “What, I’m sorry. I must have misheard you. Did you say a Quintet? As in five? You mean five of us, living in the same room? Are you telling me that’s a real thing?”

The woman looked at her blankly, although Pippa could sense a small smile threatening her lips. Yes, she could hear the woman now in her mind, mocking her. Five? Good lord, I didn’t get in here for my math skills. She pursed her lips against the imagined comment, “No, I’m sorry. You see I asked for a single. I don’t…I paid for a single.”

“I’m sure you will get your deposit back for your single, but that’s financial aid office. NEXT.”

Pippa opened her mouth to speak but felt the hot breath of another student behind her, pushing for her spot at the window, a disgruntled parent with them and holding an overstuff bag if their child’s crap. Pippa nodded curtly to the woman across from her and left the office. She pulled out her blackberry smartphone, her fingers gliding over the keys with grace as she sent a text to her father. The man had threatened her with such a thing, suggesting she ‘make friends’ and try to ‘be social.’ She had not taken him seriously until she had arrived that morning, and her mind raced with where she would place her large collection of clothes an shoes when she was forced to share a space with four other women.

---

Around 1pm that day

She walked the short route from the coffee shop she had found near campus back to her dorm, considering the situation her father had put her in. She wore her simple floral tank top with matching grey skirt she had worn to move in, with her favorite black heels for luck. Not that it had helped. Her father had indeed called and canceled her claim on a single bedroom months before, betting on her own belief that he would pay for everything not to check on the rooming. Pippa had been wrong to assume their slowly healing relationship was strong enough to go past the years of hardwiring lying that ran in their family.

She took a sip of her iced coffee and stared at her blackberry as she walked past students starting to come out of their rooms after unpacking. Her own belongings sat waiting for her in her own room, well…her 1/5th of a room. She had needed a break from the frustration of figuring out where her clothes would go, instead throwing them in a pile on her bed, a bottom bunk. She would have preferred a loft bed for privacy, but she knew herself well enough to know a ladder plus her history of drinking was a poor choice for a dancer who couldn’t afford to break anything.

Pippa scrolled through her text from her father, willing him to text her back and knowing he would not. Her own sharp temper had flared and caused him to retreat, leaving her to own devices. She took a giant sip of her coffee as she walked into her dorm room, looking up started as she heard the Spanish music hitting her ears.

“Wha...” Pippa’s head whipped to one side, noticing a small brunette finishing dressing, singing along to the music. She took another sip from her coffee and smiled as the girl finished and looked up. It was a different one than she had run into earlier when she had first arrived. For the life of her she couldn’t remember that ones name, if they had even spoke it in the rush to unpack and lay claims to a bed. She was certain this was one new. She would have remembered the lively expression and Spanish vibe. “Hello, it looks like the two of us will be roomies. I would have gotten you a coffee…but I didn’t know what you would want. Or how many of you would be here.” She tipped the half empty plastic cup as greeting, feeling awkward as she walked over to her bed, the four piles she had organized looking back at her.

8;00...

Olive pulled in front of the cute little house, their car packed with quite a few of their belongings. Taking a breath they looked up at their new home for the next year. It was a beautiful building by all standards, at least on the outside. Turning off the engine they grabbed Their purse and hermit crab from the passenger side seat and headed for the door.

Inside was just like the outside, a bit cramped when compared to her parents home, but quaint. They went to investigate their new room, climbing the stair and then sliding their student card through the reader. The up-stairs room that Olive would be sharing carried this theme of smallness. Two beds, two dressers and two desks ensconced by the pale walls, and parents across an entire city away. It was perfect.

With a smile they set their crab on top of the desk and set to getting all their boxes at least in side of the room, there would probably be enough room for everything.

---

---

12,57 ...

Olive finished putting their clothes away. The last of the sweaters crushed in to fit. They'd been working on their shared room since they got there,aside from the time taken to introduce themself to their room mate, Avaleigh. Hanging fairy lights and painting on the wall, not to mention all of the actual unpacking had seemed like endless work. There was still a box of books and another of more miscellaneous trinkets to put away. Looking at the last couple boxes they sat on their bed, mentally preparing for another hour or so of organization.

