Rage, Legend Of The Trojan War

RAGE: ‘Legend of the Trojan War’ Written by Leaves Michael Hall

7813 Saranac Ct. Orlando, FL 32835

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

-To All My BrothersFor your help, support, guidance, and most importantly, your acceptance. If it weren’t for ya’ll, I might possibly still be a prisoner on ‘Virgin Island.’ Dikaia

“It's those random nights, when you sit around an empty bar with 10 of your closest friends, telling stupid jokes, crazy stories, singing old songs and dancing to new ones, that you realize why you joined a fraternity. Because for the rest of our lives, no matter what girls come and go, what jobs we do get or don't, we will always have those times when all that mattered was what was right in front of us....a full drink and our best friends.” ~Byron Sean Gilbert Delta Upsilon, Central Florida ‘08

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

Prologue A.K.Pi.K.H Why join a fraternity? A.K.Pi.K.H That’s all you need to know. A.K.Pi.K.H For the entire second half of my freshman year in college, I had those five letters drilled in my head morning, day and night. A.K.Pi.K.H Wake up. A.K.Pi.K.H Live A.K.Pi.K.H Rage. A.K.Pi.K.H. Repeat. Maybe it was the mystery of the society that appealed to me. How the smallest of phrases could unite so many people toward a common goal. It was as if by joining such a secret society, you were adopting and accepting a new way of life. A.K.Pi.K.H They say your pledge semester is the best semester of your life. And at times, I realize the propositional truth in that statement. A.K.Pi.K.H Then again, no one had a more unpredictable and life altering semester than I did. During my pledge program, no matter how drunk I was, Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

or how hard things seemed to get...no matter how many classes I skipped or tests I failed...good times or close calls...a voice in my head, along with many others being shouted as well, kept repeating one simple, five letter phrase: A.K.Pi.K.H. And I knew everything would work out. Let the cards fall where they may. A.K.Pi.K.H And for the longest time, I didn't even know what those letters meant. Alpha-Kappa-Pi-Kappa-Eta. The letters were an enigma for the most coveted of mysteries. I had to know the answer.

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

1. Innocence “Follow your dreams…as long as they lead you to college.” I was the first in my family to go to college. All throughout high school, when I wasn't at extra curricular activity meetings, volunteering at the church and library, or in class, I spent my time studying. Not by choice, but by my parent’s uncontrollable drive to make positive that I was the first in my family to get to college. I was well known in my high school for my involvement in a very wide spectrum of activities, ranging from the Varsity Wrestling team to the Optimist Club, from Spanish Honor Society to the NJROTC. I even had a brief stunt senior year as a Male Cheerleader. But that’s a different story. Regardless of my extra curricular involvement and the social settings they frequently placed me in; my closest friends remained my textbooks. My grade point average, while better than most of my peers, was never good enough for my personal standards. I would have enough fun come college. I had a coveted reputation among my peers; even if I was absent at all the memorable parties.

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My eleven o’clock post-meridiem curfew that was in effect until graduation, even on weekends, was my secret weapon academically and my social Achilles heel simultaneously. It would all pay off in college, I told myself. At the beginning of senior year, I had already been accepted to a prestigious Ivy League school thanks to my perseverance and hard work, but it was never my first choice. After burning out on constantly studying and curfews from the same dictatorship ideals my parents came to America to escape, I was ready to kick back in College and finally blend in and just get by. I was ready to leave and never come back. I would be going into my freshman year of college a sophomore credit wise, but I was in no rush of graduating anytime soon. Regardless, I never imagined myself in a fraternity; I wasn't a "party animal." Partying in high school consisted of stealing three of Dad's beers or sipping Mother's wine. On a good night, maybe even a quarter bottle of the Kahlua that hid itself in the liquor cabinet. To be honest, I had never even been drunk. But there were better things, like piano and French lessons. Things none of my peers seemed to have a similar interest in. . Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

I also didn't come from money. And Fraternities cost a lot of such a thing. Even if I was rich, I didn't feel so inclined to pay for my friends. The sole reason I could even afford the out of state tuition and room and board at renowned University of East Florida, 800 miles from my parents and their rules, was a full scholarship. All that was required of me was a 3.0 grade point average, and my academic college experience would practically be on auto-pilot. And while I was well-known throughout my high school career, I certainly was not Mr. Popular. My next door neighbor might have been Prom and Homecoming King, three sport varsity athletic Captain Jack Vincent that could sleep with any girl he wanted, but I remained a Virgin. This once again, was not by choice. I guess I never had the time in high school to find a suitable girlfriend. The creams of the crop were all cheerleaders, and after Jack finally convinced me to try out for the squad with him, I was banished to the "friends zone" by the most pulchritudinous of young women at VBHS. And besides, I was a late bloomer, and never really appealed to girls due to my shyness and unavailability for a "normal" social agenda. So, going to college was a big first step in my life, and I was ready for adventure. But when my freshman roommate asked me to go to Rush (the Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

