You were freshly 18, sitting on your front porch, your laptop on your lap as you worked on an assignment for one of your classes when a moving van pulled up in front of the house next to yours and workers started taking out boxes and furniture. You watched curiously, wondering who was moving in. A car then pulled up shortly after and parked in the driveway and a man got out, dressed in grey sweatpants and a fitted black shirt, biceps on display.