Orientation

The auditorium hummed with noise—freshmen whispering nervously, upperclassmen chatting casually, and the occasional sharp feedback from the microphone as the current speaker adjusted it. Chase Everett sat in the middle rows, sinking into his chair, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. His head was slightly bowed, messy black-dyed hair obscuring most of his face.

He tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie, a plain black one that was a little too big but perfect for hiding in plain sight. The dark blue sweatpants he paired it with were loose but not baggy enough to look strange, a compromise between avoiding attention and not coming across as someone trying too hard to disappear. All-black might have been easier, but he knew better. People noticed things that looked off.

His skin prickled under the weight of the crowd's energy, but he kept his posture relaxed—or at least tried to. His hood covered the back of his head, casting a subtle shadow over his features. Even so, he couldn't shake the unease that someone might look too closely, might notice something off about him. His hands fidgeted in his lap, brushing against the soft fabric of his sweats.

The stage lights dimmed slightly as the projector flickered on. A procession of speakers began addressing the crowd, each taking their turn at the microphone. The university president kicked off the event, welcoming everyone to Crestfield University with a speech full of inspiring platitudes. Chase barely heard the words, too focused on keeping his head down and blending in.

Next was the Dean of Student Life, a polished woman with a practiced smile, who explained the university's values and expectations. She was followed by the Student Body President, a junior whose charisma and sharp suit made them look more like a motivational speaker than a college student. They spoke about clubs, student organizations, and all the ways to get involved on campus.

Finally, a bubbly orientation leader took the stage, outlining the schedule for the day. Her exaggerated gestures and upbeat tone drew polite chuckles from the crowd, but Chase barely noticed. His focus remained on maintaining his anonymity, his lips pressed tightly together to avoid revealing his unnaturally perfect teeth. Even a simple smile could shatter the fragile sense of invisibility he clung to.

The upperclassmen sprinkled throughout the auditorium weren't helping. They looked comfortable, chatting easily, perfectly at home in this environment. Chase envied their ease. He couldn't even sit here without calculating every detail: how much of his face was hidden, how far he was from the door, whether his plain outfit drew too much attention.

This was supposed to be his fresh start. No one here should know who he was. He'd chosen this university, Crestfield, precisely because it was far enough away from his past. In high school, he'd tried to stay under the radar, but it was harder then. People recognized him from middle school, remembered a version of him he couldn't erase. But here? Here he could stay anonymous. He just had to make it through orientation without any slip-ups.

The slideshow continued on the projector, bright colors flickering against the dim auditorium. Chase shifted in his seat, glancing briefly at the crowd around him. For now, he was safe. No one was looking at him, and that was all that mattered.

After what felt like an eternity of speeches, the lights in the auditorium brightened slightly, signaling a transition. The final speaker, another student representative, stepped up to the microphone.

"Thank you all for your patience and attention," they said, their voice bright but not overly enthusiastic. "Orientation at Crestfield University is a three-day process, with sessions spaced out to give you time to settle in and prepare for the start of classes. Over these days, you'll receive your dorm assignments, finalize schedules, and attend sessions designed to set you up for success academically and socially. Today, we'll focus on familiarizing you with the campus layout."

A ripple of movement passed through the audience as students began sitting up straighter or stretching after the long session. Chase remained still, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie pocket.

"Right now," the speaker continued, "you're invited to take part in guided campus tours led by our orientation leaders. These tours are designed to familiarize you with key locations like the library, dining hall, student union, and academic buildings. Afterward, you'll have some free time to explore on your own. Think of this as a chance to find your favorite study spot—or maybe just the best coffee on campus."

The orientation leader grinned, gesturing toward the exit doors where other leaders were gathering, holding signs with group numbers. "We'll reconvene in the afternoon for dorm room assignments and a few quick housekeeping items. Once that's done, you're free to enjoy the rest of the day. The day after tommorow, we'll dive into more of the logistics—like getting your IDs, confirming your schedules, and meeting with advisors. For now, take it easy, ask questions, and get to know your new home."

The crowd began to stir, the ambient noise rising as students filed out of the auditorium in small groups. Chase waited a beat longer, letting the row in front of him clear before he stood. He shoved his hands deep into his hoodie pocket, keeping his gaze low as he merged into the flow of people. The hallway beyond the auditorium buzzed with excitement and chatter, a mix of nervous freshmen and easy-going upperclassmen.

The groups formed quickly, each orientation leader gathering their assigned students. Chase lingered at the edges, pretending to tie his shoe while deciding which group to join. The idea of following a crowd around campus wasn't exactly appealing, but wandering alone might draw just as much attention.

He finally slipped into a smaller group near the back, keeping his distance but close enough to blend in. As the orientation leader started rattling off facts about Crestfield's history and pointing out landmarks, Chase let the words wash over him. For now, his goal was simple: remain unnoticed.

The campus tour wove through Crestfield University's sprawling grounds, a blend of modern amenities and classical architecture. Chase trailed at the back of the group, half-listening as the leader pointed out the buildings. The library was their first stop, and its grandeur wasn't something Chase could ignore.

