I’ve got another story from my sophomore year in college.

I had 3 other roommates in our apartment style dorm unit that year. We all had separate rooms but shared a common area and a kitchen.

I had two roommates from New Orleans. Ironically, they had the same names as well. I called one Bee from uptown, and the other one Bee out the East (Pete). The last roommate was a guy named Ronnie from Kansas City. We’ll call him KC for story sake.

Bee out the east went by big Pete because he was a large guy. We’ll call him Pete in this story. Pete was one of my friends from freshman year that I convinced to move into the same unit as I. Luckily I did, because I saved his life.

Let’s get on with this life story…

We were off of the freshman side of campus and we no longer dealt with that madness. We didn’t have anymore curfews. These dorms were co-ed and women behave better than men. I was woken up out of my sleep to niggas hard up arguing at 3 AM in the morning. People were still pulling the fire alarms at midnight but a lot less frequent.

The guys I roomed with were cool. We talked sports, women, classes,etc., etc. We loved playing on the Xbox and they were generally cool at that point.

Pete had the room next to me while Uptown and Kansas City stayed on the other side of the living room. Pete had been with this upperclassman since the previous year and she basically lived with us. I didn’t really care because they weren’t loud, they were always polite to me and they alternated where they stayed.

Because of that, I couldn’t tell at the moment that Pete was getting distant. I knew it was weird when me and the other two were at a football game but Pete was there with some guys that I had never seen him hangout with before.

Pretty soon, those guys started coming up to the room to hangout with Pete often. They weren’t rude but the frequency in which they came rubbed us the wrong way.

Seemed like everyday after dinner, we were opening the door for the same three guys to meet with Pete. He normally left with them shortly after. We didn’t inquire at first because it was his business.

After a while, we saw Pete less and less. I remember texting him and asking if he was okay. He assured me that he was, but he was spending more time in his girl’s room.

The guys continued to show up and we hadn’t seen Pete for literally 4 weeks. One day we noticed that they’d knocked on his door but made their way into his room. When they left, we decided to creep into his room and see if they stole something.

We saw a letter written in smeared red crayon on his desk. It read, “We’re after you.”

What in the fuck did this nigga get himself into? And are we in danger because of it? Those were our questions but we didn’t know how to approach Pete about it.

We decided to stop opening the door for his friends. We hoped that they’d stop coming but the story was about to come to a head.

One day the following week, we left the cafe and came in the unit to play football on the Xbox. I was kicking ass, but I had to pee.

I walked to the bathroom on our ( Pete and I’s) side of the unit. The shower was running so I thought he was in there. I went back to play the game and 30 mins later I walked back to the bathroom. The shower was still running.

I knocked on the door but there was no answer. I knocked on his bedroom door and there was no answer.

I opened the door and there he was. Pete was laid out in the tub with all of his clothes on. He was unconscious with the water from the shower head beating down on his face.

I ran into the front and told the other two. Uptown ran downstairs to grab an RA while Kansas City called his name in attempt to wake him up and I dialed 911.

Within minutes, the RAs and paramedics were on the scene. Kansas City had managed to wake Pete up but he couldn’t move much.

The paramedics helped him out of the tub and they brought him to the hospital. I got a lift from a friend and headed to the hospital.

When I got there, more of his new friends showed up. There was a guy there who was from Oregon. He was talking a lot of shit about Pete. He was calling him fat and cracking jokes in the waiting room with the others. In a discussion that night in the waiting room, he told me that he was a 33rd degree Mason.

Was that what this was all about? Was Pete trying to become a Mason?🤯🤯🤯

When I was allowed to see Pete, I asked him what was wrong. It was a list of things like low blood pressure, dehydration, heart beat pace low, etc. etc. etc.

He told me not to tell his woman anything and that he’d be out in the morning.

We didn’t see Pete for a while after that but he eventually got back healthy. His new friends disappeared as well.

Two years later……

That Mason from Oregon and one of the guys who kept coming up to the room became friends of mine. Through bits and pieces of stories, I found out what was going on.

They were all a part of a non greek frat on campus ( I won’t name it). Those guys who kept coming up to the room were on line with Pete. They were frustrated because he kept missing their activities and they had to constantly hunt him down.

They didn’t have a good opinion of him. One of my best friends, a member of the org, called him a p****. They would say things like, “he let his line brothers down” or “he was a big ass baby.”

I never spoke with Pete about it because I know it’s a sensitive topic. I don’t know what was really going on, but he was passed out in the bathtub. I have my theories.

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