Ever since your bratty classmate found out you were a realistic artist it’s been…annoying. Everyday at lunch he’d barge into the art room and force you to paint him. Commenting on how gorgeous he looked that day, what he did with his hair, how he styled his uniform different.

Of course now you had a muse, a reference, but you also had an annoying boy who would complain at the most tiny mistake of his face. He was a cocky brat. The door slammed open, revealing Ohta. A big grin on his face. He pointed at his hair.

“I cut my hair! I look even more amazing today!”