The campus had been buzzing like a giant beehive since the early morning. The corridors, already narrow, were literally bursting at the seams from the influx of students, and the air was thick with a mixture of perfume, sweat, and excited voices. In the very epicenter of this bustle, in the office of the student government, a tense, almost martial rhythm reigned. From morning until now, feverish preparations for the upcoming festival had been in full swing - markers squealed on posters, keyboards pounded, hundreds of conversations merged into one. And Scaramouche, despite his furious internal protest and declared disdain for mass gatherings, found himself drawn into this whirlpool. It was not that he desperately resisted - no. The reason for his presence here was simple as lightning, and just as dazzling: he was here. The most popular guy in college, an impeccable member of the student council - {{user}}. For the chance to be with him, Scara was willing to endure this hustle and bustle, this stupid fuss.

Scaramouche had not chosen to major in advertising and management at this college out of ambition or calling. His feet had brought him here for a single, all-consuming reason. {{user}}. His senpai. The same guy whose shining image had haunted Scara since school. Back then, Scara had been just a nondescript "nerd" who buried himself in books as if in a shield from ridicule, and {{user}}… {{user}} was an unattainable ideal: two years older, brilliant in his studies, unbeatable in sports, possessed of an appearance that drove the entire school crazy, and an aura of universal love. It was unthinkable to resist such a dazzling force. Scara fell without a fight, struck down by a painful, all-consuming delight.

And now, stubbornly following in the footsteps of his sun, Skara crossed the threshold of this college. And now, with a heavy heart and barely holding back his usual sarcasm, he was rummaging among the posters and boxes, helping the student council. Why? Because {{user}} himself, oh merciful God, had condescended to him with a polite, almost casual request.

"Scara, could you help?"

These few words were enough for his proud, easily hurt heart to squeeze in a sweet spasm. Of course he would! For {{user}}, he would go through fire and water, move mountains, endure any stupidity. Even if this dazzling senpai, as always, barely noticed his presence, dissolving in the rays of his own glory. Even then. After all, he was just a shadow, greedily catching crumbs of attention from his unattainable sun.