formal Fraternity recruitment process) with him the first night of the second semester of my freshman year, I passed to study. Not that I needed to, but old habits die hard. After hearing his stories at the end of the night, of traveling house to house and answering interview style questions, I was skeptic of the formal recruitment process. It sounded like a "bro-mantic" blind date to me. Dean, my roommate, had received three "bids" or invitations to join a certain fraternity, that night: Beta Rho Omicron, who had the highest GPA on campus, but were too "nerdy" for Dean's tastes (and the tastes of the general sorority population for that matter), Alpha Epsilon Pi, the Jewish fraternity, and Tau Kappa Sigma, a newer fraternity that “bidded” anyone who came to their tent. They didn't even have a house. “I didn't have time for Kappa Epsilon Gamma tonight, but I heard they're cool. We should check them out tomorrow,” Dean muttered over his dinner of chicken flavored ramen noodles. “We?” "Yeah dude, don't be a tampon you pussy, come check it out” Dean teased. "That doesn't even make sense." Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

"You know what I mean. Last semester sucked. The biggest party we went to had six people… I played with my cold macaroni and cheese as Dean began one of his typical diatribes. “The college bar scene is practically fraternity segregated….they won't even serve you if you don't wear letters." He was right. Last semester, my first semester in college, was basically a major blue balls contradiction to how I envisioned College. The lack of a need to study made it hard to forget that I was eighteen years old and a student at THE biggest party school in Florida, and still remained completely sex-less. Masturbation had lost its glamour years ago. It was as if I was missing some vital chromosome or something. The weirdest part wasn't that I couldn't convince a female to let me penetrate her, but by my actual lack of desire or a feeling that I was missing something great. I came from a place where the only people having sex where in long term, serious relationships, and no matter how glamorous a vagina appeared to be, no matter how fulfilling I heard smashing box was; there was nothing more preposterous than having to go home with the same vagina every night. Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

Or being plagued with a vagina that could bleed, but not die; attached to an owner that would never, ever go away once she let you in on her holiest of secrets. It just didn't make sense to me. "Maybe," I replied. "Come on, Sal. Before you know it, freshman year will be over… and then College,” Dean replied with his ever persistent whiny voice, much like a six year old in the candy aisle of the grocery. “Is this the type of legacy you want to tell your kids about? “This isn't college. This is bullshit. And you're just as bored as I am, and you know it." That night as I struggled to find sleep, Dean's last words rang in my head. This isn't college. This is bullshit. And you're just as bored as I am, and you know it. I was bored. Not just with school and my social life, or lack thereof, but with life altogether. Classes were so easy I could have been blind and half retarded and I could have still aced that rubbish. My grade point average was perfect, and I didn't open a book once. Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

I had no motivation, and I was still the perfect, model student. I was a robot programmed for a mediocre routine that I did not understand the purpose of. Nothing made me special or unique. Outside of the classroom, I didn't stand out from my peers. I was just an average Joe. Compared to the Greek crowd, at least the ones I had seen trotting across the lawn in their colored jerseys filled with different letters and symbols, walking with the pride and hubris of someone wearing a military uniform or how a professional athlete might wear their uniform on the field, I mine as well have been a boy scout. Even in class, unless someone was trying to copy my work, no sorority girl, or any girl for that matter, paid me the least bit of attention. I wasn't going to be the same dull, predictable person I was in high school. I wanted to leave a legacy. I wanted people to remember me. I imagined a life where my reputation preceded me. A life where I was well known and where people wanted to know me before they knew me. Where the most coveted of females acknowledged my standing in the social seesaw, and desired my approval. Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

A dream world where I wasn’t still a virgin perhaps. And while I had never heard of a college virgin, I especially had never heard of a fraternity virgin. Be careful what you wish for.

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

2. Hanna-Barbera “Alright dude, fuck the tents, let’s just go for the three remaining houses” Dean moaned. So far tonight’s events included following Dean awkwardly as we managed across Tide Field, the U. East Florida recreational field that non-house fraternities use to set up tents during rush, begrudgingly introducing myself over and over again and answering the same, boring, predictable questions. Most of the fraternities we had visited so far all stressed one similar theme: brotherhood. But I was perplexed at the notion that it was possible to determine lifelong “brothers” from 45 minutes of “what do your parents do?” or “what classes are you taking?” and other bullshit, pointless, routine questions. I didn’t return the kind gesture of attempting to look interested in their mindless conversations. I very well knew they didn’t want me there as much as I didn’t want to be there myself. Sure there were lots of girls out, more in some tents than others supporting their favorite fraternity, but I’d rather put my dick in a wood cutter than put up with anymore of this social torture. The six tents we had been to so far mine as well have been the same fraternity, they all gave me the same vibe: Rich, cake-eater yacht kids that had nothing better to do with

