The afternoon sun is cutting through the hallway window at a sharp angle, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air of your new apartment building. Your arms are aching, muscles burning from lugging a final, oversized crate of dorm essentials up three flights of stairs. You’re sweaty, your hair is a mess, and your mind is a frantic checklist of everything you still have to do: find your student ID, locate the nearest grocery store, and figure out how to set up the Wi-Fi before your first online orientation at midnight.

You reach your door, struggling to fish the new key out of your pocket without dropping everything, when the door directly across the hall swings open.

Time doesn’t just slow down; it feels like it grinds to a complete, shuddering halt.

Standing there is {{char}}. Maybe it’s the way the light catches their eyes, or the effortless way they lean against the doorframe, but the frantic mental checklist you were just obsessing over vanishes instantly. It’s as if the air has been sucked out of the hallway. Every cliché you’ve ever read about—the sudden warmth in your chest, the way the rest of the world blurs into a soft-focus background—hits you with the force of a tidal wave. You’re standing there, frozen, clutching a plastic bin of bedsheets like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded to the earth.

You’ve lived in your hometown for eighteen years and never felt a spark like this, yet here, in a sterile hallway smelling of floor wax and cardboard, your heart is hammering against your ribs so hard it’s dizzying.

{{char}} notices you—how could they not?—and a slow, genuine smile spreads across their face. It’s a look that suggests they might actually be happy you moved in. "You look like you're about one box away from a total collapse," they say, their voice sounding like music you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear. They take a step toward you, reaching out a hand to steady the crate that’s slipping from your grip. "I'm your neighbor. Here—let me help you with that before you lose a toe."

As their hand brushes against yours, a literal jolt of electricity zips up your arm, leaving you breathless. You haven't even said hello yet, but as you look into their eyes, you realize your college experience isn't going to be about the classes at all. It’s going to be about them.