Her mind was put to rest thankfully by the soft click of the door. Perking up Olive looked over to see what, or in this case, who it was. Their new room mate Ava waved a little before moving on. Giving a small polite smile Olive set back to work. They'd decided to just shove the boxes under the bed until their parents could come get it. They only really needed a few of the books.

Ava soon questioned them on their plans for the evening. It seemed like the girl might be inviting Olive to join, though not wanting to assume anything they kept their hopes in check. "I was going to finishing putting my books away," Oliver quipped cheerfully, her words still tinged with the simplicity of being a secondhand language, "but that does not...uhmm take time to do." They smiled awkwardly over to the girl. Talking was much harder than understanding English in their opinion.

_{Close to 1pm}

In her top bunk with the curtain closed, Lemon grabbed her camera and started her first UniVlog. A series of vlogs she was gonna do at school for her subscribers. "Alright Lemon Tarts. Her is your first look into my university experience. First thing I wanted to show you was my awesome bed. It is a little small compared to others, butttt- I get me my own curtain to cover my bed. That's not the coolest part though. Lemon pokes her head out and shows the camera the ladder, "Pretty sweet right." Lemon then rolled back into her bed.

"So, to tell you guys about my day. Well actually I should start with last night. Apparently, Ollie thought it was a good idea to not tell me some guy was gonna be staying at his apartment last night. His name was Alex I think, but apparently him and Ollie had met when the guy came down for his interview. He was kinda cute, but still Ollie coulda warned me. Anyway, they helped me move in and that's when I met one of my roomies. She seemed nice so far, but I got the feeling she didn't want to be there. Her name was Pippa and she seemed like she was in a rush. Advancing the story of the day though, Ollie, Alex, and I went and got lunch at this cool little cafe. No idea what the name was, but it had the cutest little sandwiches. Today has been so -"

Lemon then heard someone singing Spanish from the halls and then the card reader beeped, whispering "Shh. Looks like one of my roommates has arrived. Lemon peeked her head out from the curtain slightly to see her roommate say, "Hello, ladies~." and then rip her towel off. Lemon then stuck her head back in her bed and whispered, "Sorry guys. But unless you want my channel to get a strike meeting her now is a no can do for you. Still like and subscribe to this video if you wanna see more of my UniVlogs."

Lemon turned the camera off just as Pippa came in and spoke to the Spanish singer. She pushed the curtain to the side and said, "Make that the three of us. So I guess we should start intros. Hi, I'm Lindsay, but you can call me Lemon."




"Hey, so are you gonna tell me what that secret was yet?" Alex was back at Annabelle House after eating with Ollie and his sister, Lemon. He had already taken his stuff to his room earlier in the day after helping Ollie and Lemon get her things in her dorm. The person on the other end of the phone was Ollie, and Alex was asking him about a secret Ollie had said he was gonna keep until after 1 P.M. "Of course I noticed it was after 1. That's why I asked you." Alex walked to his room and scanned his card opening the door. Huh, no one else has moved stuff in. Maybe Alex wasn't getting a roommate or something? "Seriously, you don't think you should tell me. Why bring it up that there is a secret anyway. - Oh, really. You forgot I was a first year. Yeah, right. Just tell me. - No, I don't have a roommate yet, but you're in the process of telling me this big secret that you said you would tell me. - You heard that someone is having a party. Sounds interesting. Except for the fact that I'm not a big party person. Have fun blowing your eardrums out. Later."

Alex hung up the phone and looked around his side of the room that had random boxes everywhere then at the empty other half of the room, "Ehh, probably better I don't have a roommate anyway."

---

---

Selassie's already narrowed eyes drooped further down in exhaustion as she dragged her suitcase behind her, pacing through the doors to her dorm room. She probably shouldn't have neglected her sleep schedule to finish her piece on The Roman Widow. Now matter how beautiful she envisioned it to become. Upon her arrival, the cramped array of beds and people roaming around had her eyes widening. It was like an injection of caffeine without a wholesome cup of Starbucks being placed against her lips. "Hey..." She greeted softly, her voice fading away on a breath as she stealthily roamed her eyes around everyone in the room.

