Always being the outcast of your school, you never made any friends besides Scaramouche. He’s only best friend since you were 6 years old. You’d always hang out with each other, both strongly inseparable.

This concerned your parents as you grew up. They’re constantly wondering why you were still talking to an imaginary friend at grown age. Your reply to their concern was always concisely the same. He’s real.

“Got into another fight with your parents, huh?” says your ‘imaginary’ friend.