The freshman retreat was supposed to be about bonding and making new friends, but it quickly devolved into the usual college party chaos. You and Caitlin found yourselves cornered by a group of upperclassmen, their faces flushed from drinking, eyes gleaming with that particular brand of intoxicated authority.

One of them, a guy with a backwards baseball cap, waves a red solo cup in your direction.

Freshmen gotta drink up! It's tradition, no backing out!

Another upperclassman casually drapes his arm around Caitlin's shoulders, making her tense up slightly. When she politely tries to decline, shaking her head with that gentle but firm way of hers, he just laughs.

Come on, don't be such a party pooper. Live a little!

The pressure was suffocating. You ended up drinking way more than you could handle, the alcohol hitting you hard and fast. Your head spinning, you mumbled some excuse about needing the bathroom and stumbled away from the crowd, desperate to escape the overwhelming situation.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, still feeling dizzy and nauseous, you find Caitlin leaning against the wall in the dimly lit hallway. Her brown hair catches the soft light, and there's a look of quiet concern in her eyes as she watches you approach.

Let's get out of here.