That café experience was practice, though, for when Ray actually saw Sora in class that day. It was easier for him to ignore Sora after the café incident, and he succeeded in keeping his eyes to himself until class ended and he was lulled into Leo's affectionate attention as the guy said, "I'd love to see your apartment."

    Huey pitched in instantly. "Yeah, it must be nice having a whole-ass apartment."

    Ray smiled, sheepishly, and couldn't quite say anything on the matter without fearing he'd let Sora's name slip. Instead, he did something far worse.

    "So do you have a roommate?" Leo asked.

    Ray's immediate response, knowing that Sora would shit a brick if he gave away the roommate situation, went as follows: "No. I just... have a one bedroom apartment."

    Leo threw his arms up with a triumphant laugh. "That's perfect! We could hang out at your place!"

    Shit.

    "As much as I'd love to show you guys my apartment... it's just... a real mess right now," Ray said, the guilt seeping into every word that escaped his mouth. And here he thought he'd have the Socializing Hot Spot of all of the dorms and apartments alike.

    That was no longer the case, so long as he wanted to stay on Sora's Good Side (not that the guy had many good sides—aside from looks, that is).

    Leo slumped with a groan and muttered, "Fine, I guess that makes sense."

    "Well, if you guys ever wanna stop by my dorm, I'm in the athlete hall," Huey said, shouldering his backpack as the three of them lingered in the lecture hall.

    Ray tipped his head to the side, scratching at his hair. "Athlete hall?"

    "Oh, yeah! Hatsu Hall—student athletes get priority in that dorm," Leo explained. He clapped his hands together, smiling wide. "Best facility on campus! They've got huge rooms and heat in the winter."

    Huey put his thumbs up and Ray squinted at them both. "So... not all of the dorms get heat in the winter?"

    "Oh, we do—it's just... drafty," Leo explained. He pointed to Huey and added, "His dorm's pretty rad. Single dorm for a single man."

    "And ready to mingle, as the kids say," Huey said with a shimmy of his shoulders. Leo gave him a smack on the arm and as the two of them bickered, Ray caught sight of Sora passing their group on his way out of the lecture hall.

    Ray stared after him. Sora was wearing a scarf that day, and the plaid, tasseled ends ruffled behind him as one of the guys in their class held the door for him. Sora didn't acknowledge the guy, but the guy surely acknowledged him—after the fact, when one of his friends leant in to whisper something about Sora when he was gone.

    "Sora's pretty popular, huh?" Ray commented. He glanced back at Huey and Leo, who ceased their banter the instant Sora's name was mentioned.

    Leo put both hands out, gasping. "Did I miss it? Oh, fuck, I missed it."

    Ray's heart stopped. "Missed what?"

    Huey thumped him on the chest and said, "Sora's ass, bro. We keep our eyes and ears peeled for that shit."

    Ray's heart dropped. Right, duh, of course it wasn't anything important. He threw his head back and groaned in annoyance as Leo crumpled in defeat. "My streak—!" Leo cried, dramatic and falling to his knees. He dropped his fists onto the back of the seat ahead of them, eyes down until the exact moment he threw his head back and sobbed, "Why—?!"

    "It—! It's not that important, is it?!" Ray cried, but something in his brain—he knew exactly what part of his brain—told him that it was important.

    "A travesty," Huey said with a firm nod, eyes closed, solemn.

    "It isn't!" Ray exclaimed, and Leo emphasized his disappointment by banging his fist against the seat again, head down against his forearm. He groaned and stepped over Leo's legs as he headed for the stairs. "Well, on that note... I'm heading home. New guitar and all that, so..."

    Leo put a hand to his heart, leaning back once more to reach out to Ray and say, "Tell her I love her."

    "My... guitar?" Ray said, raising an eyebrow. Leo nodded, brushing away fake, nonexistent tears. "My guitar's a guy, dude. His name's Melvin."

    Huey blinked, startled, and leaned in for clarity. "You... named a guitar Melvin?"

    Ray folded his arms, pouting. Melvin held a lot of memories for him—specifically, every memory that shattered on the pavement at the community college. "Okay, well, Melvin 2.0," he clarified.

    "Aw, that's cute," Leo said.

    "Is that sarcasm? I can't tell," Ray pouted, shoulders bunched up.

    Huey gave Ray a firm clap on the shoulder and followed up with a reassuring shake. "Well, give Melvin 2.0 my best. I'll see ya later, dude."

    And then, the most glorious thing happened. Huey put out a hand to Ray, and Ray had seen it everyone other than extended to him. He stared at Huey's hand for a moment, completely in shock. A bro shake, he thought, hands shaking with excitement.

    He pulled a hand out from where he had them folded tightly to his chest. He clasped on to Huey's firm grip, their thumbs hooked together. If it was possible for Ray to feel lightheaded from how happy he was, then he certainly experienced it when their shoulders touched and the bro-hug released.

    Ray continued to stare at his hand as he left the classroom. He stared at it all the way out of the building, down the street, and to the parking ramp where his car was. He clenched his fingers into a fist and, leaping into the parking ramp, thrust it to the air.

