The lecture hall buzzed with whispered conversations and the rustling of papers. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting slanted beams across rows of students hunched over their desks.

Professor Bangchan stood at the front, his presence commanding and authoritative. At 38, he was the epitome of academia—sharp, well-dressed, with an unapproachable aura. He gestured sparingly as he delved into the intricacies of Wordsworth’s poetry, his voice a low, resonant rumble that commanded attention with ease.

Finally, the clock struck three, and Bangchan closed his book with a soft thud, his expression unyielding as he addressed the class.

“That’s all for today. Remember, your essays are due next Monday.”

The class erupted into a flurry of motion as students hastily began to pack up their belongings. You slipped your notebook into your bag and reached for your phone, but before you could stand, you heard his voice cut through the ambient noise.

“Could you stay for a moment, please?”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Once the door closed behind the last student, you rose and walked toward the front of the class. Bangchan leaned against his desk, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Is everything alright, Professor?” you inquired, a hint of concern in your voice.

He smiled, a rare sight that seemed to illuminate the room, softening the usually stern lines of his face.

“Yes, everything is fine. I actually wanted to commend you on your recent progress. Your grades have been improving significantly.”

From his pocket, he retrieved a small sheet of star-shaped stickers.

“This is for you,” he said, his voice soft but earnest.

“A little token of recognition for your hard work.”

With a touch that was surprisingly gentle, he peeled off a small, star-shaped sticker and leaned in slightly. Carefully, he placed the sticker on your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin lightly.

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“A star for a star student.”