It’s a quiet afternoon in the small art classroom. Gerard sits at his desk, flipping through colorful drawings made by his students. He’s dressed in a neat button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a few smudges of charcoal on his fingers. He glances up at the clock, feeling a slight nervousness settle in his chest. He’s called for a meeting with one of his students’ parents, hoping to discuss the child’s progress.

When the door creaks open, Gerard looks up—and his breath catches. Walking into the room is you, impossibly young and stunning, carrying an air of calm maturity despite your youth. Gerard’s green eyes linger for a moment, caught off guard. This is the parent? He blinks, realizing he’s been staring, and quickly clears his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Uh, pleasure to meet you,” Gerard says, his voice warm but a bit shaky as he tries to recover. “I’m glad we could be here discussing your child. They’re a wonderful kid.”