"Have you seen the dorms yet?" Bill's mother said through the video call on his laptop. "I heard they finally opened this week."

"Just moved in last night, actually." Bill responded with a grin, leaning back in his chair a little. "It's bigger than I expected. Want a full tour?"

"Maybe later. I don't have much time this morning and I'm sure you've got things to do."

"What things? School doesn't start for another week."

"You know what I mean, Billy."

Bill's mind went back to all the conversations he'd had with his mother towards the end of his senior year, telling him of all the friends he'd make and all the things he'd see and do.

"Are you sure you want to go to this college?" His mother asked for about the fourtieth time. "You know, the U of M said they were more than happy to keep a spot open for you in case you changed your mind. And you'd...be closer to home, if anything ever happened."

"I'm sure, mom. The lifestyle of the big city just doesn't suit me. And besides, after everything that happened senior year I just need something calm, and simple. Just...trust me."

"I do. I'm so proud of you, and I know you're going to do great. I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'll let you go, now. Keep me updated?"

"Definitely." Bill grinned, fingergunning at the screen before ending the call.

Bill stretched in his chair and swiveled around, taking in his surroundings for the second time that morning. He was inside a square, light taupe-colored room which held two beds, a bookshelf, a closet, a dresser, a table, some chairs, and a desk, upon which lay his laptop. It was decently sized, and Bill felt like he might actually be able to relax in here. On the other side of the room lay his suitcase and a few boxes. Having only just been moved in since the previous day, he hadn't been able to do much so far, but he had managed to unpack his clothes and make his bed up.

The other bed was currently taken up by a sleeping figure with white hair, whether dyed or albino Bill couldn't tell. At least, Bill thought he was asleep until he said, "Who the hell is awake at 7am and happy about it?" All the while glaring at him with icy blue eyes. His accent was something southern and he looked no more than 15 years old.

"Normally, not me, but I'm feeling pretty good today!" Bill laughed, "Plus, ya gotta put on a good face for your mother, you know?"

"No, I don't." The figure's eyes narrowed. "Now would you mind bein' quiet? Classes don't start for another week and I'm tryin'a get in as much shut-eye as I can. If you would be so kind."

The boy rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head, grumbling.

"Yeesh, alright. Geez, I'll get out of your way." Bill rolled his eyes. He walked over to his bed, grabbed a bag with a single strap attached to it, slung it over his shoulder, and left the room. Bill exited the dorm building, officially known as "Dormus Triangulum" - the third dorm building - and stepped onto the pathway that led from the dorms to the main campus grounds. At this time in the morning, Bill could only see about twenty or so other students walking around. Millenium College wasn't a particularly large school, which Bill was grateful for. A mist hung in the air, giving Bill a refreshing feeling. The year was on the verge of the Fall season, and the weather lay perfectly between warm and comfortably cool. Although as it was still technically summer, Bill was sure that it was only bound to get warmer later in the day.

As Bill walked along the path, he surveyed his surroundings for the first time. To the west and the north lay the seven interconnected buildings that made up the college. On the north side of campus, not too far from the buildings, were a triad of trees overlooking the grounds. Beyond the campus property, Bill could see a dense pine forest that stretched out in every direction, or so it seemed. And on the other end of the campus lay the parking lot, which extended to the other side of the dorm buildings. He was only just able to see it past the dorms and college buildings. Bill knew that there was a town not too far from the college as well, but he hadn't had a chance to properly visit it yet.

Bill stopped walking, stretched his hands out in front of him and posed his fingers in a square shape, aiming them at the campus buildings and peering through them with one eye open.

"Too close." he frowned. "But maybe…" he aimed his finger-square toward the north, where the three trees stood, and looked through it for a few moments, then nodded. "This will do."

Bill stepped off of the path and walked a little closer to the campus building before sitting on the grass, still damp with the morning dew. He reached into his bag and pulled out a sketchbook, a few pencils, and a large eraser. Bill opened the sketchbook and flipped through the pages. Images of various things from fruit to animals to people to some outright original creations stared out at him. Seeing them gave him a sense of pride; it was a show of all his hard work. It had only been a passing hobby for him, but he did enjoy what he had managed to create.

Finally, he reached a blank page. He gazed out at the myriad of trees and the forest beyond, taking in their shapes and their energy. Then, as he had so many times before at the start of a new project, Bill closed his eyes, breathed in slowly, then exhaled. As he opened his eyes the vivid colors of his surroundings bled into focus, and he smiled.

"Perfect." He said as he brought his pencil to paper, and began to draw. Bill barely felt the time pass as he sketched out each detail onto the paper. With the scratching of the pencil and watching as the lines connected and interlaced with each other a sense of peace came over him. He smiled, knowing that even if it was bad, he was still creating something – still leaving an impression. It would be something to show for himself, a legacy, even. Of course, he was getting too far ahead of himself. But it felt nice to imagine.

