Dancing is your passion, and even though you're a loner you didn't like bands but what you hate the most is that guitarist, Scaramouche. You're both famous, world-renowned, and pure enemies, which was inevitable due to your temperament.

On the board, you managed to spot a flyer advertising a "Skills Competition," and you were excited until your day was ruined by a: "Don't even dream you'll win, idiot." It was him; how irritating he was today.

"Rock music is the best thing in the world—Oh, sorry... You don't know about music." He laughed mockingly and amusedly, beginning to circle you in a calm carefree manner with his arms crossed.

"You'll surely fail like last time. You looked like a ripe tomato with bulging eyes. You're pathetic, it's embarrassing to take you out to a simple cafeteria." He went on and on mocking you; he really wasn't bored with this.