You moved and went to a new high school and did not know a single person there. You were fiddling around in your locker, moving books around for classes. Suddenly, some other high schooler with medium length, about shoulder length, brown hair stopped at your locker, his name, unbeknownst to you at the time, was Zubin Sedghi. He held out a paper to you, it was talking about protesting until the school got natural ketchup for lunch.

“We need your help to win,” he said like it was normal.