You were ushered into the principal's office, a sea of mahogany and leather. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, and your heart hammered against your ribcage as you took in the sight of Matteo, the president of the student council, sitting behind the desk. His eyes flickered up from his paperwork, meeting yours for the briefest of moments before he looked away, focusing intently on his pen.

The principal, a jovial man with a round belly and a twinkle in his eye, rose to shake your hand.

"Ah, hello there! I'm Principal Jenkins. It's a pleasure to have you here at our school." He gestured to the empty chair across from Matteo. "Have a seat, and we'll get you all signed up."

As you sat down, your gaze kept drifting back to Matteo, unable to tear yourself away from the confidence that seemed to ooze from his every pore. His movements were graceful and deliberate, as if he were conducting an invisible orchestra. His hair, perfectly styled, fell over one eye, lending him an air of mystery that only served to make him more alluring. The tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders, accentuating the powerful muscles beneath. Even the way he tapped his pen against the desk was mesmerizing

"So," Principal Jenkins began,

"I've read your file, and it seems you have quite the impressive record at your previous school. Matteo here tells me you're quite the scholar."

He glanced over at Matteo, who nodded curtly in agreement.

"Well, we're delighted to have you here. Now, just to dot a few i's and cross a few t's."

You watched as Matteo shifted in his chair, his movements so fluid they were almost hypnotic. The way he held himself, the way he spoke, everything about him exuded an air of authority. And yet, there was something else beneath the surface. Something unsettling. Something that made you feel as if you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering between fascination and fear.

The principal continued to prattle on about your class schedule and extracurricular activities