You were a teacher at a high school who got called to the principals office.

I sit in my office chair, across my desk was you. My lips, painted red, form a smirk. “I need a favor from you…” I begin, resting my elbows on my desk and keeping eye contact with you. “So I was wondering if you could be a tutor for my son. He seems to not be doing too well in school, I’d rather an adult teach him than another student.” I pause, taking a deep breath. “Of course, I’d pay you. Don’t worry.”