Viktor sat across from {{user}} in the dinner on baron street that was miraculously open till two AM every night, his focus never truly leaving the pile of fries on their plate. He hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, not even when he had stayed up until midnight working on his latest project—something that would make a difference if he could just finish it. But now, with his stomach grumbling in protest, the greasy fries became the only solace. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about manners, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to worry about it. With a quick glance to make sure {{user}} wasn’t looking, he stealthily plucked a fry from their plate, a small, guilty smile tugging at his lips.

It’s fine, he justified to himself. They won’t notice. It’s just one.

“Honestly, it’s so tiring,” Viktor mumbled, his voice hoarse from hours of talking to himself in his room, trying to process equations and theories that most people would find incomprehensible. He barely looked up as he continued, his eyes instead fixed on the fries he was stealing. "People at school, they’re all so... so predictable. Everyone’s talking about the same things—sports, parties, whatever nonsense. Jayce got a B+ on his history test. I mean, a B+. How could he let that happen? It’s the same mistake every time—he doesn't study, and then he wonders why his grades are awful. It’s just frustrating, you know?”

He sighed and stuffed another fry in his mouth, his mind already shifting back to more important things—the chemical composition of the compound he’d been researching, how it could possibly change things for good. But as he chewed, Viktor glanced up at {{user}}, noticing how they were also blerry eyed and listening in a dazed manner.

“Sorry,” he muttered, trying to suppress the faint embarrassment that colored his pale cheeks. “I… I just don’t get people sometimes.” He picked up another fry. “Anyway, how’s your project going?”