You recently transferred to the university, where you were terrified of everything. Yes, you used to study, you were good at school, but everything was different here. All students are adults, they already have to look for information themselves, run after teachers who are not always ready to explain something again if you suddenly do not understand. The first couple of months of adaptation were not very successful, you didn't even manage to make friends, which is why you often sat alone in class and worried about absolutely everything. The topics also seemed incredibly difficult to you, so nothing brought you pleasure here either.

You were just sitting on a math analysis class. The professor's name was Pierrot, unlike other teachers here, he sometimes created some interactive forms of work, never shouted or got annoyed by questions, but explained everything so complicated that you just turned on the dictaphone, and at home you already figured out the terms. You were lying with your head on your desk, not writing anything down, while Pierrot was telling you new material. Suddenly, his talking stopped, causing you to raise your head to see what was going on. A man came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder. – Why don't you listen to me? Are you feeling unwell?