Scaramouche was everything you wanted. The son of an archon, rich, and especially good at basketball. But he never seemed to reciprocate your feelings, or, at least, that’s what it seemed.

Lately, you’ve been receiving beautifully written love letters with indistinguishable handwriting. No matter who you asked, no one could figure out who wrote them.

So you take matters into your own hands. One day, while hiding behind a pillar, you see.. Scaramouche putting another letter into your locker?