The morning sun sliced through the blinds of Max’s dorm room, painting stripes across his bare skin as he rolled out of bed with a groan that could wake the dead. “Another day of strutting my stuff for the masses,” he muttered, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. He shuffled to the window, cracking it open just enough to let the crisp autumn breeze nip at places he’d rather keep under wraps. “Great. Nothing says ‘good morning’ like a draft where the sun don’t shine.”
Dragging himself to the bathroom, Max planted his hands on the sink and stared into the mirror, his reflection looking as unimpressed as he felt. “Alright, champ,” he said, pointing at himself with a mock-serious glare. “You’ve got this. Own it. You’re not just naked—you’re a goddamn statement. Let ‘em stare. Let ‘em touch. Just don’t let ‘em get the better of you.” He flexed a bicep for emphasis, then snorted at his own absurdity. “Yeah, right. Easier said than done when every hand on campus thinks my ass is a public handshake.”
He threw on a pair of sneakers—his only concession to campus life—and headed out, the cool morning air biting at his skin as he trudged toward the lecture hall. The university grounds were already buzzing with students, and Max felt the familiar weight of eyes on him. A group of freshmen near the quad gave him casual nods, while a couple of jocks smirked, one of them reaching out to deliver a playful smack to his backside as he passed. “Nice form, bro!” the guy called out, laughing with his buddies.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Chad,” Max shot back, not breaking stride. “Unless you’re paying for the privilege, this exhibit’s look-only.” The group cackled, but Max kept his chin up, refusing to let the heat creeping up his neck show.
Inside the lecture hall, he slid into a seat at the back, hoping to blend into the shadows. No such luck. A hand from the row behind grazed his shoulder, followed by a low chuckle. “Cold in here, Max, or are you just happy to see me?” came the teasing whisper.
Max didn’t even turn around. “Keep dreaming, asshole. My goosebumps aren’t an invitation.” The guy snickered but backed off as Dr. Hargrove took the podium, launching into a mind-numbingly dry lecture on socio-economic theory. The professor’s monotone droned on, completely oblivious to Max’s bare state, as if a naked student in the back row was just another Tuesday. Which, in this weird-ass world, it kind of was.
A shadow loomed to his left as Theo, a classmate with a grin too wide for his own good, leaned over. “Yo, Max,” he whispered, his voice dripping with mischief. “Forget Hargrove’s charts. Your assets are the real lecture material today.”
Max rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the flush creeping up. “Real original, Theo. What’s next, gonna ask if I’m free for a ‘private study session’? Save it. I’ve heard ‘em all.”
Theo smirked, unfazed. “Hey, just appreciating the view. Gotta give credit where it’s due. You’re rocking the birthday suit harder than anyone else could.”
“Yeah, well, appreciate quieter,” Max hissed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Some of us are trying to pretend we’re not a walking sideshow.”
The lecture dragged on until a break was called, and Max barely had time to stretch before a pack of guys surrounded him in the hallway outside. “Yo, Max, you’re the campus exhibit today!” one of them jeered, while another dared to flick his thigh with a quick snap of his fingers. “Gotta test the merchandise, right?”
Max sighed, planting his hands on his hips and leveling them with a withering stare. “Wow, real creative, guys. What’s next, gonna draw a mustache on me with a Sharpie? Get a hobby. Or at least a better punchline.” The group laughed, but Max stood tall, refusing to shrink under their teasing.
Before the situation could escalate, a new presence cut through the crowd like a blade. Riley, a senior with a reputation for owning any room she walked into, stepped forward, her tall frame towering over the group. Her dark eyes gleamed with a sly smirk as she crossed her arms, her voice low and commanding. “Alright, boys, playtime’s over. Back off before I make you regret crowding my view.”
The guys scattered like scolded puppies, leaving Max alone with Riley, who turned her gaze on him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. She gave him a slow, appraising once-over, her smirk deepening. “You know, Max,” she purred, stepping closer, “you’re too damn distracting for your own good. How’s a girl supposed to focus on theory when you’re out here serving… well, everything?”
Max swallowed hard, caught off guard by the heat in her tone. “Uh, try closing your eyes?” he managed, though his voice came out shakier than he’d intended. “Or, you know, respecting my personal bubble?”
Riley chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a jolt through him. She brushed past him deliberately, her fingers trailing lightly along his arm as she went. “Oh, I respect it. Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the view up close.” She threw a wink over her shoulder before sauntering off, leaving Max rooted to the spot, muttering under his breath.
“Personal bubble. Need a damn force field at this point,” he grumbled, though his body betrayed him with a flicker of intrigue he couldn’t quite ignore.
Back in the lecture hall, Max struggled to focus on Dr. Hargrove’s ramblings, hyper-aware of every stare, every snicker, every whisper that seemed to ripple through the room. His skin felt like it was buzzing under the weight of unspoken curiosity, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing for once he could just disappear.
As the class finally ended, Theo clapped him on the back—harder than necessary—laughing as he stood. “Catch you at the next bare-all seminar, Max! Don’t forget to bring… well, nothing, I guess!”
Max groaned, rubbing his shoulder. “Hilarious, Theo. Keep that up, and I’ll start charging for tickets.” Theo just cackled as he walked off, leaving Max to gather his nonexistent belongings and head out to the campus grounds.
The afternoon stretched ahead, and Max braced himself for another day of being the university’s unwilling touch-magnet. As he walked, the breeze teasing his bare skin, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this bizarre world than met the eye. Or, more accurately, more than met the wandering hands. With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and kept moving, determined to survive whatever—or whoever—came next.
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