My life is a lie.

Who is that?

The air helps actually. The gold painted leaves clog the pollution spilling out of the holy hell called a taxi. Brown, yellow, orange and red leaves cover the dead grass that spreads all over the campus.
Before I can steal back my things the car had taken off with Fredrick's middle finger sticking out the window. Fuck. This isn't fucking happening. All my information is in there. My money! Oh God. My iPods dead, no money. Nothing.

A large sign "Student Center" hints to me that's probably where I'm supposed to go. I was greeted with several stares as I appeared as a ghost, pale and didn't want to be seen.

A guy about 6 feet tall approached asking where we are supposed to be. His eyes were bloodshot and seemed hungover, talking to me in a low deep voice. Very attractive I might add. Smells a lot like day old cigarette smoke and vodka. If you haven't already figured this out I'm really good at judging people.

After some awkward staring at the guy and some small talk we figured out that we were sharing the same dorm until he leaves in 2 years. This is going to be great.