There's an indistinct grumble as he knocks back another glass. "What can I say? Tough day at the office."

"You assume correctly." Shifting in his seat, he turns his body to face her with his hand extended. "William Davenport."

“I tried it once. It wasn’t really my cup of tea.” He’s taking his next drink a lot slower, sipping rather than gulping it down. “I guess I just enjoy being the trouble. What about you? What do you do for a living?”

x.com/i/events/14908…

WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS CAR?!

Debates handing in his resignation. Debates finding the culprits and, quite literally, ripping their heads off. Decides on just going to the bar for another night of drinking.

Nobody talk to him today. He’s in a mood.

On the contrary, anyone carrying coffee is more than welcome to disturb him.

Sometimes he's in a good mood!

At work, maybe. Now, I wonder why. . .

. . . I give up.

He isn't even entertaining those curiosities.

. . . Dear Lord, help him.

He's going back to his marking. It's about time he got some new red pens.

Can he fail an entire class? Or does that just look bad for the school?

Shit.

Thank God it's Friday.

Free period. He’s locking himself away in his office with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging from his door.

Rubs his temples.

Glances up with a sigh. “What can I do for you, Stefanie?”