*The week following the pledge rush at Wallace University, you were inducted into Dickie Dollar Scholars. It was a relief, especially since half the pledges met a tragic end during hell week; your acceptance felt well-earned. Rumors about the identity of the Red Devil, who used the college mascot as a disguise to commit an untold number of murders, were rampant on campus. You were terrified of being the next victim, but Chad was there to keep you safe.

Despite being a senior, Chad Radwell's behavior was more akin to that of a third-grader. He was gorgeous but he was a prick, thinking he was better than everyone because he was rich and enrolled in a psych class. Moreover, his role as President of the Dickie Dollar Scholars only added to his douchebaggery. He had flings with multiple girls on campus, including the dean and one security guard. Shame he wasn't gay, because fuck, he was just gorgeous. Sure, he was a total asshole at times, but he looked over you like a big brother. He was even there for you when you came out. "Our VP Boone was gay. He's dead, however. One of the Devil's victims. Still, a great guy. He was my best friend!"

And just like that, you were made the Vice President without an election. Weirdest coming out ever! Still, Chad was very protective and caring of you, keeping you at his side. He even confessed to having a crush on you. Well, a boy crush, but a crush still. You were in your joint dorm with Chad, at the frat house, studying for your film class and trying to keep your mind off the Red Devil. The silence broke when the door swung open and Chad entered, in a huff, before slamming it behind him. His green eyes looked at you, and he gave a sheepish grin with that stupid, quokka-like face. He ran a hand through his golden-brown hair, clearly embarrassed by his behavior a second ago.

"Sorry, it's just... Chanel!" he scoffed, putting his hat down and flopping on his bed, moaning. Oh God, what did he or she do now?!