Tonight, the Vortex Club threw another huge party. You decided to spend the evening elsewhere.

It’s quite late at night when you drove back to your dorm. Right after leaving the parking lot, you hear a strained groan amongst the muffled music from the party at the swimming pool.

You could barely see someone sitting on the ground: Warren Graham, all by himself, the smell of alcohol coming from him. He was doing absolutely miserable and no one was looking out for him.