So I'm at my roommate's party [not the one I was casually having sex with, the other one] in my blue v neck. I don't know anybody there so I went straight to the kitchen to "do my thing" aka take shots of vodka and chase with water. The vodka is blue, so it's like, meant to be.
Chris Colfer says he has to tell me something and pulls me into a closet [ironic]. At this point, I am standing in a dark closet with a flamboyant junior with an entire party watching from the outside and I am wearing a blue v neck. And then he leans in to kiss me. I'm not sure if I expected this and went into the closet just to confirm my suspicions and flatter myself. But I'm not interested at all; I prefer the Darren Criss type. So I turn my face away and ask, "So what do you wanna talk about..."
"I think I'm in love with you."
This is the first time I've seen Chris Colfer in two years. So either his love grew from afar or maybe he was sitting on this bomb for the past two years or maybe he was just trying to feed me lies to get me to sleep with him. Regardless, I wanted to kill myself. This was the worst closet I've ever been in, hands down. I manage to respond with a feeble, "Thanks. But I'm one of those guys that likes Mariah Carey and vagina at the same time."
So I tell him I have to go to the bathroom but go to his room instead. I close the door, open the window, and leave.
In case you're keeping track, this means all three of the guys living in my sophomore triple were/are gay.