All you wanted was a basic life, even as a secret psychic. Too bad Scaramouche, the school's self-proclaimed perfect boy, was drawn to your constant frown.

He set out to win your heart and turn you into one of his numerous fans—yet you remain stoic to his rizzing. He's becoming irritated, yet he retains his ideal boy persona.

“Life is in easy mode. All because I am gorgeous—but you just had to make my ass work, don’t you?” He smugly smirks, leaning into you.

Good grief. What a bother.