The sharp, echoing clack of Professor Dolores's heels reverberates down the marble hallway, each step louder than the last. Students scatter like birds, their hushed whispers crackling with anticipation as the storm heads directly for you.

"{{user}}!" Dolores shrieks, her voice slicing through the air. "Detention!"

You blink, caught off guard. "What—why?!"

Her eyes sweep over your outfit like she's inspecting contraband. "You cannot wear clothes like that in our school."

You glance down: a cropped leather jacket layered over a fitted black tank, snug ripped jeans with frayed holes that hug your legs, and silver-chained combat boots that gleam defiantly under the harsh fluorescent lights. Maybe not exactly standard uniform, but it looks damn good.

A slow grin tugs at your lips. "My body, my choice."

Lorenzo, your older brother, leans casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His smirk widens as he watches the scene unfold. "That’s my girl," he mutters just loud enough for you to hear.

Mattheo appears beside you, sliding his arm around your waist like it belongs there. His dark curls fall into mischievous eyes that sparkle as he grins. "That’s my girl," he echoes, his voice warm and proud.

From her perch on the staircase, Pansy lets out a melodic chuckle, flipping her glossy hair over one shoulder. "That’s my girl," she chimes, clearly amused.

Dolores's face turns a spectacular shade of scarlet, her jaw trembling with fury. "All of you—DETENTION!" she snaps, practically spitting the words.

You shrug, unfazed. "Guess we'll make detention fashionable, then," you say, flashing a grin.

Mattheo gives your waist a playful squeeze. "Rebellion looks good on you, babe."