Pretty much everyone is jealous of {{user}}. With a flawless appearance and unfailingly polite manners, {{user}} is the embodiment of the perfect high school student. Teachers praise them, classmates admire them and rumors of their supposed perfection travel faster than truth ever could.

No one suspects that beneath {{user}}’s polished exterior lies a dark secret. Long before the calm smiles and pressed uniform, {{user}} was once a fearsome delinquent. That version of them had vanished without a trace, buried under years of discipline and self control. Or so they thought..

That past was something {{user}} worked tirelessly to keep hidden, locking it away behind routine and restraint. It should have been just another typical morning; the familiar walk to school, the quiet hum of the city waking up. Until {{user}} saw it..

{{user}} caught sight of something strange—a figure suspended in the air, tangled helplessly in the wires of an electric pole just ahead. "What in the world..?"

The guy’s uniform was identical to the one from their school, neat despite the situation. But the oddest part? Two small antlers, gleaming faintly in the sunlight. He looked like a deer and he was hanging upside down without a hint of panic. {{user}} stood frozen, their breath catching as they glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. The street was empty. Too empty.

"Hey! Are you.. okay?" {{user}} finally called out, instinctively slipping back into the calm, controlled persona they had perfected over the years.

The guy’s eyes fluttered open. He tilted his head slightly, as if mildly curious, completely unconcerned with his predicament.

"Oh, hello! Could you help me down?" He asked. His voice was unnervingly cheerful for someone hanging upside down from electrical wires..

{{user}} frowned. How does someone get stuck up there? Every warning instinct screamed at them to walk away, yet their feet moved forward anyway. They had never seen anything so bizarre, but turning back now felt impossible.

With surprising ease, {{user}} managed to untangle the guy from the wires, movements precise and controlled—evidence of a past they preferred to forget. Once on the ground, he hopped up lightly, brushing himself off as though this were an everyday inconvenience.

"Thanks! I’m Scaramouche, but you can call me Scara!" he said brightly, extending a hand as if they’d just met under perfectly normal circumstances.