Remembrance (Nash Grier)

Chapter 1

I don't know what to think as I stare at the combined space you can barely call a room, shared between a stranger I have yet to meet and I.

I don't even bother to be quiet as it nears almost one in the morning when I toss my bags onto the floor of this room they like to call a dorm. I wasn't expecting to arrive to the campus this late, but some idiot driving ten under the speed limit decided he was going to make my day a living hell and drive in front of me for the last two and a half hours of my trip. I mean I'm not saying I would've driven much over the speed limit to get here as my 1998 Toyota Tundra can barely make it past 70 before spitting out random noises, indicating that it is about to fall apart.

You'd think that with my family being as wealthy as they are, they'd be willing to buy my a new car that doesn't break down every few hundred miles. But they insisted I inherit my grandpas old truck for "good memories" until I can raise enough money to get my own car. They are trying to teach me responsibility I guess.

"What the fuck?" A small, croaky voice sounds through the small room and my eyes widen in surprise. I wasn't expecting my roommate to be here, the dorm advisor said that she's almost never here and at frat party of some sort.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't expecting you to be here." I incoherently mumbled the last part, hoping she wouldn't catch on to my insinuation.

I hear her deeply chuckle before stumbling over to the other side of the room and switching the lamp on. I am met by a very small human, maybe around 5'1" at the most, who has a knowing smirk plastered on her cute face.

"I guess Willis told you about how I'm never here, huh?" Her voice is much deeper that I expected coming from such a small person now that she is awake.

"Willis?" I'm not aware of the name she just threw at me.

"Oh sorry, Dr. Grover." She says his name in a posh accent that is actually quite a good impression of the man I spoke to just thirty minutes ago. A small chuckle escapes my lips.

"Well I'll have you know, I'm not the drunken whore he makes me out to be. I'd say I drink and have sex as much as the average human does." She puts a hand on her hip and rolls her eyes but still carries the smirk on her face from earlier.

I want to laugh at how open she is, but I feel somewhat intimidated by her even though I just met her and I tower over her a good six inches.

"But anyways, I'm Miranda and welcome to CCPA. Where all your dreams of becoming a famous asshole are like 56% of becoming true." She shrugs before walking over to me and picking up my bags. She carries them to the undecorated side of the room where she once stood and places them on a twin size bed.

"This will be your side of the room. Decorate it how you like, but don't put playboy posters on the wall or they will make you take them down. I found that out myself." She mumbles the last sentence under her breath but I caught it anyways and I raise my eyebrows but I don't question it.

"Thank you." My voice comes out much weaker than I would've liked but as I've stayed here longer, my nerves begin to finally set in.

I never really thought about what college I wanted to go to until my father convinced me to go to a little singing competition with him. Long story short, I ended up liking it a lot more than I expected and going more often. I started to get noticed by more and more people and eventually, the chancellor of the California College of Performing Arts met with me about joining this school on a full scholarship.

At first I didn't think I deserved it because I knew one of the only reasons I got it was because they were sucking up to my dad, but I did really want to pursue my singing career and follow in my dads footsteps. Plus, the campus is only 6 hours from home so I can visit whenever I would like.