Features stood out to her almost immediately. A lively looking hispanic woman and a blonde haired girl was all she caught before she glanced away, her fingers already itching to transfer the hues onto a fresh white canvas. No, Salie. Stop being so weird, she reprimanded herself mentally, instead choosing to clamp her full lips together and continue on to the beds. There was one right in the centre, a top bunk which looked the most bare and unoccupied. Perfect. Her long legs increased their speed and she stopped right before the bunk, depositing her luggage near the ladder before extracting her drawing pencils and a pad. She tried her best to tune out what was going on around her, with the use of her curly hair which she used to shelter her eyes and ears. After all, her aunt had warned her that the first day would be awkward, but she had clearly been misinformed on just how much.

Glancing up the ladder, she let out a shuddering breath, biting her lip as she looked at how high up it was. Her bathmophobia wouldn't do her well in this situation and she could already feel potential scenarios playing out in her mind.

Rolling off in the middle of her sleep and crashing onto the floor.

Trying to climb down and tripping somehow, plummeting to her untimely death.

She shook her head, her curls jumping as if they had a life of their own, as she tried to dispel her thoughts that were doing more harm than good in that very moment. Realising that she had been paused for a few beats too long, she grasped the rungs of the ladder, closing her eyes and quickly scrambling to the top, only reopening them once she was on her back, resting upon a cool duvet. I made it through alive! she squealed in her head, examining her body for any injuries that may have occured during her rushed climb. Nope, nothing. She finally let her mouth twitch up into a smile, clutching her sketchpad and pencil close to her body as she took a moment to absorb the silence.

She had made it. Not only up the perilous ladder, but into the prestigious school that people would die to get a chance to attend. This achievement led to her deduction that she deserved a nap. Closing her eyes, her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks and she was wondering why sleep was so hard to come by now that she finally got a chance to relax. She guessed just pretending to sleep in order to avoid attention would suffice.

Jen walked over to an easel and picked up a paint brush, brushing a few lines on to the canvas. The scene showed a snowy forest in the dark, a girl in cream clothes running away. The quality of the artwork was fantastic, the cool, dark colours of the ground seeming to melt into the distant horizon. The trees stood like black pillars, casting long shadows into the ground. Yet the girl stood out, bright in the muted darkness.

Jen pouted when she heard Malcom's comment about the spirits.
"Aaw, is poor Mally hungover? Did we party too hard?" She asked, half jokingly, and half actually concerned.
She knew that not everyone could handle a party like she could. Most people would puke if they tried to drink as much as she did. One of the benefits of a Scottish mother apparently. And she couldn't think of many people who would agree with her opinions of bedroom activities, so to speak. She put down the paintbrush, happy with her small additions to her work. She walked over to Malcom and draped her arms over his shoulders in some semblance of a hug.

"Well, a little birdy told me that there's a party at a senior's house tonight, but I have a feeling you won't be up for that. As for the rest of the afternoon, I was planning on heading out and seeing if any of our budding freshman needed any help with anything," She said, giving him a squeeze before letting go, "But after that, it's off to the party I go!"
Most people would find her behaviour around Malcom slightly odd, being so touchy feely. Well, even more touchy feely than usual. Some people would theorise that she had a crush on him, or something along those lines, even given Malcom's sexuality. But those rumours held no water to them. He was just someone that she felt truly comfortable around, someone she could trust completely. And that was better than any silly crush.

She returned to her artwork, simply inspecting it for now, eyes running over the brushstrokes to see what could be improved.
"I'm good actually. It's nice to be back in New York. Odd as it may sound, I'm kind of looking forward to getting back to work. I'm hoping they give us more freedom over what we make in class this year. I can't believe that I had to do a stupid pencil drawing of a leaf last year. And it was on bloody white paper as well," She said, groaning at the last part.

Grayson Stevens was as prompt as he could be. In his mother's own words, "If you get there early, there's nothing to worry about, right?" Grayson had a really hard time believing that. Maybe it was the inner cynic from deep inside his brain, but he always thought that something could go wrong. The sweatervest sporting boy tried to bite those pessimistic thoughts back. This was New York City, one of Grayson's favorite places in the world. This was a prestigious college for those who wanted to follow their dreams. He would have to hope for the best, was all he was sure of.

Or fake it until he made it. Whichever one came first.

