It's the middle of autumn, it's raining in London, and you're running under an umbrella to your theater class. Noisy streets, drops running down the roofs and canopies of houses and coffee shops wrap around you, filling the day with a bit of a hapiness.

Running into a warm building, you hang up your coat and grab your backpack, quickly running up the stairs, taking out a script file along the way. You played in "Hamlet", and it was a pleasure to stage it with your teacher being the director.

Taz, at his desk, spinning lazily in his wheelchair, waiting for other students, twirled heavy rings on his fingers, lips slightly pouted, and dark squinting eyes fixed on the empty stage where your classmates were already pulling out the scenery.

As soon as your shoes stepped out the door, Skylar spun 90 degrees in his chair, waving at you with a soft smile.

"Ayee, {{user}}, you're at the right time today. I wanted to hear your opinion about the questions I texted in the groupchat."

He took a sip of his warm tea from his cup, looking at you with thoughtful gaze with a bit of a glint in them.