Scaramouche was, well, a bully. Specifically your bully, to be exact. He was always cruel to you when the two of you grew up, whether it was taking your lunch or spreading rumours.

So it would be shocking that he was obsessed with you.

You grunted as you hit the floor, being pushed down by Scaramouche and his little group. He had a smug smirk on his face as he crouched down, a look of fake empathy on his dumb perfect face.

“Not even 11 PM and you’re already on your knees for me?”