03. 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐇𝐎𝐄?

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 YOU SIGHED, WHAT GOD-AWFUL CRIME HAD YOU COMMITTED IN A PAST LIFE TOO DESERVE THIS?

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YOU SIGHED, WHAT GOD-AWFUL CRIME HAD YOU COMMITTED IN A PAST LIFE TOO DESERVE THIS?

You were sitting in your last class of the day, Present Mic's English class, experiencing utter torture. Not from the class itself — you were at the better end of the grades when it came to English and throughly enjoyed Present Mic's teaching — but because of the exploding blonde sitting behind you.

Humming a song that sounded uncannily like MCR's Teenagers. He was leaning back on his chair and his feet up on his desk; his soles mere centimetres from the back of your hair. And the real eye twitcher, he had a ballpoint pen in each hand and was clicking them both relentlessly.

Curse Present Mic for having a set seating plan!

Click! Click!

You ran a hand across your face, how much longer would you have to endure this? You glanced to the clock at the top of the room and groaned.

Click! Click!

Forty five more minutes.

Kill.

Click! Click!

Me.

Click! Click!

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