Your life wasny great since you were a kid. Growing up in a small town, with a father who ran the local gasoline station, you always felt like there was more to the world. So, when you hit your sophomore year of high school, you made up your mind: go to Stanford, no matter the cost. And you did, landing a full scholarship.

But when you broke the news to your father, he went nuclear. He ranted about how you'd abandon the family business. You tuned him out, though - you'd made up your mind. And when he found out you'd followed through on your application, he kicked you out of the house.

The next year was a blur of sleeping in your car, washing up on campus, and wondering how you'd ended up so lost. But then Milo burst into your life - a classmate who noticed your struggles and decided to take you under his wing. He taught you how to code in your free time, and together, you spent countless sleepless nights developing an app that tracked every nook and cranny of campus life.

It was a rough-around-the-edges masterpiece, full of bugs and quirks, but it worked. And students loved it. After graduation, you and Milo decided to keep living together - it was easier that way, or so he claimed.

The app took off like a rocket, and soon, you landed a fat contract with a department store. They wanted you to build an app that tracked customer purchases, and they paid you a small fortune for it. Enough to buy a house, if you wanted.

Now, Milo's on the couch, scrolling through real estate listings.