A/N: I really love Outlast, and I love Miles Upshur. I notice a lot of the fandom gives love to Waylon and Eddie, and barely any to Miles. So, here I am with a Miles/OC story, because we get backstory for Waylon and none for Miles. And, since he doesn't have a canon personality (besides his notes, which I am using to base his personality on) and a canon appearance, I'm molding him to how I think he would be. I hope you enjoy! Oh and I will post my face claims for the characters soon.

-Fall 2001, Colorado State Universtiy-

Of all the days the printer had to break down, why did it have to be today?

The rain pounded on my umbrella as I raced across campus, a string of curses spilling from my mouth with every step.

My English paper was due today, and I decided, in all my great wisdom, to print it this morning instead of yesterday. But, the freaking piece of shit must smell fear because it broke down, and I had to wait FIFTEEN MINTUES for the librarian to fix it.

Which is the reason why I have to sprint towards the English building in the middle of a storm to a class I've already five minutes late for.

Eventually the two-story building came into sight, and I plowed through the door, eyes locking onto the classroom at the end of the hall.

"I'M HERE!" I shouted, slamming the door open and throwing my paper onto the professor's desk.

"Congratulations." A monotone voice chimed in from the back. "Shall we give the lady a prize, class?"

I whipped around and spotted a boy reclining in one of the seats, feet on the desk and playing on a GameBoy.

Not in the mood for this punk's attitude, I was about to fire back a response, when I realized we were the only ones in the room.

"Where is everyone?"

The guy twirled his finger, signaling for me to turn around.

On the blackboard, there was a message from Professor Willis:

Good afternoon, class!

I have a meeting today, so class is cancelled. I will take up your reports next class.

-Have a great day!

I wanted to track the bastard down and throat punch him for doing this to me.

Heaving a great sigh, I collapsed onto a nearby chair, my body feeling like lead weights.

"I take it you didn't read the e-mail he sent out this morning." The boy piped up again.

Nevermind.

I'll just throat punch this guy.

Polite, lady-like attitude be damned.

Shooting a glare in his direction, I stood up and marched over to him.

"Look. I don't need your sass at the moment. I've have a rough morning, and your input is not helping at all." I was about to storm out of the room when something dawned on me. "Wait, if you already knew class was cancelled, why are you here then?"

The boy shrugged, never taking his eyes off the GameBoy screen.

"My roommate has company over, thought I'd find some peace and quiet in here," He then glanced up at me. "But I guess not."

At the end of my rope, I flipped him off, which just made him smirk.

"You never act this way in class, Young-ja. I thought you were one of those silent bookworms."

I was surprised he knew my name.

During my three months at Colorado State, I've never seen this guy.

"How do you know my name?"

"Not very perceptive, are you," He leaned back in his chair and continued tapping away at his game. "I've sat behind you all semester. I always ask for a pencil before class starts. Remember?"

Suddenly everything clicked together, and I felt my face flush in embarrassment.

"Oh yeah. You're Miles Upshur, the journalism major."

Like me, he never spoke in class and was often forgotten in favor of the louder students.

Embarrassed at the blunder, I gathered my things and scurried towards the door.

'I'm such an idiot! How could I forget who he was?!'

"Wait," Miles called out, "why are you running away? If you're embarrassed, don't be. It was a simple mistake, not a federal offense."

Regardless, I just wanted to go back to my room and sleep away this terrible morning.

"Well, before you run off, let's exchange numbers then."

He actually shut off his name and offered up his phone.

I stared at him like he grew ten heads, and he scoffed.

"Don't flatter yourself, short stack."

Short stack?

"If I have contact with you, then I can let you know whenever class is canceled." Miles waved his phone in my face. "So, chill and hand over your phone."

Still a bit uneasy but wanting to make up for my previous mistake, I handed him my Nokia 8310 and took his Ericsson T68.

A few beeps later, Miles Upshur was in my contacts, and I was in his.

I cracked a smile at his listing: "Miles Upshur Journalist Extraordinaire".

"Well, Mr. Upshur," I shifted my books and held out my hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, don't give me your 'polite student act' now, short stack. I've already seen your true colors, so don't bother," But he took my hand in his and shook it. "And call me Miles, alright?"

I nodded and waved as I scurried from the room, barely catching his lazy wave as he returned to his GameBoy.

Not exactly the best introduction, but I guess I just made my first college friend.

I guess?