The building stood tall with large arched windows that gleamed in the midday light. Its brick facade, ivy creeping along the corners, gave it a timeless feel. Inside, high vaulted ceilings made the space feel open and vast, while rows of oak shelves stretched toward the sky, packed with books old and new. Students quietly moved through the aisles, some tapping at laptops in individual study cubicles, others huddled in collaborative spaces on the second floor. Chase made a mental note to come back—it seemed like the perfect spot to read in peace, tucked away from prying eyes.

Next was the dining hall, a stark contrast to the library. Its glass exterior reflected the sunlight, and the smell of food wafted through the open doors. Inside, it was a bustling hub of activity, with students grabbing everything from classic comfort foods to freshly made sushi. There was even a smoothie bar tucked into one corner, the whir of blenders adding to the ambient noise.

As the tour continued, the group passed a cluster of shops and eateries nestled into a student center that was practically a mini-mall. There was a coffee shop, a convenience store, and even an internet café—something Chase had never seen in his hometown. It all felt so convenient, so carefully curated to meet every possible student need. The guide mentioned that just outside campus was a larger mall, only a 15-minute walk away.

Chase perked up at that, though he kept his face neutral. He already knew about the mall—it was close to his new apartment. After high school, he'd moved out of his old town and into a small place near Crestfield. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was his own space. The monthly checks his mom sent made sure of that.

Twenty-five thousand dollars a month. The thought of it still made him feel odd, like he was living a life that didn't quite belong to him. He didn't spend extravagantly—just enough to cover his rent, groceries, and the occasional splurge on a new game or book. But the envelope arriving every month, always with that lipstick mark on the seal, was a mystery he couldn't solve. He'd never seen his mother, not once. His father had only said that she was beautiful, kind, and "complicated."

His father. Chase felt a pang in his chest at the memory. Eighth grade had been the worst year of his life. His dad, who had always been strict but fair, was gone in an instant—an accident that no one had been able to prevent. Chase had clung to his father's advice even after his passing, studying hard and doing his best to avoid trouble. But it wasn't enough to fill the void.

"You look just like your mother," his dad used to say, usually when Chase complained about the attention his appearance drew. "Don't be ashamed of it. Be proud."

But pride wasn't something Chase had ever felt. All he'd wanted was to blend in, to be normal. Even now, with his dyed hair and plain clothes, he wasn't sure he'd ever truly achieve that.

The group stopped at a shaded courtyard filled with benches and flowering trees, and Chase shook off his thoughts. The tour guide explained that the orientation would continue over the next two days, covering dorm assignments, schedule finalizations, and ID distribution. For now, they were free to explore on their own.

Chase lingered by the edge of the group, pretending to check his phone. He'd had enough socializing for one day. He just needed to find a quiet corner of campus where he could think—and maybe start to believe that this fresh start might actually work.

The group of freshmen followed the guide, their footsteps echoing through the hallways as they continued their tour of the campus. Chase listened intently, his mind drifting between the excitement of the day and the constant buzz of trying to remain unnoticed.

At one point, the group was ushered into another spacious auditorium where a senior stood ready to explain the dorms. She was a tall, confident girl with long, wavy auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her uniform was neat, but the playful glint in her eyes suggested she wasn't just another senior regurgitating rules. Chase couldn't help but notice how effortlessly she commanded the room, a mix of authority and charm.

"Alright, now for the part you've all been waiting for," she began, tapping the microphone lightly before launching into her explanation. "Dorms here at Crestfield University are in co-ed buildings, but the boys' and girls' rooms are on separate sides of each floor, so don't get any ideas about 'accidentally' wandering over to the other side." She flashed a playful smile, making it clear she was just teasing, but Chase couldn't help but wonder if she was testing the waters for mischief.

"Each dorm comes with two bedrooms, a shared living room, kitchen, bathroom, and a common study area," she continued. "It's pretty spacious for the most part, and you're free to rearrange it however you like. Most students don't ever change their dorm rooms throughout their whole time here. It's a big part of settling in, so make it comfortable and personal. Just don't get caught doing anything you shouldn't, and everything should be smooth sailing."

Chase's brow furrowed for a moment. Rearrange it however you like, she'd said. It seemed like a lot of freedom, especially considering the rules on curfew and visitors. The girl explained the rest of the dorm rules, but he couldn't stop thinking about how comfortable the students were expected to get—four years in the same room?

"Now, curfew is at 10:00 PM sharp, so make sure you're back in your rooms by then," the senior continued, her voice taking on a playful edge as she flashed a mischievous grin. "However," she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like it was a big secret, "before 6:00 PM, boys and girls are allowed to visit each other's dorms. Just remember to keep it low-key. And don't forget, we have two floor managers for each floor—one male and one female, just to make sure everything's running smoothly." She winked, and a few students chuckled nervously.

"Additionally," she added, her voice becoming more serious, "students are allowed to visit each other's rooms if they need to work on projects or collaborate for assignments. This is especially helpful if you have group work or need to study in pairs. Just remember to respect the shared space and be considerate of your roommates. Keep it organized and quiet so that everyone feels comfortable."

