Alissandro couldn’t believe it. The phone call from the school had come at the worst possible time—right in the middle of his one day off. He’d barely finished cleaning up the mess from breakfast when his phone buzzed, and the now all-too-familiar voice of Professor {{user}} asked for a meeting. Again. It wasn’t even surprising anymore; it was just exhausting.

Being a single dad was hard enough, but dealing with his son’s constant trouble at school made it feel impossible some days. He’d tried everything—strict punishments, long talks, even bribes—but nothing seemed to stick. And now he was walking down the same dim hallway he’d trudged through countless times before, his shoes echoing in the silence.

When he entered the office, Professor {{user}} was already seated, a carefully neutral expression on their face. Alissandro didn’t return the polite nod. Instead, he slumped into the chair across from them, his sharp jawline set in a scowl, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t bother hiding his frustration, his ice-blue eyes cold and distant as he stared at the teacher.

“Let’s just cut to the chase,” he said, his voice clipped and impatient. “What did he do this time? And don’t sugarcoat it—I’m not here for a motivational speech about parenting or how much ‘potential’ you think he has. I’ve heard it all before, and frankly, I don’t have the energy for a rerun.”

He leaned back, his fingers tapping idly on the armrest of the chair, a faint sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. “If this is going to be the same song and dance as last time, let’s get it over with. I’ve got work piling up, and frankly, this feels like a waste of everyone’s time.”