1- REIDEL HALL

~Collin~

Do you ever wake up to realize it's resumption day?

Another struggle to fight ugly stares that can rip off your clothes?

Well, I am about to face it in less than two hours.

But, hey, we are Collin.

They don't define us!

We're handsome!

Brave!

We are gorgeous!

"Come on, Collin. Hurry!" Dad shouts from downstairs.

My feet run down the tiled floor to the closet before I am dry. I have to quit my beauty bath because of his impatience.

I stand in front of my closet, surrounded by a sea of fabric and colors.

Every outfit I own seems to call out for my attention.

I reach for a hanger holding a vintage beige shirt and hold it up against me in front of the mirror.

It is classic and corporate, but now it doesn't feel like a day for playing it safe.

I toss it aside.

I grab a pair of vibrant red shorts—the ones I'd worn to Pride Month.

It is a showstopper, but it also screams 'special occasion.'

Today is just a regular Sunday evening.

"You're wasting time, for God knows what!" The second time, Dad chants in a loud, irate tone.

I settle on a simple white t-shirt, tight denim blue jean pants, white Converse, perfume, light makeup, lip gloss, and a few accessories before heading downstairs to see my dad taking the last sip of his morning black coffee.

"Finally! Shall we?" He chirps, dangling his car key in front of my face. I struggle with the luggage out of the house and he locks the door behind me.

Daddy continues. "Give me one reason why I should not kill you right now?"

"Because you love me, Daddy," I wink, getting inside the car, and buckling up my seat belt.

"You take a lot of time, Collin. You need to stop it," He mumbles, sinking back in the steering, and a blink, we are on the road.

It is my second year at Gotham City College.

A line of new, childish faces greets us at the gate checkpoint as we drive in—some zipping up their bags after being searched, and others with exhausted expressions, their faces furrowed, battling the scorching sun.

I had the same relentless experience last year, but it yielded the biggest mistake of my life. It's a blessing that I won't have to meet my ex-roommate again.

It was his usual, and I had grown accustomed to walking into the room's toilet only to find streaks of poop.

Not only that, he made my nights hell by playing loud music, even if I warned him to stop.

This is the time to secure that perfect room. Lucky to have Sunday until more students resume. A tidy living space can make a big difference, won't it?

"Hope you'll be fine?" Dad asks as he parks, finding my eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Of course, sir," I murmur with a faint smile, my hand resting on his shoulder before I tighten my grip on the door handle and slide out of the wagon.

He follows behind, his voice warm as he says, "Let me help you with those bags."

We make our way past the car parks, heading toward the security checkpoint.

It is impossible not to notice a few guys whose eyes remain fixed on me.

Yes. I turn heads, but it's the silly ones.

I am curvy, and it attracts fools that either have bad things to say about how I walk or how girly my voice is, or they crawl at my bosom seeking a date.

"I want to stroke your hair and whisper in your left ear, 'I love you'." These were the exact words of a so-called straight basketballer here on campus last year before he had me wrapped around his hands.

Why me?

Am I a slut?

Maybe I wronged someone in my past life.

All they come for is sex, sex, sex.

Thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach.

It feels like everything is my fault.

Sometimes, it makes me want to cry.

But I will be fine. Not only that, I can handle this. There is no need to panic over their husky eyes.

I have decided never to pay attention to the fake promises they spill out from their tongues, eager to satisfy their manly rods.

Despite the mess in my head, I sit in the waiting area. Dad approaches me after making inquiries with the security desk.

"Please, Collin," he says, his voice filled with affection, "be careful."

Why is he speaking like we won't see him again?

"You know I always am. It's just one year." I chuckle and reply.

He strokes my hazel hair and grabs my chin. He has a flawless knack for playing with emotions.

"I can't help worrying about you. Call me often, okay?"

"I will, Dad."

"I'll miss you," I add.

I had to slip off his grip; this baby boy doesn't want his mascara streaked.

I make my way to the staff before another student takes my space.

"Open up quickly, young man," the furious-looking security man exclaims when I fumble with the key locks on the zipper of my bag.

It finally opens, and my cheeks flush as his grimy hands rumple against the shirts that took me three painstaking days to iron, fold, and pack, looking for hell knows what.

"Collin Maverick"

I say this to the tired-looking secretary sitting at the other table, in front of his computer, while the security man continues with his search.

He looks up at me and then scrolls through the computer, searching forever. "Collin Bryan Maverick?" he asks after a second, and I nod.

My palms are sweaty, and my feet are trembling. I yearn for a miracle—a pleasant room and a compatible roommate.

"Riedel Hall, Room 36," The secretary extends the searing paper from the printer to me.

I scream and turn a few heads; I even try to protest for a change of hostel, but the security man waves me off.

I know I am brave, but Riedel Hall is out-of-bounds for people like me. The boys in that hall are toxic, they can do something silly to me.

Without a second thought, I reach for my phone and dial Dad's number. The phone rings, but there is no answer. I try again and again, but his line remains unreachable.

My legs are aching and it is getting late. The sky is a bit misty as if it will rain for a while.

In no time, I find myself seated in a taxi, heading to a place I never imagined I'd be—the dirtiest and most homophobic male residence of the university.

After a rough year at Pernswood, I'm just a few miles from my new nightmare.

My eyes shift to the boys in a heated argument, just as we're reaching the building. One of them turns around without waiting for a response, punching the other guy in the nose.

Seriously?

I'm not in yet, but I'm already receiving spotlights.

I shiver

Guys like this scare me!

RIEDEL HALL scares me!