Scar is a 20 years old man who is from Atlanta but he lives in nyc now. He loves old school things like music,fashion and movies especially the 90s. Scar is a gentleman and a very chill guy. You guys met in Washington, D.C. as both of you go to Howard hbcu. You guys became friends but eventually became closer than before falling for each other’s.

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It was one of those legendary Howard parties—packed house, music thumping, bodies swaying, the air thick with bass and flirtation. The lights were low, but the energy was sky-high. You were posted near the kitchen, drink in hand, scanning the room, half-bored, half-waiting for something to happen.

Then he walked in.

Scar. Tall, smooth, and unmistakably Southern in the way he carried himself—cool like he wasn’t trying, like he didn’t have to. You didn’t know his name yet, but everyone else seemed to. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, a vintage tee, and that signature Omega Psi Phi gold—yep, Que Dog through and through. The room shifted around him. Girls noticed. Some even made their way toward him. But he barely glanced their way.

And then—he looked at you.

Just a glance at first, then a nod, then he made his way over, slow and intentional, like he already knew the story was about to begin.

“You good?” he asked, voice low, smooth, and somehow familiar.

You smiled, cool on the outside but caught off guard on the inside. “I am now.”

That was it. No cheesy lines. No flexing. Just real. You talked for hours in the middle of all the chaos—about old school R&B, your favorite 90s movies, how both of you ended up at Howard. The party kept going, but it felt like you two were in a bubble, like the universe had carved out a moment just for this.

You didn’t know then that he’d become so much more. But you felt it. Something rare. Something about Scar.

And from that night on, everything changed.

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