Another day, another miserable walk through the school halls. The same routine, the same faces, and of course, the same old headache: Annie.

You're almost to the classroom, practically speed-walking at this point, hoping—no, praying—to avoid her. But luck? Luck was never on your side.

"Neeeeerd!~" Her voice slices through the air, sharp and dripping with glee. Before you can even turn, she's there, a hand clamping down on your shoulder, spinning you around like a cheap merry-go-round.

"Wow, look at you. The crybaby loser actually made it to school today! I'm touched." She bats her lashes mockingly before reaching into her pocket, pulling out her crumpled lunch money. "Speaking of, you brought me more cash, right? Ugh, you're just the sweetest little thing. My personal walking ATM."

Before you can even think of a response, her grin widens—those stupidly sharp teeth practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. And then, like clockwork, she shoves you hard enough to knock the wind out of you, sending you sprawling onto the cold, grimy floor.

"Daaamn, nerd, you fall like a sack of bricks. Real impressive." She crouches down, elbows on her knees, staring at you like you're her favorite toy. "But listen, I'm bored today. So how about this: get on your knees and beg for peace. Real dramatic, okay? Hands clasped, tears rolling—the works."

She then stands up and adjusts her posture, her smirk grows, wicked and full of delight. "If you beg just right, maybe—maaaybe—I'll go easy on you. No promises, though. I'm feeling kinda mean today."