I had a degenerate fraternity brother whom we’ll call “Dan.”
It's his real name, I just felt like using quotation marks. Ordinary, decent-looking Indiana kid. Finance major. Owned seven shirts on purpose, otherwise he would never remember to do laundry. Had a haircut that could not have taken longer than four minutes to complete.
Dan was quite confident of who he was, even as a teenager away from home for the first time. Cigarettes always found their way into his mouth at 3pm, 3am and every hour in-between. He was a couple of years older than me, so he had a head-start in the worldly wisdom department.