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"And the second is to find a party."
With two bags will of alcohol, we go down a street Raf says is known for having frat houses. And that is immediately evident as loud noises erupt in the air, students walking around drunk and having a good time.
Music is blasting from a few of the brownstones, and as we walk down the street, Raf stops in front one of the houses.
"Let's try this," he nods to the entrance. A few of the frat guys are outside smoking.
Holding my hand, Raf ushers me up the stairs and towards the door.
Just as I think the guys aren't going to let us go in, they open the door for us, inviting us in.
The moment we're inside, the music is blasting in the speakers, people walking all over the place with red solo cups in their hands.
"We’re in," I blink, the reality of the moment finally hitting me.
"Told you," Raf smiles at me, tucking me closer as we go deeper into the house where the bar is. He places the bottles on the counter, and the guy serving the drinks gives him a surprised look.
"Hell, man, you went all out," he chuckles, shaking hands with Raf. "I haven't seen you around here before."
"Took some time off school," Raf lies. "But now I'm back."
And just like that, he's back to his charming self, engaging in a short conversation and having the other guy eating from the palm of his hand—believing every single lie he's spouting.
I watch the interaction, a little in awe of him, but also curious about how his time in college could have been so bad considering he's so freaking good at striking up conversation even with someone he doesn't know.
"I'll see you around," he eventually nods at the guy—Tobias. He even got his name. Taking two glasses, he asks Tobias to give us some jungle juice.
"And now for the start of the experience," he turns to me, handing me a glass and urging me to try it.
"This isn't bad. Not at all," I exclaim, surprised.
It's sweet and you can barely detect the alcohol.
"And that's the issue. If you're not careful itwillgo to your head."
"You're too good at this," I praise his excellent social persona as he leads me to a couch.
Already we'd been made aware the dance floor is downstairs, in the basement, while the upstairs levels are off limits to strangers.
"Now. You should have seen me when I was in college. I was so bad," he cringes, bringing one hand to his face.
"How could you have been so bad?"
"I had no confidence in myself," he grimaces. "You know most of my embarrassing stories from my time here, but the truth is that I could have made friends. I could have put myself out there, but I didn't. I was dealing with a lot of mental health issues for which, retrospectively, I should have sought help."
"Raf…" I place my head on his shoulder. "To know what you went through and where you are now… It makes me so proud of you. You have no idea," I smile at the memories of our conversations. "You makemewant to be better—do better."
He's nothing short of a magnificent example—someone I've always respected and admired.
It's true that during his time in college he was dealing with a lot. I, better than anyone, know of his struggles and the fact that he'd had many identity crises, one after another. He'd been so self-conscious of himself and the image he portrayed to the outside world because, simply put, it didn't fit the image in his own mind.
Yet the man he is now? The man before me?
He learned to love and understand himself. He finallyfoundhimself. And that alone gives me immeasurable joy.
I've always loved him, regardless of his looks or the past, but to know he loves himself, too, makes everything so much sweeter, so much potent.
He finally knows his worth. Something I've known all along.
