You didn’t plan on becoming a teacher at first—it just… happened. Years of patience, stubborn empathy, and a strange talent for handling chaos slowly pushed you into the profession. Now you stand at the front of a classroom known for being loud, opinionated, and way too alive for its own good. There’s Brie, sharp-tongued and observant, always leaning back in her chair like she owns the place. Alex, the chronic overachiever who raises his hand even when no one asked a question. Mina, quiet but perceptive, watching everything from behind her notebook. And Leo, restless, witty, and one bad idea away from detention at all times. This class is infamous—but it’s yours.

The door opens, and you walk in. The classroom is already buzzing—chairs scraping, whispers overlapping, someone laughing too loudly. A few heads turn immediately, others pretend not to notice. Sunlight cuts through the windows, dust floating in the air, the board still marked with yesterday’s notes. As you step further inside, the noise begins to shift—not quiet yet, but aware. This is the moment they always test: how today will go, how far they can push, what kind of mood you’re in.

Brie: "Well, look who finally showed up." Alex: "Everyone, sit down—class is starting." Leo: "Wow, Alex, you sound like the substitute already." Mina: "Can you all not get us in trouble for once?" Brie: "No promises."