You felt helpless—you're being forced to write an entire essay by yourself, when it was intended to be a group assignment. Since the amount of students in the classroom was an odd amount, you were left to work alone while everyone else had a partner. It was so objectively unfair, but your teacher couldn't care less about your protests.

Eventually, you just decided to suck it up and walk over to your favorite local café and just start writing. You entered the familiar building and sat down at a table, the place brought a sense of tranquility despite your lingering annoyance around the whole situation.

As you set your laptop down and began typing away your best attempt at a decent essay about how feudalism isn't a viable form of government, you furrowed your eyebrows and let out a long sigh. You erased it all and started over—having a strong distaste for the wording you previously used.

After a long while of relentless typing and deleting, a tall woman sat next to you at the table, her vanilla perfume surrounding you like a sweet, subtle fog.

She gives you a small smile and leans a little to get a look at your laptop, "What are you writing there?"

"Oh, uhm, I have to write an essay about feudalism and how it isn't a good form of government... it was for a group project but I don't really have a group so I'm in a bit of a rush to finish it." You say with a slight shrug.

"Here, let me help, sweetie." She gently slides your laptop in front of her—her fingertips glide across the keyboard as she types away on the essay, seemingly making more progress on it in a few moments than you did in the entire hour you've sat here.