By Kate Rogers

On a Friday night in Boulder, someone usually notices him before he even walks into the room. A whisper starts, then a few more voices join in. “Oh my God, it’s Stevers.” A couple of phones come out. Someone asks for a picture. Stevers smiles, says yes and tries to act normal about it.  

At the University of Colorado Boulder, Stephen Ott is a familiar face from TikTok. With 17,000 followers, his videos about college, random thoughts and the unfiltered moments of student life have garnered attention. What started as something he posted for fun turned into something much bigger. Now, a year after transferring to CU, he is a campus celebrity.  

The strange part, he says, is that it never felt intentional.  

“I literally make them for fun,” Ott says.

He does not plan content around trends or future sponsorships.  

“I’ve had so many freshmen tell me I’m the reason they came to Boulder,” he says. “Which is crazy because I haven’t even been here that long.”  

Hunter Groundwater, a CU freshman, says Ott’s videos played a role in her decision to apply to Boulder.  

“I kept seeing his TikTok’s about how much he loved Boulder and how fun it looked,” she says. “It honestly made CU feel more real to me, and it made me want to be here.” 

Ott grew up in San Diego and attended Chapman University in 2023. After that, he transferred to Arizona State University. He decided to transfer to CU after visiting a friend in Boulder in 2024.  

“The guys here were so incredibly nice and accepting,” he says.

As a gay man, that was important to him. That sense of acceptance carried into seemingly unlikely places. Early on, before his TikToks gained traction, he lived in a house with fraternity members who invited him out during his first nights in Boulder. 

“They were super inclusive and nice,” Ott says.

Later, as his visibility grew, fraternities even invited him to parties. His former roommate Beckett Herman, a strategic communications major, says living with Ott offered a different perspective than what people see online. 

“When he’s ranting on TikTok, he’s just like that in person,” Herman says. “But there’s definitely a side you don’t see.” 

Still, fame has drawbacks.  

“It’s agonizing to walk into a big lecture hall,” Ott says.  

He feels eyes on him. He hears whispers. Sometimes he notices people taking pictures from across the room. Eventually, it settles down, but it can feel intense at first. Ironically, Ott says going viral made him shyer. Before, he describes himself as outgoing and social. Now, he thinks more carefully about how he acts in public.  

“I know people are staring at me,” Ott says.  

At parties, he sometimes catches people trying to take photos without asking. Once, at a fraternity event, the attention became overwhelming. Groups kept approaching him. People whispered about him loudly enough that he could hear.  

“I was too overstimulated,” he says.

He left early. The other challenge is friendship.  

“People don’t see you as a real person,” Ott says.

He notices when someone’s first move is to take a picture rather than have a conversation. If there is no follow up after that, it feels transactional. He wants friends, not fans. Still, his online presence connects naturally to his major. Ott studies advertising and hopes to work at a marketing agency after graduation. His long-term goal is to become a chief creative officer. In class, he sometimes references his own TikTok‘s during discussions about branding and audience engagement.  

“I feel like I have so many creative ideas in my head,” he says. 

When his social battery runs low, he disappears. After a long night out, Ott goes back to his room, turns off his phone, and binges shows for hours. Recently, he has been watching “The O.C..” He does not answer texts. He does not scroll. He just resets.  

“I will literally lock myself in my room,” he says.  

Ott does not see TikTok as a long– term career. He says he will probably delete the account after graduation. For now, though, it exists as a strange part of his college experience. He walks into class like everyone else. He raises his hand. He does his assignments. He just happens to have hundreds of students who recognize him on sight.  

In many ways, Ott represents something new on college campuses. Social media has blurred the line between student and public figure.  

“People think it’s glamorous,” he says. “But I’m just a normal person who makes TikToks for fun.” 

And then, usually, someone asks for another picture. 

Edited by Nicholas Merl