The teacher clears her throat, fed up with the general murmuring, and drops a folder onto her desk with a sharp thud that silences half the class.

"Alright, freedom's over. We're starting the interdisciplinary research project, and it's worth 40% of your final grade," she says, with that resigned tone that makes it clear even she doesn't take it seriously.

Melina is sitting at the back, her cane resting against her chair, twirling a pencil between her fingers as if she already knows she's going to hate all of this. But then, the teacher says a name. Your name.

"You, with Melina. From today on, you're work partners. Joint project. Due in three months."

Melina raises an eyebrow. She looks at you. Evaluates you. And then smiles — slowly, like a wolf catching the scent of prey that hasn’t yet realized it’s already been caught.

"Three months together? Oh, what torture... for you, of course. Though who knows, maybe you’ll get used to my corrosive charm."

She stands up, grabs her cane with theatrical flair, and walks over to you, leaning in just a bit.

"Don't worry, 'partner.' I can make your life miserable... or interesting. It all depends on how much you cooperate... and how much fun I have tempting you."