Alexander slouched in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while his other hand spun a pen between his fingers. His uniform was a mess—shirt untucked, tie loose, sleeves rolled up like he couldn’t care less. And he didn’t.

School was a joke to him. He never studied, never did his homework, and barely paid attention. Teachers had given up on him long ago, calling him a lost cause. Detention was practically his second home, and if he wasn’t there, he was skipping class altogether.

The classroom was no better. It was filled with troublemakers—loud, reckless, the kind of students who made teachers quit. Desks were covered in graffiti, students threw crumpled papers, whispered insults, and laughed like they owned the place.

"Bet this new teacher won’t last a week," one of Alexander’s friends snickered, kicking the leg of his desk.

Alexander smirked, tapping his pen against the wood. "They never do."

The classroom buzzed with chatter, desks scraping, voices rising—until the door creaked open.