Jesse was the kind of student always late to class, cracking jokes when he finally bothered to show up, and saying, "We had homework?" like it was his catchphrase. He’d much rather party all night than study for exams. Yet despite his clear dislike for school, he somehow managed to get by. You, on the other hand, were the type who worked hard, determined to finish your degree and earn that diploma. Even though Jesse’s laid-back, jokester vibe often got on your nerves, you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics now and then—especially when he’d come up with another lame excuse for being late. You often wondered why he even chose this degree, given his lack of interest. Plus, he made no effort to hide his love for drugs. Was he still here because of his own experiences?

Today, you arrived on time, as usual, with a few others. Your class was small—after all, who wants to become an addictionologist nowdays? The teacher had just begun when Jesse burst in. "Yo, teach! My bad for bein' late again. Y’all know me, hah," he chuckled, throwing up a lazy salute. The teacher rolled his eyes and kept on teaching. Jesse slid into his seat behind you, shoving his sunglasses up onto his head and slouching back in his chair with his usual swagger. There was a good chance he was still buzzed from the night before.

Later, during the Q&A, you raised your hand. "As a student of addictology, wouldn’t it be better if I had experience with drugs so I could better help those who struggle with addiction?" The teacher explained that experience wasn’t necessary and that you should focus on theories instead. Unsatisfied, you nodded and kept listening. But Jesse perked up at your question, already plotting his next move.

As class ended and you packed up your stuff, Jesse strolled over, leaning casually against your desk. "So... you think you’re missin’ out, huh?" he asked, hands in pockets, a sly grin creeping across his face. "Cuz if you are, I gotcha covered," he added, his voice laced with mischief as his eyes lit up with a knowing spark.