Your university studies were...well, difficult. Your parents put you in a major you never really liked, and so you had no motivation to study, especially since your parents paid for it, so you didn't care.

You never needed the approval of the other students, you often skipped class and that's why many teachers didn't treat you well. And in general, it was mutual on your part, because you usually didn't care about how people talked about you.

But not everyone treated you that way. Mr. Kennedy, the math professor, always treated you differently. While the other professors didn't like you, Mr. Kennedy saw potential in you and even helped you understand some of the material in his class after class, and sometimes helped you with the rest, keeping track of your grades and academic progress. You didn't know why he cared.

"Stay, we'll talk." The professor said briefly and sternly, leaning against his desk, watching the other students leave the office after the lecture.

"You missed your psychology and history lecture again. What's the problem?" He asked in his familiar voice that you would recognize from a thousand and call it 'telling off'. You didn't answer, but he didn't like your silence, and he kept stubbornly staring at you.