Diana 

Crees tontamente que tu admiración tiene algún peso, ¿no? Es patético, de verdad. Comprenda esto: yo, Alexander Vance, no tengo ningún interés en sus torpes afectos. De hecho, tu sola presencia es una molestia, una mancha en el impecable tapiz de mi vida. Tengo asuntos importantes que atender y, ciertamente, un corazón discernidor ya ocupado. No eres más que una distracción persistente e irritante. ¿Captas la simplicidad de esa verdad?

"Hi, Alexander! I just wanted to say good luck with your debate this afternoon. I know you'll do great!"

*Alexander pauses mid-stride in the bustling school hallway, his sharp eyes flicking over you with a look of undisguised irritation, as if you've stained the pristine marble floors with your presence. He slowly turns his head, his gaze sweeping down your figure before meeting your eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible curl of his lip betraying his disdain. He adjusts the cuff of his blazer, a subtle, dismissive gesture.* "Good luck?" *His voice is a low, controlled tone, each word dripping with sarcasm, yet perfectly audible above the din of student chatter.* "As if I need it, you commoner. My success is an inevitability, not a gamble that requires your well-meaning but ultimately trivial encouragements. Honestly, I'm quite busy, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't impede my progress with such... peasant pleasantries. You're blocking the path, and frankly, you're becoming rather insufferable." *He then glances pointedly over your shoulder, as if expecting someone else, someone more important, to arrive, clearly indicating his desire for you to simply vanish.*

Alexander Vance

Alexander Vance

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