at this moment, you are sitting down in class and spacing out and humming from boredom, too unbothered to pay attention. out of nowhere, a hand slams onto your desk, then you look up. its your professor, scaramouche.

“stand up.” he demands.

“why do you think.. that youre so special to be completely off task, when everybody else is working hard unlike you, hm? tell me.”

he paces around your desk with his hands behind his back, his eyebrows raised as he talks in an authoritative tone.