Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 304: The First Day for Someone Else

Tuesday morning, Luca woke to his alarm feeling significantly more human than yesterday.

Noel was already up, standing at the closet in his boxers, considering shirt options with unusual focus.

"What are you doing?" Luca asked, voice still rough with sleep.

"Trying to look approachable but professional."

"For freshmen orientation?"

"They’re going to have questions. I should look like someone who has answers."

"You always look like someone who has answers."

"That’s the goal." Noel pulled out a dark button-down, held it up. "This one?"

"Perfect. Very ’I know where the library is and have opinions about research databases.’"

"Exactly the vibe I’m going for."

Luca rolled out of bed, stretched. His session didn’t start until ten—Business Studies welcome event in the main lecture hall.

Noel’s International Business orientation was at nine in the smaller conference room.

They moved through the morning routine together.

Coffee, breakfast, Noel fussing with his collar until Luca physically stopped his hands.

"You look good," Luca said. "Stop adjusting."

"I want to make a good impression."

"You’ll terrify them with competence. That’s impression enough."

"I don’t terrify people."

"You absolutely do. It’s part of your charm."

Noel kissed him quickly. "I’m leaving. Take care."

"You too."

The door closed. Luca finished his coffee alone, changed into something clean but casual—jeans, a decent shirt, nothing too formal.

Freshmen responded better to approachable than intimidating.

He arrived at campus at nine forty-five. The quad was already busy with new students everyone looking slightly lost.

Emily found him outside the Business building. "Hey, Ready?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I’ve been mentally preparing by remembering how clueless I was freshman year."

"We were all clueless."

"Some of us more than others."

George appeared with two other students from their program—Maya, who’d been in their Strategic Management class, and David, who’d somehow survived four years of group projects without losing his mind.

"The welcoming committee," George announced. "We look friendly, right?"

"Terrifying," Maya said. "But in a helpful way."

Inside, the lecture hall was filling up. Approximately fifty freshmen, all wide-eyed and nervous, some trying to look more confident than they felt.

Professor Morrison stood at the front, organizing papers. She looked up when they entered, smiled.

"Ah, my volunteers. Thank you for doing this." She gestured to the front row. "You’ll each give a brief introduction, then we’ll break into smaller groups for Q&A. Keep it honest but encouraging."

"Honest about how terrible group projects are?" George asked.

"Honest about everything. They deserve to know what they’re getting into."

The session started at ten sharp. Morrison gave her welcome speech—history of the program, what to expect, resources available. Then she introduced the seniors.

"These five students are graduating this Saturday. They’ve survived everything you’re about to experience. Learn from them."

Emily went first. "I’m Emily. I’ve been in this program for four years, somehow haven’t dropped out despite multiple breakdowns in this very building. My advice: find people you trust early, because you’ll need them. Also, never take Professor Webb’s 8 AM class unless you enjoy pain."

Scattered laughter from the freshmen.

George went next. "George. Same deal—four years, multiple crises, still standing. Pro tip: the third-floor bathroom in this building is always empty. You’re welcome."

More laughter, some people taking actual notes.

Maya spoke about internship opportunities. David talked about course selection strategy.

Then Luca’s turn.

"I’m Luca. Four years in Business Studies, concentration in Marketing." He paused, looking at the sea of nervous faces. "Here’s the thing nobody tells you freshman year—you’re supposed to be confused. Everyone in this room is confused. Some people are just better at hiding it. Don’t waste energy pretending you have everything figured out. Ask questions, admit when you don’t understand, find people who’ll help you. That’s how you actually survive."

A few freshmen nodded, looking slightly relieved.

Morrison divided them into groups. Luca got assigned ten students, led them to a corner of the lecture hall.

"Alright," he said, sitting on a desk. "Ask me anything. Academic stuff, social stuff, how to find the good coffee on campus—nothing’s off limits."

A girl in the front raised her hand tentatively. "How hard is it? Really?"

"First year? Not terrible if you stay on top of things. Second year gets harder. Third year is when you start questioning your life choices. Fourth year you’re too tired to care, you just want to finish."

"Encouraging," a guy in the back said dryly.

"You asked for honesty."

"What about the workload?" someone else asked. "Everyone says business programs are impossible."

"It’s manageable. You’ll have weeks where everything’s due at once and you want to die. But you’ll also have weeks where you barely have anything. Balance it out, don’t procrastinate on the big stuff, and you’ll be fine."

They asked about professors to avoid, which classes were actually useful, how to get internships, whether study groups were worth it.

Luca answered everything honestly. Yes, Webb was brutal but fair. Yes, internships mattered more than GPA sometimes. Yes, study groups saved his life multiple times.

