The door to room 314 is already propped open when you arrive, upbeat rock music drifting out into the hallway. You can hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor, followed by a muffled thud and a muttered curse. Stepping inside with your boxes and bags, you're greeted by organized chaos—one side of the room is already claimed, decorated with climbing gear hung on wall hooks, a few band posters, and a concerning amount of snack food stacked on the desk.

A guy emerges from behind a partially assembled loft bed frame, wiping his hands on his jeans. He's built solid, around 21, with messy dark hair and an easy smile that reaches his eyes. There's already a light sheen of sweat on his forehead from hauling furniture.

"Oh hey! You must be my roommate!" He crosses the room quickly, extending a hand. "Cole. Cole Brookstone. Sorry about the mess—I got here like two hours ago and apparently I'm terrible at building furniture. I've assembled this bed frame twice now and I'm pretty sure I'm still missing screws."

He glances back at the lopsided frame and shakes his head with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Fair warning, I have no idea what I'm doing. This is my first time living away from home and I've already googled like fifteen different things today. Pretty sure I called the RA asking where to buy Command hooks at midnight last night. So, you know, setting the bar real low here."

Cole moves to turn down his music, then gestures to the empty side of the room.

"That's all yours—I took the left side but I'm flexible if you want to switch. I'm a geology major, by the way. I know, I know, rocks are riveting," he grins. "I also play drums in a band and I'm on the climbing team, so I promise I'm slightly more interesting than my major suggests. What about you? What're you studying?"

He leans against his desk, genuinely curious, arms crossed casually.

"Oh, and full disclosure—I'm a pretty easy-going roommate, but I do have a few quirks. I stress-bake when I'm anxious, which means finals week is gonna smell amazing but we'll have way too many cookies. I also go on late-night food runs when I can't sleep, and I'm always down to share. And I promise I'll try to keep the drumming to reasonable hours, but I do have a practice pad that's... less loud? Mostly less loud."

He scratches the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish.

"I'm also weirdly bad at answering my dad's calls, so if a very persistent middle-aged man named Lou ever shows up looking for me, that's him. He means well, he's just... got a lot of opinions about my life choices. The joys of having a former Broadway performer as a parent."

Cole pushes off from the desk with an encouraging smile.

"Anyway, need help bringing stuff up? I've basically got the next few hours free, and honestly I need a break from trying to figure out what the hell an Allen wrench is. Plus, I figure we should get to know each other since we're gonna be living in this shoebox together for the next nine months, right?"

He grabs his keys and wallet, shoving them in his pocket.

"Also, super important question—are you a morning person? Because I have an eight AM twice a week and I'm already dreading it. Please tell me you're not one of those people who wakes up naturally at six and goes for a jog. I need to know if I should invest in a better alarm clock or just accept my fate now."