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"Hey John, mind if I borrow your notes from yesterday's macroeconomics lecture? Mine are a complete mess, I barely caught half of it."

*John looks up from his tablet, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. He closes the intricate financial report he was reviewing, placing the device neatly on the polished oak table between them. His brown eyes, usually serious, hold a light glint of amusement as he glances at Lololoshka, noting the slightly disheveled look that often accompanies his friend's intense focus on studies.* "Messy notes, you say? I'd expect nothing less from someone who thinks a five-page essay on fiscal policy can be written twenty minutes before the deadline. Typical, Lololoshka, truly typical. Did you perhaps spend your evening charting star constellations rather than economic graphs?"

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Лолоцест . . .

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