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

their parent’s money except create armies of the Hollister campaign. I’d never seen more popped collars in my life. “Huh?” I replied. “Kappa Epsilon Gamma, Alpha Tau Chi, and Beta Epsilon Sigma.” Just three more bullshit interviews and we’re free. Kappa Epsilon Gamma, or the “Kegs” as they called themselves, weren’t that bad. There were about seven kegs in their backyard, the kind that are filled with beer, and there were girls everywhere. Some of the nicest looking we’d seen yet, one caught my eye and even initiated a conversation. My first impression was that I had finally found a life raft off of Virgin Island. I never wanted to leave. Fifteen minutes later, when I discovered every girl at the party was dating a brother, including the one that was yakking my ear off, and the beer was ten dollars for a cup for all “rushees,” Dean and I headed for the door. We had only talked to one brother, but for all I was concerned; ΚΕΓ could be potentially worthwhile if presented with different circumstances. However, from what I had seen, I was convinced they weren’t the crowd I wanted to adapt to; they seemed just as bored as I did.

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

Next was Alpha Tau Chi. Their house was definitely the most eloquent on campus, rumored at seven million dollars. After knocking on the door twice, a short but jacked young gentleman wearing a rugby shirt opened the door. He pointed to Dean and said, “You can come in.” And then pointed to me and said, “You can’t.” Douchebag Magoo then looked Dean in the face one more time, before slamming the door in both of our faces. “Fuck it,” I exhaled. “Go on without me, I have a calculus quiz tomorrow anyways.” “Fuck that shit and fuck those tool bags. There’s Beta Epsilon Sigma still, let’s go.” Beta Epsilon Sigma was definitely the most modest looking house on campus. Lacking the glamour of Alpha Tau Chi’s edifice, the ΒΕΣ house was only one story. Nothing extraordinary caught one’s attention; everything appeared to look quite normal. And boring.

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

After walking up to the front door, we were greeted by two very attractive and resplendent women. “Hey ya’ll, how’s rush going?” asked a cute sorority girl with a thick southern drawl. “Fine” was my quick reply. I looked down and shoved my hands in my pockets. I always had a horrible vice at being shy with strangers. “It’s alright, nothing special,” Dean replied. “Well that’s good that you’ve saved the BEST for last” the other girl replied. A light bulb went off in my head as I suddenly realized what the ‘__ __ __ T’ on her shirt meant. You can’t spell BEST without ΒΕΣ “What are your names?” asked the other girl, a blonde holding a clipboard. “Dean Devaney” “Sam Cleaver” “Like Beaver Cleaver?” Like I hadn’t heard that one before. I could feel the warmth on my face as my cheeks blushed. “Yeah.”

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

“That’s a really cool name,” the blonde replied as she handed Dean and me personalized nametags. “There are some real cool guys in Rage,” said the southern belle. “Rage?” I asked. Instead of answering, the girls just looked at each other and giggled. Then the blonde led Dean and me through what appeared to be a library with bookshelves covering every wall. What was more peculiar than the giant wood letters that spelt TRUTH over one of the shelves was the sudden realization of how much different this house had been than any other thus far. The house appeared to be empty. There wasn’t a fraternity brother, or any other potential pledge in sight. “Jetsons or Flintstones?” the blonde asked. Up until now, she had led us along quietly, leaving Dean and me to our own small talk, failing to explain the absence of fraternity guys in their own house. Who were these guys? Did they even care about rush? Or were they just like those ATX assholes? “Huh?” Dean responded. “Who would win in a fight? The Jetsons or the Flintstones?” repeated the blonde.

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

What kind of question was that? Was it a trick question? Did sorority girls even watch Hanna-Barbera cartoons? “Jetsons” Dean answered immediately. “Why?” “I dunno…it’s a battle of past vs. future. Jetsons have better technology, better weapons.” Better technology, sure. But I would bet a cavemen that looked like Brian Urlacher up against a pint-sized astronaut like Mr. Jetson any day. “I don’t know. I don’t think they would ever really fight each other,” I answered. “They seemed pretty peaceful on ‘Flintstones meet the Jetsons.’” The blonde giggled again. “Then again, I was more of a Yogi Berra type of guy.” I figured there was no right answer, since afterwards the blonde led Dean and me back through the house to the front common room we were first greeted at. On the other side of the leather sofas, the same video presentation of ΒΕΣ had started playing again from the beginning. “Well…it was nice meeting ya’ll” the southern belle said cheekily as we were shown to the door. “You’ll hear from Rage in the next 24 hours if they’re interested in you.”

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008

But before I could respond, the blonde had closed the front door, leaving Dean and me on ΒΕΣ’s front porch, alone as we had been before coming out to Rush. Interested in us? How the fuck could they be interested in us if they’ve never even met us?

Intellectual Property of Leaves Michael Hall Copyright 2008