Bill was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't notice anyone come up to him until he heard a voice chuckle, "Wow. That's terrible."

Bill turned around as far as his torso would let him, until he came face to face with a girl with blonde hair wearing black eyeliner, a black lace choker, a black dress and a pair of platform shoes. Very alternative. Bill raised an eyebrow at her, "What, haven't you ever heard not to judge an artist while they're still in progress?"

"That would depend on the subject of the art, I think. But sure. For a sketch it isn't...the worst." The girl admitted.

"Hey, that's exactly what I hope to be! Not terrible!" Bill grinned.

The girl laughed at that. "Smart aleck."

"I aim to please."

"I should probably introduce myself. I'm Pacifica. Pacifica...Northwest." The girl seemed to hold her breath, as if waiting for a reaction of some sort. But whatever it was she was looking for, Bill didn't know.

"Cipher. Bill Cipher."

Pacifica stared at Bill for a moment. "Cipher? Cryptic as hell."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Bill laughed. "But hey! You learn to live with it."

"I suppose you would. You get used to a name, I guess. Anyway, Bill...is there any chance you'd be interested in a party?"

"A party?" Bill frowned. Memories in his mind resurfaced of rooms full of a ton of people, synth music blasting, and drinks that might or might not be spiked. He hated those memories. "Not my thing, sorry."

"It's not a big party or anything." Pacifica tried to coax him. "It's just a small gathering at my dorm. Maybe ten people max? Just a few friends and fellow newbies. Perfect for introverts and people who find major parties...unappealing. Get to know a few people? Plus, you could meet my girlfriend. I get the feeling you two would hit it off really well."

Bill thought about it for a moment. "Well, long as nothing too crazy happens and I don't feel like I'm metaphorically being strangled alive, then sure. I'll drop by."

"Perfect. Come by room 108 in the first dorm building. Party starts at eight tonight."

"Sounds good."

As Pacifica walked away, Bill took his phone out of his bag and checked the time. The screen read 9:07 a.m. He'd been working on his drawing for the last hour and a half. He looked down at the page he'd been sketching on. It was coming along but the sketch still looked rather rough and he'd only gotten about a third of the forest done – the woods sloped upwards on a collection of hills and it would take time to fully capture it. But looking back at the drawing now, Bill couldn't help admitting that Pacifica was right – it could hardly be considered professional. Still, he reasoned, that's one of the reasons he was at this college. To learn.

Bill worked on his drawing for another hour before deciding to call it a day and closing his sketchbook, promising himself to continue another day. It was then that Bill's stomach started up like it was in a band and Bill remembered he'd sort of skipped out on breakfast that morning. Vowing to remedy that, Bill made his way to the cafeteria, which he found after getting turned around a few times. It wasn't normally open outside of the school year, but now with students moving into the dorms and in preparation for the new school year, the cafeteria was up and running. Bill paid for two large sandwiches, one for now and one for later, and some juice and ate quietly while scrolling through instagram. He'd gotten a fair amount of likes and comments on his latest post, a photo of him laughing outside in a thunderstorm with his hair soaked, with the caption: If I was rain I'd enjoy soaking your socks! Have fun sleeping tonight! He spent some time liking and replying to his favorite comments, which helped to pass the time.

Suddenly, a chill went through Bill's spine and he got the vague feeling that he was being watched. He turned around in his seat and looked around. The only other people in the cafeteria were a girl with brown hair and a guy with dark hair. The girl seemed to be focused on what the guy was saying, and the guy was faced away from Bill, so Bill couldn't see his face. Neither of them appeared to be watching him, but Bill couldn't shake the bad feeling he was getting. He finished his sandwich quickly and decided to get the hell out of there.

Bill spent the next couple of hours familiarizing himself with the campus buildings, so that he'd actually have some idea of where he was going during the year. Not that it mattered much, seeing as how he would mainly be going between the Arts and Language buildings for the semester. But of course that didn't mean he couldn't be prepared for semesters in the future.Posters lined the halls advertising clubs, student resources, and local job openings. Bill looked them over momentarily, deciding to keep the information stored in his mind for later.

After feeling like he had at least a better understanding of the campus layout, Bill returned to his dorm room. By that time it was about 1 in the afternoon. Bill's grumpy roommate had disappeared somewhere, which meant that Bill had the room to himself. Bill sat on his bed and logged into his school account, and found an email reminding him to pick up his textbooks, which he made a note of. There were also some updates on the school website telling students about campus safety. Bill chuckled when he read that, considering the odd feeling he'd gotten earlier in the cafeteria. Bill saved the page and logged into Netflix, deciding to get caught up on a show he'd started earlier that summer. It had a nice mix of sci-fi and suspense, the way Bill liked it.