Chase couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It sounded like a decent balance—allowing students to interact while also maintaining a certain level of privacy and control. After all, with all the independence of college life, it was bound to be chaotic if the rules weren't laid out properly.

As the senior wrapped up her explanation, she waved a hand toward the back of the auditorium where three long tables were set up, each with nine lines of students waiting. "Okay, now it's time to get your dorm assignments and keys," she said. "Please line up at one of these tables, and we'll hand out your ID cards and room keys. It's all pretty simple—just make sure you keep your key safe! If you lose it, you'll be stuck dealing with a replacement fee."

The students shuffled out of their seats, forming lines. Chase followed the crowd, making his way toward one of the tables. When he reached the front, a senior handed him a small envelope containing his ID card and a key. His fingers brushed the card as he slid it out, glancing at the details on it: his assigned dorm, room number, and the name of the floor manager on duty.

"You'll find out who your roommate is when school starts," the senior said, handing over the envelope with a smile. "For now, focus on getting comfortable. You'll have a few days to settle in before everything officially kicks off." She paused and added with a wink, "But you're going to need to be careful with that key. You don't want to end up locked out of your own dorm."

Chase nodded, carefully tucking the envelope into his jacket. The senior continued explaining as students around him received their dorm assignments. He looked down at his card: Building A, Room 212B. He assumed it was on the second floor, a small detail that made him wonder if his building was as quiet as it looked from the outside.

The sound of chatter filled the air as students milled around, comparing their assignments and talking about their first impressions of the campus. For a moment, Chase lingered near the tables, feeling the weight of the envelope in his hands. The reality of college was starting to settle in.

Chase lingered by the tables, still lost in thought as other students moved through the lines to pick up their dorm assignments. It was a bit chaotic, and even though he had his key and ID, his mind was already drifting toward the details of what was next. I believe they said we could move into our dorms a few days before school starts, he mused. He could almost picture himself settling into the space, getting to know his roommate—whoever that turned out to be—and trying to get comfortable before classes began. I hope he's not a jerk, Chase added silently. The thought of a difficult roommate, especially at the beginning of college, wasn't something he was looking forward to.

He shook his head, still trying to push away thoughts of the unknown, and began walking toward the exit. The sun was starting to set, casting an amber hue over the campus, and the rising moon added an eerie calm to the evening. Chase let out a soft sigh. At least there wasn't any more orientation tomorrow. He was eager to get home and unwind.

But as he neared a side street near the edge of campus, something caught his attention. Up ahead, three burly men were following a girl, an upperclassman by the looks of her, judging by her worn but comfortable clothes. She seemed to be trying to ignore them, walking faster as she glanced over her shoulder every so often. The men didn't let up, closing the gap between them with every step.

Chase's heart raced. Something didn't feel right about the situation. He overheard one of the men say something that made his stomach drop, the words soaked in threat: "You don't want to talk? Fine. Let's see if you'll talk when we're done with you."

Another man chuckled darkly, his voice low and menacing. The third one added coldly, "You'll learn to show respect when spoken to. It'll be the hard way, but you'll learn."

Chase felt his gut twist. His mind raced, heart pounding as he tried to assess the situation. He wasn't strong, not like these men, and he knew he wasn't prepared to fight. Yet, every instinct screamed at him to act.

Before he even realized it, his legs carried him forward. He quickened his pace, drawing closer to the alley they had just entered, his hands clenched into fists despite the trembling in his fingers. He began walking faster, nearing the alley they had just entered.

Then the noise hit him. The girl's angry mutterings faded into harsh sounds: loud cracks, bones breaking, followed by grunts of pain and struggle. Chase's breath caught in his throat. He was too late—he was hearing things he shouldn't.

By the time he reached the alley, the men were gone. The sounds had ceased, leaving only a lingering sense of violence in the air. Chase's eyes darted around, searching for any sign of the men, but there was nothing.

Then he saw her.

The girl was sprawled on the ground, her body limp and unconscious, but still radiating an eerie beauty despite her vulnerable position. As she lay there, Chase couldn't help but notice her striking appearance. She was tall—easily around 5'11"—her long, slender legs stretched out beneath her in a graceful arc. Her dark hair, as black as the night sky, shimmered silver in the moonlight, giving it an almost supernatural glow.

Her skin, pale as porcelain and glowing softly under the moon, added to her ethereal beauty. Chase's gaze moved downward, catching the curve of her figure as her body rested on the ground. She had a well-proportioned, feminine shape—her natural curves accentuated in the way her clothes fit, with a firm, shapely backside and a bust that, while not overly large, was perfectly sized and proportionate to her frame. Even sprawled on the ground, she radiated an almost otherworldly allure. Despite her current state, she remained the most captivating person Chase had ever seen.

Chase knelt beside her, confusion and fear flooding his mind. He couldn't understand what had happened. The sounds he'd heard didn't match the condition of the girl. There were no signs of assault or injury—just the eerie silence now that the men had vanished.

He glanced around once more, but there was no one. He felt a chill run down his spine. What the hell just happened? He hesitated momentarily, unsure what to do, but eventually pulled out his phone to call for help. He couldn't just leave her there, not after everything he had just heard.