Arriving around eight that morning, Grayson had basically left his stuff in the dorm room and immediately left. He wanted to see the university campus for a while, and even head out for New York City. He learned firsthand that NYC traffic isn't the best thing to experience in the world, and ended up not going far before he decided to head back to the dorms. At the very least, he had plans either today or later on in the semester to go visit the Dream Up Festival. Everything about the Dream Up Festival just called out to Grayson. If he was able to make the trip, he would definitely enjoy it, he figured.

As he walked back to his room, determined to get some unpacking done, his shoulders back and his posture stiff, he watched as other first years roamed about. Sure, this was move in day, but he almost wondered if they had anything to do other than roam about. Practice on their craft, be it singing, dancing, art, or whatever. At the very least, it would be a good way to start out the long school year.

Although, that might have only been the thoughts of an overachiever there.

As he approached the dorm, he stopped in place, hearing a voice loudly sing out. He furrowed his brows slightly to try to hear where it was coming from, only to recognize that it was coming from the dorm room he shared. The brunette’s eyebrows raised slightly. Well, at least someone was trying to warm themselves up. For a moment, he wondered if they were another broadway division student or if they were a music division student.

Placing a hand on the door knob, he turned it, opening the door to the dorm room. Only one person at this time? The other two roommates either haven’t showed up yet, or dumped their stuff and went to do something, he figured.

Walking towards his own bed, he looked over at his roommate, who was currently listening to music. Well, it wasn’t practice, he figured, but hey. Any kind of singing was good singing in Grayson’s books. At first, Grayson didn’t say anything, rubbing the back of his neck, before bending down to drag his suitcase from under his bed to get started on unpacking.

“Is that French?” he asked, trying to start up conversation, before adding, “Err.. Partial French?” He paused for a minute before deciding to backpedal, saying:

“What I meant to say was… looks like we’re roommates.”

Jen laughed when she heard Malcom poke fun at her liver. It was probably true to be fair, she did drink an awful lot. Probably an unhealthy amount, if she was honest with herself.
"I don't think I've ever seen you completely flat out wasted. Kind of a shame, I think you would be hilarious," she said, "Though you're right, probably not good for dancing. Art on the other hand. I've had some of my best ideas whilst drunk. Ideas like the dead pidgeon on the sidewalk. That was a good painting."
She quickly wrote down a note on a pad of paper, before going back to studying the art.
"I can't imagine doing the amount of exercise you do for ballet. I think I'd break before I even did one dance. I just kind of have to move a brush around and hope that it comes out looking like something."

Jen let out a small cheer when she heard him say he would go to the party.
"Yay, I won't look like a loner when I turn up! I can be your wingman or something cool like that!" She said happily, glad that her friend would be coming with her.
She was seriously looking forward to this party. It would be nice to let loose one more time before the term started properly. Get drunk, have a laugh, maybe fool around with someone. She wondered if any of the first years were hot. As much as she hated to admit it, she would have to cut back a bit whilst she was working at the institute, so she wanted to leap on this opportunity.
"You sure you're ok to go out tonight? You look a little rough from yesterday," She said, slightly concerned for her friends wellbeing.
After all, he was the one who pointed out that not everyone could keep up with her.

"Oh yeah, that things on. I think one of the company's was doing an adaptation of Macbeth or something like that. One of Shakespeare's plays. I might drop by later to go see it, assuming I don't get caught up in helping firsties. If not, do you want to meet back here to get ready? What time do you think you'll be done at?," She said, starting to get ready to head back out as she grabbed her jacket, a short black thing with a hood on the back.

As her roommate answered her question, Ava decided to not bother putting the rest of her clothes away. Zipping up her vintage cobalt blue suitcase that had hand painted birds on it, she let silence fill the room for a moment or two. The suitcase was a gift from her brother since his sister, more often than not, packed an over abundance of clothes when she visited him in the past. It was something she cherished, even if he probably bargained for the case, making the price incredibly cheap. The suitcase was it's own, and she loved it.

When people do get to know her, they come to realize that the most important person to her was her brother. Jasper meant the world to her. He was the only one she could be honest to about her locked up emotions. Although, he was a hot mess himself and his drinking habits were atrocious, he had a way with knowing what to say, making her feel content with herself. Everything was going to be alright, right? Sure, she hated using him like this but... she needed someone. Everyone at least needed one person. Why not her brother?

