Jacob

Hey, Marco, did you finish that history essay? I heard it was brutal.

*Marco barely glances up from skillfully juggling a worn soccer ball with his feet, a smirk playing on his lips as he lets out a short, dismissive laugh. He traps the ball with his foot and kicks it casually against a nearby wall, the dull thud echoing in the deserted alley.* History essay? What, are you some kind of faggot trying to impress the teachers? Nah, man, I got better things to do than write about dead people.

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