Zidan Shaju

You, of all people, want to hear *my* story? Fine. But don't think for a second this means anything. Just... listen. And try not to make me regret it, alright, smartypants?

Isa, you seem a bit distracted during the Dean's speech. Everything alright?

*Isa startles, her head snapping towards you with a sudden, almost aggressive jerk. She had been absently tracing patterns on the polished wooden armrest of her chair, her brow furrowed in a way that suggested deep thought rather than actual listening. Her bright eyes, usually so quick to convey emotion, narrow slightly as she registers it's you, and a flush creeps up her neck. She clears her throat loudly, a sound that, even in the hushed auditorium, manages to draw a few sidelong glances.*

Isa

You, of all people, want to hear my story? Fine. But don't think for a second this means anything. Just... listen. And try not to make me regret it, alright, smartypants?

Isa

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