I’d spent almost all day interviewing potential roommates at a coffee shop near my apartment and, as I’d thought, finding a roommate would be difficult this time of year. I could only find five candidates but meeting them now… it makes sense why they don’t have a place to live. The last candidate is almost 30 minutes late, at this point I might leave. The entire thing feels like a waste of time, I probably should look for roommates outside of the college…

  “A-are… are you Roan?” a voice asked. When I looked up from my table a femboy was standing right in front of me. When our eyes met he gave me a warm smile and a small wave.

  “Ah,” I paused, “...yeah, sit down.” This very pretty man took a seat in front of me and never removed his gaze from my face. “You’re… “ I hesitated, trying to remember his name, “Henry, right?”

  Henry smiled sweetly and chuckled lightly, “that’s me!”

  “Tell me about yourself,” I said lightly, I felt like I’ve been saying this all day. Oh right, I have.

  “I’m a second-year college student, 21, and I’m majoring in Liberal Arts.” Henry maintained his smile and it was beginning to look sinister.

  “What are your expectations for roommates?”

  “Well I’d love to be very close with my roommates, living in a space with an acquaintance sounds quite uncomfortable,” Henry apprehensively chuckled. I’ve been doing that for three years.

  “I don’t particularly want to be friends with my potential roommate, I have to focus on graduation and moving. I won’t have time to play,” I explained offhand. Henry gave me an extremely pitiful look and attempted to give me puppy dog eyes.

  “Maybe I can be an exception?” Henry smiled warily.

  “Uh-”

  “Don’t worry about it just yet!” Henry cut me off, “we can come back to it when we start living together.”

  What? What is he even saying?

  “So what are you looking for in a roommate?” Henry smiled.

  “Someone clean, quiet, and respectful,” I answered firmly.

  Henry clapped his hands together happily, “I am all those things!”

  I stared at Henry. I could smell his dirty clothes, and his hair looked so greasy that it almost appeared wet. I don’t like to make assumptions but Henry seemed to be anything but quiet and considerate. His fake laughter, loud voice, and unwelcomed flirtation solidified the fact he doesn’t care about boundaries. Some people might believe that respect has to be earned, but I didn’t want to live with someone who crossed the ones I set so carefully.

  “I can pay rent and bills on time!” Henry replied loudly, people looked our way.

  A rush of apprehension went through my body, Henry seemed like a nice person. I don’t want to make this a whole thing, “...okay…”

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  “Sorry,” Henry apologized with an empty laugh. “You’re really attractive, I wasn't expecting that,” Henry looked away embarrassingly. As innocent and naive as he looks, Henry was definitely not those two things. “This is so much like a date, don’t you think?”

  It took every single cell in my body to not reflect my annoyance on my face, “I don’t but I can understand the connection.” I replied with a fake smile and Henry’s smile disappeared.

  Henry’s eyes searched the room in a panic and let out a nervous laugh, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

  “I don’t think we can live together, sorry,” I interrupted Henry with a smile. “I’m not looking for anything romantic right now either.”

  “I see…” Henry replied softly, he stood up with a pained look in his eyes. “I’ll get going now.”

  The walk home felt endless even with it only being five minutes away, I shouldn’t be so picky with finding a roommate but I can’t see myself tolerating a bad one at that for so long. Finding one later in the year would be a worst case scenario. Saving money would be even harder at that point.

  It was routine, every day for three weeks I pull up my budget sheet at home and pathetically stare at it until I want to eat my feelings. James moved out quicker than I thought and I essentially had the apartment to myself since his proclamation of moving out. I could make it five months before dipping into my savings…

  Yeah, I shouldn’t be as picky.

  Several hours of dissociation later and I was pulled back in the moment when Cece rushed through my door. She pushed, pushed, and pushed until I finally gave in and followed her to a house party.

  “Stop being such a sour puss,” Cece smiled, pinching my cheeks.

  “Ehm, stap,” I tried to say while she was holding onto my cheeks.

  “Sorry, sorry,” she chuckled. “Seriously, enjoy yourself! Your professor literally told you to have fun.”

  “Doesn’t that sound weird?”

  “It would if it wasn’t an arts major,” Cece shrugged. “I have to fight to find some free time! Man…” Cece sighed, “being a senior sucks. Everyone has all these plans on what they want to do after college. How is that possible? We still have two semesters left…”

  “And you were telling me to not be such a sour puss,” I smirked.

  “Hey!” She nearly shouted. “I’m not being a sour puss.” She stopped for a moment and gave me a devious smile, “I’m just complaining!” She then shrugged. “Indulge me.”

  The night started off pretty relaxed but as it progressed people became more and more inebriated. Which, honestly, made me that much more grateful for not drinking in the first place. Watching Cece throwing back drinks was enough for me to feel tipsy on soda alone. It felt good, interacting with people. Not talking about school, writing, or money gave me momentary peace. As much as I wanted to drink, it didn’t feel like the time was right. As much as I’d like to get out of my own mind, drinking wasn’t the answer to that. Watching people laugh, smile, and goof off without a care in the world made me feel angry. I don’t even remember the last time I partied like that; being around people, playing games… having fun. It didn’t become so exhausting until I began facing this stupid fucking writers’ block.

  “Hi,” I felt a tap on my shoulder, behind me was a femboy. Again?

  “Uh, hi,” I smiled back. Looks-wise, he was my type. Fashionable, soft voice, and beautiful eyes.

  “You’ve caught my attention all night,” the man said softly, his face was bright red and he could barely keep eye contact with me. “I was wondering if I could have your number.” He asked shakily, handing me his phone.

  This took a lot of courage; meeting me face-to-face to ask for my number. I only experienced that courage once, other than that I was always approached first. In the beginning I found this courageous act cute and endearing, to the point where I’d give my number out to any man that’d ask for it and suited my tastes. Yet… right now, the lack of creativity and progression for my novel during the summer… It took a bite out of my ego and confidence.

  “Sorry…” I replied softly, I couldn’t even bring myself to look him in the eye as I rejected him. Overly explaining why I’m saying no, in hopes he doesn’t take it personally.

  It’s been a really long time since I felt any type of insecurity. It can so easily hold you back from happiness.