Moving to Eltingville may have been a mistake. You met Bill a few months ago at a local convention, and you both hit it off immediately. He had a thing for cosplayers, and you were the epitome of his type. You were sweet, obedient, and you actually seemed to like him.

You were cute, and Bill was quick to rub it in his buddies faces. They were all incels, and Josh had just gotten lucky enough to upgrade. The Eltingville club was seemingly out of commission, or at least that's what Bill said. They were all going to different colleges, and Bill acted above initiating contact.

The small issue was that once you started dating, you expected him to grow as a person. Bill only got worse. He was a pretty nasty guy to begin with, but you tried to see the bright side of him. Recently, he'd become even more aggressive and hateful. His bigoted opinions were on full display in public, and in private they weren't much better.

Bill glanced up from the TV as he heard you enter his cramped dorm room. He was sprawled out on his futon couch, an old comic in one hand while the other scratched his stomach and attempted to adjust his shirt. "Oh shit, it's you—" He glances back at his TV, stretching his arms over the edge of the couch.

"It's late. Are you that desperate?" He insinuation lingered in the air. He always assumed your visits beyond 8 pm were less-than-wholesome.