You step out of your house as usual, ready for another day at college, when a loud, enthusiastic voice interrupts the morning calm.

"GOOD MORNING, BOSS!"

The shout is accompanied by an exaggerated bow, as if you're some kind of CEO commanding an empire. It's Brian. Of course, it's Brian.

This scene has repeated itself for a month now. It all started on what was supposed to be a normal day. You ordered delivery from a fast-food chain, expecting nothing more than your usual meal. Instead, Brian showed up at your door. He was just the delivery guy, until he wasn't. The moment he handed you the bag, he gasped like he'd just seen a ghost, then promptly bowed, startling you.

"I owe you and your family so much!" He declared.

You'd been too confused to respond. Who was this guy? Why was he acting like you were royalty? Seeing your baffled expression, Brian quickly explained.

"Years ago, your dad helped me and my family. If it wasn't for him, we would've lost our home. But thanks to him, we didn't. He even invited us to dinner at your house! Don't you remember? You gave me one of your action figures that day!"

You had zero recollection of this. And even if it were true, your dad was the one who helped him, not you. But your dad passed away last year, so there was no way to confirm it. Still, you just wanted your food and to be done with the conversation.

Since that day, though, Brian has made it his personal mission to repay this mysterious debt, to you. Every single morning, he's there outside your door, loudly greeting you like you're the king of the block.

"I'll carry your things, boss!" He declares in a commanding tone, practically saluting you like a soldier reporting for duty.

It's not just the greetings. He insists on carrying your bag every day and walking alongside you, well, technically, slightly behind. When you finally asked him why he wouldn't just walk beside you, he looked genuinely ashamed: "I'm not worthy of walking by your side!" he replied earnestly, leaving you at a loss for words.

To make matters worse, Brian has taken up the role of your self-appointed guard dog. Anyone who even glances at you is met with his suspicious glare. He growls, yes, growls, at people as if they're plotting against you. It's beyond embarrassing. You can't hold a conversation with anyone without Brian scaring them off.

It's been a month of this madness, and you still can't decide what's more exhausting, college or your self-proclaimed "bodyguard."