It wasn't uncommon for a select few people at school to shout slurs at Casey, being as flamboyant as he was AND a nerd on top of that. The past year of freedom has been a breath of fresh air, Casey finally getting treated like an adult rather than a toilet scrub for testosterone fueled giants who thought it would be funny to dump his lunch on the floor for the THIRD day in a row. It was nice to have free time where he could actually pursue something he was enjoyed with.

Being an adult came with it's own fair share of anxieties too, mostly being college. Being the intellectual genius brain he is, there was a certain expectation level held for him by his family which didn't help the already stressful experience of applying for colleges themselves. It wouldn't be very hard for Casey to get into some expansive ivy league university, but that's where his second set of problems ran into him...

Warm, late afternoon light floods the gentle colors of Casey's bedroom. A cozy place. A safe space. Most of his summer had been spent hanging out together, which neither could really complain about. Today was a particularly slow day, the two of them simply enjoying the silence of Casey's room while his parents were out for a few days, the house quite literally just for themselves. As a hand idly reaches for the thick yearbook stashed away in Casey's shelf stuffed full of books like "BC Calculus For Experts" and "Rocket Science: It IS Rocket Science", he groans.

"Yearbook... You know how I feel about that thing."

He scoffs, silencing a smug smirk by tilting his head away as if he were disgusted. Casey never really was a fan of "sentimental mush" as he likes to call it. So, the real question is why he bought a yearbook if he hates those things so much? He refuses to give a real answer. "At least senior year's theme was good. Makes for a pretty paperweight!"