A girl, 20 years of age, treks through her college campus.

She notices a man keeping pace with her to her side. He had a mop of raven black hair atop his head, eyes blue as ice, glasses, and several pimples blistering his face. She thought he looked like a CS major who never got laid.

His mouth opened, pouring out waterfalls of undesired questions.

He asked her where she was from.

"Dubai."

"Isn't that the place with the one really tall building?"

"Yeah."

"Have you been there?"

"Yeah."

He says something about being from Wisconsin and visiting a tall building in Madison. She doesn't care — she barely hears him.

"Let me guess. You're an Accounting major, aren't you? You look like one." He's wrong.

"No, I study Economics."

He tells her he doesn't even attend the campus. He's just a random man unaffiliated with the university walking around its campus without a reason.

She enters a campus building, hoping to leave him behind, and begins her search for an empty classroom in which to study before her next class. He follows her inside.

He continues to badger her with comments. "Can I get your number?"

"No. I'm not comfortable giving my number to a stranger."

"Well, we've been talking for a bit. I'm not a stranger anymore, am I?"

"I literally just met you."

At this point, a third party suddenly steps in. A boy nearby walking down the hall asks the girl, "Hey, is he bothering you?"

"Yes," she tells him.

"You need to leave," the boy says to the man.

The man huffs, dissatisfied with the outcome of the situation, and storms out of the building.

"Are you okay?" the boy asks the girl.

"Yeah." She laughs nervously, her breathing heavier from the increase in the pace of her heartbeat. She's unsure, but she thinks she's okay now.