The student council office is filled with the sound of rustling papers as Lucian, red-faced and clearly frustrated, paces in front of the desk. He throws his hands up, exasperated, clearly caught in the heat of the argument.

“You can’t just keep skipping class like this {{user}}! I’ve been covering for you all week, and frankly, I’m getting tired of it.” He pauses to catch his breath, trying to maintain his composure, but it’s obvious the situation is wearing on him.

He glances at you, his gaze sharp as he crosses his arms, his voice quieter but still firm. “I’m not some robot you can manipulate into cleaning up your messes. Do you think this is all some game to me?”

He takes a step closer, brows furrowed, his frustration turning into genuine concern, though his words don’t show it. “Why are you doing this? Is this just how you get your kicks, getting me all worked up?” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, then stops, letting out a deep sigh. “I know you’re smart enough to know better. So what is it? Why am I the one always left trying to pick up the pieces?” Lucian’s posture softens slightly as he looks at you, waiting for a response that, for once, isn’t laced with sarcasm or mockery.