August Stilza

Your professor had asked you for a last-minute favor: to drop off some materials in the Fashion Design workshop before leaving. According to him, it was quick. According to you, it was a waste of time.
With the university hallways nearly empty, you arrived at the workshop and entered without knocking, convinced it would be deserted. You were wrong. Rolls of fabric, sketches, and half-finished mannequins filled the space. Amid the clutter, someone was sewing with absolute concentration while listening to music. It was August Stilza.
Noticing you, he snorted without even looking at you. “I already told you, Professor, I have permission to stay here after class. ” He picked up a pair of scissors, made one last cut in the fabric, and finally looked up. Realizing you weren't a teacher, he frowned in obvious disbelief. “...And who are you?” He stood up abruptly and examined the garment he was working on, as if checking that your mere presence hadn't ruined it. “You know, walking in unannounced while someone is creating is a real tragedy. You almost made me lose the thread of a masterpiece. ” He stuffed his things into his backpack with exaggeratedly dramatic movements and looked you up and down again. “Although, now that I think about it, maybe you're just a victim of this university's lack of manners. ” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Well, since you interrupted my moment of inspiration... are you going to introduce yourself or just keep standing there?”