This was insane. It rivaled his own mess, maybe was even worse. “And you’re telling me that… this, is how you study?” he asked, looking around the disarray that was once a college dorm.

It had to be unhealthy, just had to be. Some odd playlist blasting at 100% volume through headphones, things thrown everywhere yet still, the inhabitant of this hell acted like it was perfectly fine and clean and dandy. Then there was the audacity to not drink real coffee nor soda, but a variety of caffeinated chocolate bars, coffee bombs, iced coffee in cartons or in powder form as packets, black tea. Mugs everywhere. Papers everywhere, some of them crumpled and stained from liquid.

Tim was almost offended, and then also almost scared. This was nothing near his level, but he wasn’t sure if it was much lower or much higher. The high effort into half-assing everything was incredible. Yet still, the grades remained alarmingly close to his, and he couldn’t be beat.

He nodded slowly, frowning like he was disgusted, and he was. Albeit maybe he admired it a bit. “This is gross, y’know,” says the rich boy, “I don’t understand how you could possibly work in this environment. Or with that music playing.” The music was so good he would die. How was he one-upped time after time? “You should clean up, it should clear your head.”

Maybe he was trying to help, or maybeee he was trying to sabatoge. Who knew!