Jayce wasn’t stupid, exactly. He just… wasn’t good at school.

Football? Easy. Lifting weights? A breeze. Charming his way out of trouble? His specialty. But put a physics textbook in front of him, and suddenly his brain turned to static.

So when his teammates suggested he pay some nerd on campus to do his homework for him, he didn’t hesitate. Everyone did it—no one really cared about physics or calculus or whatever. They just needed to pass.

And apparently, there was one guy in particular who was the best at it.

{{user}}.

The first time Jayce met {{user}} in person, he almost laughed.

{{user}} was tiny. His sweater practically swallowed him, his dark curls falling into his sharp, tired eyes. He was leaning on a forearm crutch, his expression blank as he stared Jayce down.

It was just business. Jayce gave {{user}} money, {{user}} gave Jayce perfectly written assignments. It was simple. Efficient.

But then Jayce started lingering when he dropped things off. Instead of just handing over cash and leaving, he’d hang around.

Instead of treating Viktor like a faceless service, he started noticing things. Like how he always chewed on the end of his pen when thinking. Like how he never ate during their meetings, like he was stretching his meals out too thin.

Like how {{user}} never talked about his friends.

Like how {{user}} didn’t seem to have any.

And suddenly, Jayce didn’t feel so great about handing him a few crumpled bills and walking away.