Seven: First Impressions  

Two years ago 

There was only one college in the city of Nerora. Only one physical campus; there were plenty of online services, but none of those appealed to Philo or his mom. Philo’s mom was a strict lady, one who followed the rulebook she made in her mind word by word. One of the rules she had made for her son was that he went to the same college she did: Bayside College.  

When Philo made it to campus, he was amazed. For a lot of his life, he lived in a small, dark apartment with his mom. It was all they could afford. Seeing so many polished and renovated buildings, all in one place not far from one another, and a rolling, sandy beach behind it; it was overwhelming. He had already felt like he didn’t belong, a feeling that was extended even further when he made it to his dorm.  

Philo had lucked out, and though he didn’t consider himself smart, he was very smart. He had gotten a full-ride by the time he was out of High-School, and so he instantly chose to move into one of the dorm buildings. This one was close to the Student Services building, a place he thought he would probably spend a lot of time in.  

The dorm itself wasn’t big, so Philo felt better there. His roommate was already set up. He was a small guy with a nice, dark complexion and an expensive-looking pair of glasses settled on his nose. He was at his desk when Philo opened the door, nose pressed down into whatever he was reading, but he snapped his head up when he noticed someone had come in. 

“Hey, man! Are you my new roommate?” He asks. 

“I guess so.” Philo rubbed at the back of his head, slinging his bags forward and into the room. He started setting up on the side that wasn’t taken yet. This whole experience felt strange for Philo, and he wondered if this man could already tell by how stiff he was moving. 

“I’m Aiden. What’s your name?”  

“Philo.”  

“Oh, that sounds fancy. Where are you from?” Aiden twists in his chair, giving Philo his full attention now. 

“I’m not too sure, but Philo is a Greek name.” Philo explains. “It means loving.”  

Aiden lets out a little laugh.  

“That’s sweet.” Aiden draws in a breath, running a hand over the top of his head. “I’m going to a fresher’s party this weekend. Wanna come with?”  

Philo unzips his bag and starts laying out his clothes. He turns over his shoulder to assess Aiden’s face. He’s smiling brightly, and in his eyes, Philo can see the faintest glimmer of hope.  

“Sure, why not?”  

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

Saturday night came soon enough, and Philo threw on a tight black band t-shirt with a pair of baggy, ash-colored jeans. Aiden dressed in a plain t-shirt and some shorts. He led him down from the campus, late and deep into the night. Philo listened to the dull crickets’ chirp and the distant shouts of college students. 

“Where are we going?” He asks Aiden, who is a few feet ahead of him.  

“The party is at Asa’s apartment.”  

“Alright.” Philo hums. “Who is Asa?” 

“He’s a sophomore. Friends with some of my friends.”  

Philo just nods, and Aiden leads him into a nice-looking apartment complex. There are around five buildings, all freshly painted and hedges all trimmed neatly. The parking lot is jammed with cars, and a few parties in the complex are already bleeding out there. Philo could see people with drinks in their hands on a few of the balconies, bopping their heads to whatever music was playing inside.  

“So, only college students live here?” Philo asks as they near the very last building, the one up against the shore.  

“Pretty much.” Aiden knocks on the door, and Philo hears some stumbling behind it. “Oh, also, Philo. Asa goes by Rocket.” 

“What... why?” Philo asks, but he is left unanswered as the door swings open, and a very drunk man smiles brightly at them. He holds onto the side of the door, a shot glass in his other hand, empty.  

“Hey Aiden, you made it!” He says, taking Aiden by the arm and dragging him in. They disappear into the apartment that Philo could now see was full of people, all buzzed and dancing.  

Philo felt a little awkward, but he stepped in and closed the door behind him. Aiden and the drunk man had made it to the kitchen, so Philo followed them there, trying his best to navigate the sea of sweaty, determined drunk people.  

Aiden was quickly handed a shot by the drunk man, and Aiden took it with ease.  

“Do you want one?” The man asked Philo, and Philo tilted his head. He was finally able to get a good look at this guy, under the bright LED of the kitchen. He had a silly expression of his face, dotted lightly with freckles and youthful dimples on either side of his mouth. His mouth was formed by perfect, glimmering white teeth. His nose was straight, without flaw, and his eyes gleamed a friendly brown. His hair was a mess, however, dirty blond and poking out in every direction.  

“Sure.” Philo says, ignoring the weird feeling building in his chest. He had never really paid attention to men like that. He had never looked at the small details. Why had he been so observant this time?  

“What’s your name?” The man asks, leaning on the counter. His drunken eyes are locked firmly on Philo, like he’s trying hard to focus on saying the right words.  

“Philo. What’s yours?” Aiden hands Philo a mixed drink, and Philo starts sipping. It’s vodka and cranberry, but Aiden had gone heavy on the vodka.  

“I’m Rocket.” He says, stumbling a little on nothing. Philo hovers his hands on the man’s shoulders in case he was to fall. He didn’t, though, and managed to grab ahold of the counter again. 

“But your real name is Asa, isn’t it?” Philo asks, downing another gulp of his drink, lips drawing in at the taste of the strong vodka.  

“Yes.” Rocket blabbers, then his eyebrows raise. “How did you know that? You must be like, really really smart.” 

Philo lets out a little, amazed laugh.  

“Aiden told me earlier.” A pause, and Philo notices just how close Rocket is leaning into him now. That happened a lot, with drunk people. They never realized just how close they were getting when they talked with you. Philo takes a step back, but Rocket doesn’t seem to notice. “Why do you go by Rocket?” 

“Oh, it’s dumb.” Rocket waves his hand in the air.  

“I’m sure it’s not.” Philo takes another sip. “Just tell me.”  

Rocket looks at him, and a shy little smile overtakes his mouth.  

“Okay, but let’s go to the balcony.” Rocket takes Philo’s hand clumsily and leads him to the sliding glass door. Aiden watches them leave, a smirk on his mouth. He finds his way into the crowd in the living room, feeling accomplished.  

Out on the balcony, Philo takes a deep breath. He smells faint cigarette smoke and looks to the side to see a used-up ashtray on the little balcony table. 

“You smoke?” He asks Rocket, who slumps down on one of the balcony chairs and shakes his head dramatically.  

“No, no. My roommate does.” He says.  

“I hate that smell.” Philo admits, leaning on the balcony and dangling his drink over the side, half-finished now. The music is muffled now, and people are still spilled out in the parking lot below. There’s a nice view of the beach from here, and some people have taken their party to the sand.  

“Me too. That’s why he smokes out here.” Rocket tells him, gesturing in a wild manner with his hands. “But... what was it that you asked me, earlier? In the kitchen.”  

Philo turns and looks at Rocket. He’s a mess, his face is flushed red from drinking, and his body is curled up, slumped in a way that only sick drunk people did. His arm was clutched loosely around his stomach. 

“Don’t worry about that, man. You look like you’re about to puke.”  

“Maybe.” Rocket lets out a faint laugh, and Philo sighs.  

“Let’s get you to the bathroom.”  

Hovering over the toilet now, Philo sunk beside Rocket and rubbed at his back. A few people Philo didn’t recognize came in and checked on him, but Philo told him he was fine and just needed to get it out of his system.  

In between gagging, Rocket would glance up at Philo and try to speak.  

“I’m sorry. This isn’t a good... first impression...”  

Philo just smiled and shook his head.