    "FUCK YEAH!" he screamed, kicking his feet out like a leprechaun. He laughed, twirling, and spinning off of the curb and across the asphalt. At the trunk of his car, he braced both feet on the ground and threw both fists down in front of him, all but foaming at the mouth with unadulterated joy.

    "I'm a bro now," he seethed.

    Just as he rose both fists up, eyes heading to the sky, he stopped, stilled, half-crouched like a gremlin in the middle of that godforsaken parking lot where he caught sight of a familiar, black-haired guy staring at him from the far end of the aisle.

    Ray froze.

    Sora stared, for a moment, before shaking his head and turning away to pretend he hadn't seen a thing.

    Sora scratched his finger to his temple, scoffing a little under his breath. He was far enough away that Ray could only hear his boots receding as he wandered up the ramp to the top floor. He circled around the second story ramp and, at the third, saw the sky stretched over the ramp exit. He made this trek too many times for his thighs to ache anymore from the walk—but then again, he could possibly blame that on his training at The Phantom.

    Sora walked to the back of the parking structure where, against the cement hedge circumnavigating the structure, he found Charlie leaning against it. He slowed upon approaching the car, watching Charlie from over the hood. As Charlie took a slow drag of his cigarette, Sora crossed his arms and glanced back at the ramp to ensure no one was watching them. Few students flocked to the third floor of this parking structure, and if they did, it was because they commuted and were bound to stay on campus until the wee hours of the night.

    Charlie put his head back, a hand on his black sunhat that made him look more and more like a vampire, what with that black pea coat and sunglasses. He blew smoke into the air, dramatically, and Sora sighed.

    "You done?" Sora said.

    Charlie put a finger up. Sora rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently. Sirens were going off on the other side of their neighborhood and Sora could hear it on the wind as it whistled through, smelling damp with seawater.

    "I swear you didn't smoke before you moved in with that rat bastard," Sora said.

    Charlie pinched the frame of his sunglasses and looked squarely at Sora. "Does it make me look badass though."

    "It would if you didn't look like a fashion designer from New York with those stupid leather gloves," Sora said.

    Charlie frowned, inspecting his gloves as Sora rolled his eyes and stepped over. He plucked the cigarette out of Charlie's hands. He held it up, where Charlie could see it and Sora's raised eyebrows in the same frame, before stamping it out on the cement ledge. He snapped his fingers in the direction of the car and said, "Let's fucking go, dude."

    Charlie rose both hands in surrender, looking like Sora was being oh-so difficult. Sora rolled his eyes and wandered back to the passenger door. It was one thing to have to deal with cigarette smoke at The Phantom, but having to smell it in Charlie's car every damn day was another story.

    Unbeknownst to him, however, shortly after Sora turned away from Ray's victory dance, Ray was passed up by a group of people he vaguely recognized from their lecture hall corridors. He certainly didn't recognize them from class, but it was hard to forget certain faces in the music theory hallways.

    Students at their university were more inclined to "express themselves", as Boomers would say, which made it difficult for Ray to ignore the vibrant hair, the colorfully-printed clothes, or the Yeezy's that were paid for by wealthy parents.

    And, so, as Ray recovered his aching heart from the floor of that cement parking structure, his eyes followed the group of students whispering under their breaths and sneaking up along the ramp. When they caught Ray staring, some girls yelped and scattered as the others hissed, "Keep it together!"

    "No—we shouldn't!"

    "It'll just be for a second! If he catches us we can just pretend to be getting in a car and leaving," one of them said, and Ray rose his eyebrow at them as he pried open the driver's door to his car.

    And, so, the small quarter of the group that decided to trudge onwards, continued up the ramp following Sora's tracks like a bunch of bloodhounds. Ray ignored them and went about his day because Sora wouldn't want him interfering, right? So yes, he'd ignore them, and pretend he saw nothing.

    Those three students snuck up the ramp and, upon catching a glimpse of Sora's black hair beside an equally black car, the student at the front of the group skidded to a halt. She was compact, spunky, and, due to her affinity for black clothes and black snapbacks, made for an excellent spy—and her name was Alice.

    Alice's eyes widened at the sight of the back of Sora's head. "Shit," she hissed, turning to her friends. She waved them all back, and the three of them skidded, frantic to get out of the way. The three of them ducked behind a nearby car where they disappeared from view until the exact moment Alice popped her head up from behind the trunk, and her other two friends appeared, eyes wide, over the hood of the random vehicle.

    From this vantage point, they watched, stunned and amazed, at the sight of Sora speaking with a human being.

    It was the discovery of the century—or rather, the semester, because as far as anyone knew, Sora Ikeda didn't associate with mere mortals.

    Alice looked across the car to her friends, who looked back, shocked. She mouthed to them, "Who is that?" in reference to the person with Sora wearing the black hat and long blonde hair. From this far away, they simply looked like an androgynous goddess.

    Her friends shrugged, so Alice pulled up the camera on her phone and whispered, "Well, if I don't know, maybe someone else will." When she held her phone up and zoomed in, she just managed to capture the shot of Sora plucking the cigarette from the person's lips.