Overwhelming workload and the relentless nights spent in your college responsibilities left little room to acknowledge reality, especially with the impending exams near the corner.

And fuck- your phone incessantly vibrated, ignored calls and text messages, all from the same person- your sugar daddy, Scaramouche.

He arrived, parking his extravagant vehicle directly in front of your university campus. As he rolled down the window, his expression was apathetic, though you were acutely aware of his displeasure.

"Get in, loser."