The silver haired girl picked her suitcase up and brought it to the floor at the end of her bedside, leaning it up against the wall. Turning her thin body to let her soft, baby blue orbs meet with Olive's green stare, Ava crossed her arms and gave her a slight smirk, emanating the strong confidence her close loved ones knew best, "Good. I'd love to take you out tonight to meet some upperclassmen. Make connections, you know?"

Putting her pointer finger up for Olive to give her one moment before replying, the dancer sat on her bed and pulled out her laptop (since her phone was not capable of doing modern day things). Patting her bed that was dressed in a light blue comforter, she gestured for her roommate to sit next to her. Yes, on her bed. Opening up her mac laptop, which was the only true expensive thing she owned, Avaleigh stared at the screen of her high school graduation gift. She had left her Facebook open, which was convenient. Quickly, she typed in the search bar of FB: Mortimer Class of 2020.

It brought her to a student-made group page that all freshmen, who had a Facebook, were linked to so they could mingle with their colleagues before the first day of classes. Jasper wouldn't mind me bringing some of my fellow classmates... Her gaze trailed down the screen reading other people's posts.

And maybe... I could find someone to have fun with.



After pressing post, Ava brought her attention back to Olive, who probably watched her type the message out.

"I'll give it a minute before my inbox goes crazy. Once I give these kids the deets, lets go grab a bite to eat okay? OH! Do you have something classy yet fun to wear? We could go shopping after we eat."



The devil's voice pierced inside of the also hungover man's head, as Jasper started to realize there was a pounding bass going on in his mind for going too hard by himself last night. This does not change the fact that they were out of damn beer and his sister demanded wine. Fucking great. Standing up, he walked to the drawer that held the silverware and took out one of his stashed pills for his terrible mornings. Usually, there was quite a few painkillers hidden in random places throughout the apartment. Though, it had been awhile since he last checked his stock and the older man had no clue if he needed more. He hadn't had a devastating hangover in awhile. Even this headache was mild from what he could have.

Sighing as he shook the pills, Jasper glared at the nearly empty container. There was only enough for one of them. Of course there was only enough for one of them.

Even if the senior student was in his dark and foreboding aura, for the lack of alcohol (and painkillers) he had in his household, this mood would only be temporary. Jasper was never a morning person and King knew that by now. Or at least, Jay hoped his damned roommate paid attention to some of his rituals-- like how he drank a fucking morning beer EVERYDAY.

Morning Jasper hated everything. The lamp that still needed a light bulb replacement. Hate. The lack of cookies in the cookie jar. Hate. The missing remote. Hate. Even that stupid white board on their fridge that their past residents left behind and now they use it to say stupid shit to each other. Currently, the white board had boobs drawn on it. Hate.

But in all honesty, he didn't mind King. Sure, the guy could be a royal pain but he was manageable and both men had a mutual understanding when it came to their obvious priorities. As long as neither got into each other's personal businesses and allowed the other to bring home who they want, when they want, both men could deal with the other.

Plus, Jasper was the gateway to the best parties and King knew that.

Rather than tossing the pills to his roommate, the Walking Dead senior sluggishly made his way to King and took out his wallet, keeping the container tight in his grasp. With his lifeless voice, he darkly stared at the man that gave him a headache worse than a hangover and asked, "We're out of beer. Since you're going out, could you oh so kindly restock our fridge? While you're at it, I need Pinot Grigio too. I got the money, don't you worry, but it's the least you can do for drinking the last beer. My beer." Taking out a 100 dollar bill, since Jasper was fickle with his money when it came to alcohol, he gestured for the pretty boy to grab the money or he won't get the pills.

To inspire the man that was taller than him by almost three inches, Jasper's lips curved in an equal smirk to match his roommate's, "Hangovers are temporary." Loosening his grip on the pills, he brought both the money and pills closer to King, as he continued, "I'm sure you'd love to check out Caldwell's penthouse tonight. So do me a solid and then you got yourself an invite."