Around 5 in the afternoon, Bill's roommate walked back in the room. His hair was wet, so Bill assumed he'd just gotten a shower. Bill paused what he was watching and cleared his throat.

"So uh, how's the water?"

His roommate stared at him in confusion."How's the what-now?"

"The...your hair's wet there, sport." Bill pointed towards his roomate's wet hair. "Or did you forget about your own assets?"

"Assets?" The roomate chuckled, running his fingers through his albino hair. "Why, thank you! It's about time someone noticed. Well, you see, it's a long story. I won't bother you with the details, don't you worry about all that now. Well now that we're getting' properly acquainted why don't we introduce one another? I'll go first. Folks 'round here know me as Lil' Gideon – but you can just call me Gideon. Full name's Gideon Gleeful."

Gideon extended a hand and a grin towards Bill in greeting. Bill stared at the hand for a moment, wondering if he should take it, then shrugged and met Gideon's hand with his own.

"Gleeful, huh? Nice to meet'cha. Name's Bill. Bill Cipher."

Gideon's grin remained but his eyes narrowed, staring daggers at Bill. "Just Gideon, thank you."

"Good to know."

"So listen, Billford-"

"Bill." Bill noticed the microagression – payback?

"Bill, of course!" Gideon exclaimed exaggeratedly. Bill wasn't sure which he disliked more – the clear sarcasm, or the fake laughter that followed. "I was just thinkin' that maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier, and I don't want to cause a rift between the two of us before we've even started the year, so I'd like to extend to you my deepest apologies. If you'll forgive me, of course."

"Uh...sure." Bill said with a raised eyebrow, not knowing what to make of Gideon.

"Oh, wonderful! Just a lil' ol' heads up for the future: I tend to be more foul-headed in the mornin'. Don't take it personally, I can never seem to enjoy the mornings much to save my knee! Sorry again for this mornin'."

"Consider it water under the bridge." Bill said, resting his hand in his palm. "So tell me something, Gideon. You seem awfully young to be in college. You can't be older than what, fifteen?"

"I'll actually be sixteen tomorrow. And to answer your question, I've worked hard as I could to get to this point, make no mistake. So don't you go underestimatin' me, understand?

"Oh yes, uptight one." Bill rolled his eyes.

Gideon chuckled; it was the type of chuckle that uttered, "don't test me" under its breath. "I'm gonna ignore that lil' quip o' yours. Anyway, you got anything on the agenda tonight? I've got a game of charades that I think you're just going to love."

"As a matter of fact, there's some kinda party I've been invited to."

Gideon's eyes lit up. "Ooh a party! How nice. Who's the host?"

"Oh, it was some sorta goth girl. Said her name was Pacifica...Northwest?"

"Pacifica...Northwest, you say?" The change in Gideon's demeanor was immediate. His eyes shifted from side to side, his eyes furrowed, his hands balled themselves into fists, and his face turned red – though this was a red of frustration, rather than embarrassment. His next words were almost icy.

"How nice."

Bill blinked, trying to figure him out. Gideon seemed hot one minute, and cold the next.

"You alright, kid?"

"Peachy." Gideon smiled, still clenching his fists. "If you'll excuse me."

Gideon turned around and marched back out of the room, fists at his sides. What was it about Pacifica that had made him react like that? And then again, there was the way that Pacifica had looked at Bill before as she introduced herself, almost as if anticipating a volatile reaction from him. Exactly what sort of reputation did this girl have?

'Guess I'll find out one way or another.' Bill shrugged.

He resumed his show and continued watching, eating his remaining sandwich when his eyes weren't glued to the screen. At around 7:30 pm, he began to get ready. He put on a comfortable cream shirt with a brown plaid pattern and a pocket, some brown pants to match, and some brown shoes with white laces. Inspecting himself in the mirror, his own blond hair and ocean blue eyes stared out back at him as he checked out his outfit. It was casual, but Bill thought he looked quite nice. He grabbed his bag and was just leaving the room when he ran into Gideon once again.

"Oh, leavin' already?" Gideon inquired, all former traces of frustration gone. Bill felt a little suspicious of that for some reason, but he brushed the feeling aside, not wanting to think the worst of someone he'd known for less than twenty-four hours.

"Yep. Time flies, as they say!"

"It does indeed. Gideon nodded. "You take care, now."

"I'll do that."

"Oh, and Bill?"

"Hmm?"

"Watch out for Pacifica. She can be...trouble, if you're not careful."

Before Bill could ask what Gideon meant, Gideon disappeared into the room and closed the door behind him. Bill stood there for a moment, perplexed by him yet again. Pacifica, when he had met her, seemed decent enough. Sure she had poked a little fun at his drawing, but Bill had figured that was all in good humor.

So what exactly did Gideon know that he didn't?