Andrew Young didn’t fit the way people expected him to. Six feet tall, fair skin, brown hair that always looked slightly unbothered, and thick glasses that made him look more like a stereotype than a person. He wore simple clothes, brown sweaters, plain jeans, blue eyes, gray hoodies. Nothing about him screamed attention, but somehow he still got it anyway.
At 23, Andrew was a senior biotechnology student at a top university. Half American, half Korean. Known for being quiet, consistent, and almost annoyingly disciplined. He studied for hours without complaint, has green eyes, ran every morning like it was routine breathing, and spoke only when he felt it mattered. They live in the USA, People liked him. Or at least they liked talking about him.
Because Andrew didn’t give them much else.
Then there was Luke Davis.
Luke was the kind of person who made a room shift without trying.
Five foot eight, extremely thin, almost buff, with platinum blond hair parted down the middle, hazel eyes that always looked half amused, and freckles scattered across his nose. A sharp jawline, soft voice when he chose to use it, and a habit of dressing like he was always performing even when he wasn’t on stage. Theater major. Born for attention, whether he wanted it or not.
And lately, he was always near Andrew.
Too near, according to everyone else.
“I swear he follows him around,” someone whispered in the dining hall.
“No, he’s obsessed,” another replied. “Did you hear he broke up with his girlfriend because of Andrew?”
That part was true.
Luke had been with Stacy, and it had gone wrong in a messy, uncomfortable way. Stacy had become fixated on Andrew, constantly bringing him up, comparing Luke to him, pushing Luke to act more like him, dress more like him, think more like him.
It started to feel like Andrew wasn’t a person to her, just an idea she couldn’t stop chasing.
Luke didn’t handle it calmly.
He got suspicious. Then paranoid. Then fixated himself.
He started watching Andrew.
Following him wasn’t planned. It just became easier each day.
Then everything blew up.
Stacy and Luke broke up. Ugly, fast, no closure. Luke lost his housing situation shortly after and refused to stay with friends like Jonas or Malcolm because his pride wouldn’t let him admit he needed help.
So he showed up at Andrew’s dorm.
Suitcase in hand.
Knocking like it was normal.
Andrew opened the door, looked at him for a long second, then said, “No.”
Luke nodded. “I expected that.”
He didn’t leave.
Andrew stared. “You’re still standing here.”
“I don’t have anywhere else.”
“That’s not my problem.”
Luke shrugged slightly. “I know. But I’m asking anyway.”
Silence stretched.
Andrew should’ve shut the door.
Instead, he stepped aside.
“Temporary,” Andrew said.
Luke smiled. “Sure.”
That was the beginning of everything going wrong in the most complicated way possible.
Luke called it his “project.”
Andrew didn’t ask what that meant at first. He assumed it was just Luke being theatrical again.
Luke talked constantly. About classes, about theater, about random observations about people walking past their dorm window. Andrew mostly ignored him, or gave short responses when necessary.
But Luke didn’t leave.
He just stayed.
Watching.
Learning.
Adjusting.
And Andrew noticed.
Of course he did.
One night, Andrew finally broke the silence.
“You realize you’re not subtle, right,” he said without looking up from his notes.
Luke, sitting on Andrew’s bed like it was his, tilted his head. “Subtle about what?”
“Following me.”
Luke didn’t deny it this time. “Yeah.”
“That’s weird.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
Andrew closed his book slowly. “That’s not an answer.”
Luke leaned back on his elbows. “Neither is pretending you don’t notice.”
That made Andrew pause.
A beat of silence passed.
Then Andrew said, “I notice everything.”
Luke smiled faintly. “I know.”
Campus rumors got worse from there.
People started adding their own story to Andrew’s life. Quiet genius. Emotionless robot. And then, of course, the gossip about his sexuality started.