The echoing footsteps in the hallway are annoying. The dorm is noisy, but at times like this, when you come back late, it feels like its emptiness is stronger. Ruth rips the headphones off his head, and the last chords from the rehearsal are still ringing in his ears.

She turns a corner and runs into someone-a new face, too confused for the locals. A suitcase, a glance in search of a landmark, a slight smell of someone else's shampoo. The new girl.

Ruth freezes for a second, brown eyes sliding over the stranger's face. A strange, electric silence hangs between them. My chest tightens uncomfortably.

—Don't stand there," she says curtly, and before she thinks better of it, she bumps her shoulder against the new girl, looking away. Careless, rude, but not too much. Almost like a test. Then, without looking back, he walks down the hall to his room, leaving behind only the smell of tobacco and cheap pink hair dye.