It was my freshman year. A couple of friends and I were at a party with some upperclassmen at a duplex about two blocks east of campus. The alcohol was flowing for us that night; the women we came with knew the men who were hosting, and they wanted to show us a good time.

I don’t remember meeting him, but I knew he was the designated DJ for the night. We were sitting on a couch in the living room, just inches away from the crowd that gathered to dance. I don’t think we talked much; the music was overwhelmingly loud and the flashes of multi-colored lights were disorienting.

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