Noel thought this was weird from the start. Weird enough to ask around to attempt to learn what was up, and then weirder when he didn't learn anything from that. Parties are not things that occur in a vacuum, devoid of any gossip or apparent planning. People know about them, talk about them. This - isn't that.

He decides, after some deliberation, to investigate it personally.

Somewhat complicated by how his younger sister has decided to tag along.

"Soooo," observes Yvette, looking at the door, "that's, what. 60-40 odds for sketchy kidnapping setup versus socially inept party planning?"

"I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt. This is too obvious for a kidnapping setup; it was posted on too many bulletin boards. The police would have it sorted out in no time at all."

"Oh, sure, and since we have our IDs it won't take them that long to identify our corpses when the inevitable serial killer shows up. No time at all."

"I don't think a serial killer's as inevitable as you're thinking. Especially since I had mom send the police a tip about the party. And you don't have to come."

"Oh, yes, because they care so much about college parties. ... And I know I don't, but I didn't want you to show up alone. Because what if there is a serial killer?"

"I fling myself in front of you in a suitably fraternal fashion?"

Snort.

"Yes. And then I call the police, while using you as a human shield. Flawless plan."

"We've had better. C'mon, before anyone else shows up."

They go to investigate.

When they arrive they find a door propped open with a table with scraps of paper with the names of six old pop songs in colored ink with alphanumeric codes underneath and drinks on it and a closed elevator door with a call button next to it. Nobody else is evident.

The six songs are

Red) It's My Party

White) Great Balls of Fire, 

Blue) House of the Rising Sun 

Green) I Can See Clearly Now, 

Black) In the Year 2525, and 

Yellow) Stairway to Heaven

"... Odds slightly more in favor of inept party planning. What the hell?"

"Might be some kind of mystery game setup." He picks up a drink and sniffs it, thoughtfully.

"Sure, because the definitely not drugged and completely and utterly safe abandoned open topped drinks give the whole place that key aura of mystery. Noel, if you drink that, I'm pretty sure it's my job to give you a mom look. In mom's place."

The drink smells like ordinary chocolate milk with a very faint hint of something metallic. The other drinks are colored like fruit juices and if he picks them up they'll smell like juice but with the same faint hint.

He's definitely going to smell all of them.

"... There's definitely something in this," he observes.

"Uh huh. So is it rohypnol, or is our enterprising serial killer branching out on the drug types?"

Yvette starts inspecting the bits of paper with codes on them. Do the alphanumeric codes repeat, is it one per song, or what?

The codes match the songs, with each slip being identical to the ones that are the same color. If she presses the elevator call button, the doors will open to reveal a large elevator carriage with a keyboard and a calculator style display with the same width as the codes mounted to the back. The elevator matches the modernist aesthetic of the building but it has no buttons other than the keyboard and it looks like it couldn't be built by conventional technology. There are no visible seams anywhere in the elevator it is as if it was cast from a single sheet of metal.

Huh.

Yeah, she's definitely taking one of each of these.

Noel does the same, then goes to peer at the elevator.

"... Pretty high tech for a college party."

"I stand by my earlier assertion that this is super sketchy and we should leave before the serial killer shows up."

Noel is thoughtfully looking at the elevator.

"Do you think this elevator came with the building?"

"... I don't know, I'm not an architect? But wow yes it does look weird, doesn't it."

"Yep."

He peers at the keyboard, thoughtfully. They can't exactly type in the code without trusting the sketchy elevator.

"So, try the code, or not?"

"Noel, I really think we're not qualified to handle... whatever... this situation is. It's creepy. I feel out of my depth. Besides, I'm not even in college yet, what am I doing at a college party."

"I thought the order of the day was following me around narrating sarcastically."