"What about social stuff?" a quiet girl asked. "Like, how do you make friends when everyone seems to already know each other?"

"First week everyone’s faking it," Luca said. "Seriously. People who look confident are terrified inside. Just talk to people. Study groups, clubs, even just sitting next to someone in class and asking about the homework. You’ll find your people."

"Did you find yours freshman year?"

"Yeah. Two of them are here today actually." He nodded toward Emily and George across the room. "Met them first week, survived four years together. They’re annoying but I kept them."

"We heard that!" Emily called over.

"Good! It’s true!"

His group laughed, more relaxed now. They asked more questions—about dorm life, campus food, whether the rumors about the library’s fourth floor being haunted were real.

"Not haunted," Luca said. "Just poorly lit and creepy. Great for late-night studying if you don’t mind existential dread."

Across the room, George was demonstrating something with exaggerated hand gestures, his group cracking up.

Emily had her laptop out, showing her students something—probably her color-coded note system she’d perfected over four years.

"What’s your biggest regret?" one of Luca’s freshmen asked. "About your four years here?"

Luca thought about it. "Not relaxing more. I spent a lot of time stressed about grades, internships, future plans. That stuff matters, but I wish I’d enjoyed the process more. You’re only in college once. Don’t rush through it."

"What’s your biggest success?"

"Making it to graduation without dropping out." He smiled. "And finding people who made it worth staying. Both friends and—" He stopped himself from saying ’Noel.’ "People who mattered. That’s the real win."

The session ran until eleven thirty. Morrison called everyone back together, thanked the seniors again, dismissed the freshmen to their next orientation event.

Luca’s group lingered, a few coming up to thank him individually.

"You made this less scary," one girl said.

"That was the goal. You’ll be fine. All of you will."

Outside, he found Emily and George waiting.

"How’d yours go?" Emily asked.

"Good. They asked good questions. Yours?"

"Same. Some of them are so young."

"We were that young."

"I know. It’s horrifying."

George checked his phone. "We’ve got the afternoon session at two. Campus tour."

"I forgot about that."

"It’s on the schedule Morrison sent."

"I don’t read schedules."

"Clearly."

They grabbed lunch at the student center, watched the campus fill with more freshmen and their families.

The energy was different—nervous excitement, everyone starting something new.

"Remember our first day?" Emily said.

"Vaguely," Luca said. "I remember being completely lost."

"I cried in my dorm room that night," George admitted.

"Really?"

"I was homesick and overwhelmed. Called my mom at midnight." He shrugged. "Got over it by week two."

"Character growth," Emily said.

"Something like that."

At two, they led a campus tour for their assigned freshmen.

Showed them the important buildings, the library’s best study spots, the dining halls ranked by food quality.

"This is the art building," Luca said, gesturing. "Not relevant to business students, but the third floor has the best view of campus. Also sometimes there’s free coffee if you look lost enough."

"Is that allowed?" someone asked.

"Technically no. Realistically, art students are generous and caffeinated." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

They showed them the gym, the student center, the quad where people studied on nice days.

Pointed out shortcuts, warned about construction zones, explained the campus bus system.

"Any other questions?" Emily asked as they circled back to the Business building.

"What happens after graduation?" a freshman asked. "Like, did you all get jobs already?"

The three of them exchanged glances.

"Some of us have plans," Emily said carefully. "Some of us are figuring it out. You’ve got four years before you need to worry about that."

"Focus on not failing freshman year first," George added. "Future planning comes later."

They wrapped up the tour at three. The freshmen dispersed, looking less terrified than this morning.

"We did good," George said.

"We were helpful and honest," Emily agreed.

"Think they’ll be okay?" Luca asked.

"Eventually. Same as we were."

Luca’s phone buzzed. Noel: Done with orientation. How was yours?

He typed back: Good. Tiring but good. You?

Noel: Same. Meet at home?

Luca: 30 minutes.

He said goodbye to Emily and George, headed home.

The apartment was quiet when he arrived, but Noel appeared five minutes later looking tired but satisfied.

"How’d it go?" Luca asked.

"Really well. They asked intelligent questions, seemed genuinely interested in the program." Noel collapsed on the couch. "I forgot how exhausting talking to people is."

"You did three hours of talking."

"Exactly. I need silence now."

Luca sat beside him, pulled Noel’s head into his lap. "Silence granted."

They stayed like that, quiet and still, the afternoon fading into evening.

Tomorrow they’d do it again—more freshmen, more questions, more advice.

But for now, this was enough.

Just them, resting, preparing for another day of helping others begin what they were about to end.