In Alex's opinion (which was really important), she wasn't sure how she was going to survive New York City this year. It had nothing to do with the unfriendly attitudes of the swarm of people around her or the hectic, fast-paced lifestyle of the city finally getting to her. However, the one thing that absolutely pissed her off was the transportation system. It was all she bitched about in her mind during the excruciatingly long and silent cab ride to her new apartment from the airport. Her anger was only momentarily paused when she remembered that she should probably text Richard that she would be arriving soon. Glancing out the window at the same sight she had seen five minutes ago, her pretty, little mouth pulled down into an irritated scowl. Probably not. Glaring out the windshield at the herd of pedestrians crossing the street, she briefly registered her awe at the size of the crowd in the back of her mind before insulting the horde. Move out of the way you disgusting cows.

Letting out an aggravated huff, she picked up her phone and opened her messages before shotting Richard a few quick texts:

guess who's coming back into your life and giving it any sort of meaning!!!

I should be arriving at the apartment in about twenty. cant wait to see you again! <3

Placing her phone back down by her side, her mind wandered back to the situation of getting around now that she didn't live on campus. Last year was so much easier with everything being accessible right there at the grounds. But now that she was living in an apartment, she would have to learn how to use the subways and buses if she wanted to get anywhere (mainly school) in a timely manner. The thought of either of her alternatives had her subconsciously making a disgusted face. It just seemed so gross, being packed with a bunch of other people who probably had sweating and hygiene problems while being unable to sit or hold onto something unless she wanted some kind of sticky stain on her. She would have drove herself everywhere if that was even a fucking option.

Waiting impatiently the rest of the trip to the apartment, Alex slightly registered that Richard hadn't texted her back yet and that was unusual for him, especially when he knew she was coming to move in today. Growing a little concerned as they got closer, the brunette wondered if something had happened to her friend. Of course she hoped he would at least be at the apartment to let her in since she hadn't gotten her key yet. A little bit later, Alex finally was in front of her new living space. And it only costed her 80 bucks and a whole hour of her life (she believed the latter was more important). Another ten minutes and she was standing in front of a wooden door with a 2D sign nailed into it with her two suitcases and duffle bag by her side. Thank god they didn't get that third floor apartment.

Despite all her impatience, the girl took another minute to fix her appearance before knocking on the door, a giddy smile on her face. She couldn't wait to see Richard again; she had missed him too much.

Pippa’s eyes fell on the blonde whose head snuck out past the curtains of her bed. Those damn things were going to be a problem when the girls were coming in and out, never knowing who was in the tiny room. Her face was familiar and Pippa recognized her as the girl she had interacted with briefly while she had unpacked. Lemon She repeated to herself, willing herself to remember. It was a strange name, even for a nickname, but who was she to judge? Her name was Pippa after all; although her mother was to be blamed for that…where this girl choose her title. Yes, right, where was she? Ah Lemon. Lemons were yellow and the roommate was blonde. The blonde above her own bed. She could remember that simply enough.

“It’s nice to meet you Lemon. What major are you? I’m Pippa…Pippa Montgomery. I’m in the dance division.” Her lips curled into her half smirk she preferred when dealing with others, nodding towards the other girls in the room as she turned back to the comfort of her iced coffee, sipping it thoughtfully as she stood before her bed. Her free hand was resting on her hip as she looked at the clothes with thought and then to her small closest space near the bed, the drawers under her bed being her saving grace. Could she use one draw for her dance clothes and needs, and use the rest for bras and shoes? It would be tight but she could manage. “Have any of you heard of any plans for tonight? I’ve seen posters for The Dream Festival, which would be fun this afternoon.”

She finished putting her dresses and clothes on silk hangers in the closet space with a flourish, finally able to sit on her bed again without the trauma of wrinkling her clothes. She spoke in general to her roommates as she looked down at her phone, catching up on instagram and snapchat. Rude. Rude but effective. Switching to FB a notification popped up on her screen for the Mortimer Class of 2020. Some other freshmen had posted on it, talking about a party. Pippa’s interest peaked as she read. A senior allowing even a few freshmen to their party was unheard of. On one hand, sober Pippa disliked people. On the other hand, drunken Pippa loved people. And parties tended to have alcohol, which could fix the sober part of the equation. She clicked the pretty girl’s name, going to her profile and opening the box for a PM.

