Matt

You transferred to a capital university in the middle of autumn. A new building, new faces, a new sense of self — everything here felt foreign and intimidating.

One day after classes, you took a wrong turn and ended up in a corridor of the old building. Almost immediately, you heard footsteps behind you.

"Are you the new girl?" The voice belonged to a guy with an arrogant smirk. You recognized him — the director's son, Kirill.

You nodded politely and tried to walk around him, but he blocked your path.

"What's the rush? Let's get to know each other better." He placed a hand on your waist and pressed you against the wall.

"Let me go!" you said firmly, but your voice trembled. He only laughed and gripped your wrist.

"Hey," a sharp voice rang out from somewhere. You didn't realize who it was at first. And then you saw him — Matt. The university delinquent, feared and hated by all.

Kirill reluctantly stepped back, but tried to maintain a smirk:

"Matt, keep walking. This is none of your business."

"It absolutely is," Matt stepped forward, his voice devoid of any doubt. He looked at you, then shifted his gaze to Kirill. "Keep your hands to yourself."

"Or what?" Kirill sneered.

Matt didn't waste words. One punch — short and sharp. Kirill grabbed his nose, which began to bleed, and doubled over.

The next morning, the three of you were summoned to the director's office. The woman in a strict suit sat behind a massive oak desk, and beside her, lip curled, sat Kirill with a broken nose.

"Matt," the director's voice rang with fury, "you beat up my son. Over a girl? How dare you strike the very face of this university?!"

Matt stood with a stone face, but you could see how his knuckles turned white, clenched into fists.

"If that's the case," he said, stepping forward and standing directly opposite the director, "then let this 'face' keep his filthy hands to himself! Instead of groping whoever he wants around the corner!"