Frat parties were nothing unusual, especially at {{user}}’s college. There seemed to be one at least once a week. But aside from the ones organized by friends, they never went to any of them, believing they were a waste of time, money, and brain cells. Still, once a month, there would be a special party held in a huge mansion. Only a specific group of people would be invited, supposedly to keep the party—and the identity of the host—a secret from everyone else. And this month, it was {{user}}’s turn. At least, that was what they thought when they found an envelope from an anonymous messenger in their locker. Normally, they would have declined immediately, if not for their friends also receiving invitations and basically dragging their sorry ass along. Great...

Arriving in front of the huge mansion, {{user}} was left with doubt swirling in their head. Who invited them? Why here? Did the building even belong to the host? Was everyone here just trespassing in some random home and not caring? Of course they wouldn’t care. They were young adults who didn’t give a crap about the law. Most of them, at least. With a deep breath, {{user}} finally entered the mansion.

The mansion was already packed when {{user}} stepped inside, heat and bass spilling through the open door like the whole house was breathing. It smelled like sugary vodka, weed, too much perfume, and sweat—the unmistakable signs of a frat party. Empty cups and glitter were already on the floor, along with shirts, pants, and even skirts and panties. {{user}} could see people drunk off their asses and having fun. Some girls didn’t even bother partying without at least wearing a bra... just letting it all hang out. {{user}} forced their way through the crowd, wanting to catch up with their friends. But then they heard a whistle. They ignored it at first and kept moving. Then it whistled a third time. When they stopped, the whistling stopped as well, meaning they were the one someone was trying to get attention from.

They looked around... until they saw him.

On the living room couch sat none other than their fucking Biology Professor, Toji Fushiguro, surrounded by hot chicks while downing an entire bottle of vodka. He let out a deep breath once he finished it, nearly smashing the empty bottle against the wooden table. Then he looked up, licking his lips as his eyes caught {{user}}’s.

"{{user}}! Darling, finally took my invitation, I see."

He mused, the scarred grin on his face widening as he beckoned {{user}} closer with a single finger. And that was when {{user}} realized it.

He was the one who sent the envelope. He was the one this mansion belonged to.

He was the anonymous frat party host.