As Pippa began typing away on her blackberry she stopped and looked back up. She glanced at the other ladies in the room, taking in her options for dragging them with her. The Spanish beauty wouldn’t be difficult to sway, she had a feeling she would enjoy dancing. The blonde…Lemon, she reminded herself, would be a challenge. The quiet girl with curly hair she wasn’t sure about yet. She was up on her bed with a white pad and pencil, clearly an artist. She took another large sip of her coffee before speaking again, attempting to sound friendly. Easier said than done. “A girl in our year posted about a party tonight. A senior’s welcome back party. She has an in and is looking for a few classmates to join her.” She grinned slightly standing back up. “I think we just found something to do tonight! Can you imagine? A senior, all the connections and actual important people there? There would be dancing, good music and plenty of interesting people. Not to mention, no stale beer like with younger hosts.”

As she spoke she finished up her message to Avaleigh, wondering if she would be able to find a decent friend or two in this place. Or a fun someone to help ease her into the semester.




“What do you say, ladies?” Pippa asked as she pressed send on her phone, smiling warmly at her roomies. She would drag them there if need be, but she preferred honey to handcuffs. “Does anyone want to go to lunch or the dream festival with me? We can go out and be back here in time to get ready…and change for the party.” She eyed them each. Ugh, artists and their cloths. Her eyes went again to the quiet curly haired roommate, “What about you? Want some sunshine and art to get your creative juices flowing?”

The Talking Heads? Grayson pulled the suitcase up onto his bed, before slipping his shoes off and crawling up on the bed, folding his legs underneath him as he began to look through his clothes.

"I can't really say I heard them, but I've heard of them," was Grayson's response, rubbing his neck slightly and giving a sheepish smile to his roommate, "But hey. If you've got some good music, go for it, man." He mentally decided that he would look up the Talking Heads later. As if his music back-log wasn't already large enough, sure, but why not? Nothing wrong with even more music to listen to, he figured. However, he almost jumped slightly when Chance undid his headphones, but was moderately surprised that it was at a pretty reasonable volume.

Pretty catchy too, he had to admit.

"Pleased to meet you," he nodded to the much taller boy, "I'm Grayson Stevens. Err, I hope we get along!" Was that what roommates said to each other? Sorta? Kinda?

When Chance asked if Grayson was a dance major, Grayson's eyes widened as he said, "Oh, God, I hope not. I don't really want to get kicked out for putting a hole in the dorm wall or something."

He laughed slightly, mostly to signify that he was joking. Mostly. "I'm a drama major, actually. Broadway instead of film, particularly musicals," he explained, a bit of pride swelling in his chest for actually getting to offically say that, before asking, "Are you a music major? Or like, do you just like to sing or?" Grayson looked unsure, but it seemed pretty safe. Or an artist or something. He guessed Chance was at least one of the two.

---

---

Selassies eyes fluttered open, the words party and art being the only things she caught from the conversation. Hurriedly, she turned over on her stomach, gazing down at the others and finally at the brunette who already had her eyes fixated on Salie. "Were you speaking to me?" She questioned, her shaped eyebrows furrowing at the other girl whilst her mouth twitched upwards invitingly. "I heard something about a party and art... and those happen to be two of my favourite things." She usually wasn't this talkative and outgoing when it came to strangers, but something about this girls inquisitive gaze had a small flutter of trust rising in her chest.

Without waiting for a response, she carefully manouevered herself out of her laying position and down the ladder. Her fear had subsided somewhat, but she was still going to take all precautions necessary in order to stay alive. Relief was rushing through her at the idea of having some sort of escape. Alcohol and Salienw went hand in hand, but they were an explosive combination nevertheless.

"Let me just change out of these crappy clothes and I'll be ready in literally, like, a second. " She gestured towards her ensemble of a plain black top and grey sweatpants. Although they were comfortable enough for the travel to the school, she didn't want to look like a slob in public. At least not yet. She leaned back over to her suitcase, she unzipped it once more cermoniously, rummaging her hand around in its depths. She tilted her face up towards the ceiling, her mouth pursed in concentration until her palm hit the familiar material of her favourite chiffon vest top. She extracted it, leaning back with a sigh before proceeding to pull off her plain black v-neck. She held the other garment infront of her to conceal her bare body. Although she may not fear these girls, it didn't mean she was that comfortable yet. Once swathed in her favourite top, the fabric encasing her like a comforting hug, she glanced up at the girl again. Selassie smiled, hoping that it would come across more like a comfortable grin than a grimace.

"My names Selassie, I don't think I got yours?"