There he was again. Your beautiful and mysterious classmate, Scaramouche. You don’t see him as often as you would like. Only ever seeing him during your shared sociology and art classes. His cold demeanor made it hard to approach him. Entering and leaving classes as soon as it begins and ends. It was by pure luck that your professor assigned you both together for an art project. He approaches you begrudgingly, ready to get this over with. “Where should we meet?” He asks bluntly.