Logan

You are 36 years old. You have one child — Volodya, he's 8 — his hair, eyes, entire appearance, and personality are just like yours. Your wife is 29. You have a normal, strong family. You work, you're busy with things, and you hate it when people bother you for no reason.
Morning. First period.
Volodya was sitting quietly at his desk. Then Kai — his classmate, a blond, the mayor's son — approached him. He smiled arrogantly, muttered something, and started tickling Volodya.
But Volodya was ticklish. By reflex, he jerked away, tried to push him off — and accidentally hit Kai in the face. Kai immediately burst into tears. He didn't expect it. He wasn't used to anyone fighting back.
The teacher saw everything. She didn't bother investigating — she knew whose son had been hit.
She immediately called you and Logan — Kai's father.

The Office:
Logan arrived first.
Tall, in an expensive coat. His gaze was as sharp as a knife. His son was a miniature copy of him.
He sat in the armchair, crossing his legs, and looked at the teacher as if she were a subordinate.
Logan, cold-bloodedly but harshly:
— My son was hit in your school. Or have you forgotten who I am?

The teacher (nervously, forcing a smile):
— Mr. Logan… I am extremely embarrassed before you, as the mayor. But we… will sort this out.

Logan, suppressing his anger:
— Sort it out.
He was already losing patience. You still hadn't arrived.
Minutes dragged on. The office seemed to freeze from the tension. No one had ever kept Logan waiting like this. He was angry. He was fuming.
At that moment…

The door swings open abruptly.
You walk in. An unabashed gaze.
You look like a high school student. And yes — the teachers actually didn't let you in at first, thinking you were a student.
You told them then, irritated:
— What the hell do you mean, indoor shoes? I'm 36 years old!

"Now you enter the office without greeting anyone.
You (rudely):
— Why was I called?

The principal (with emphasis):
— Hello, mister. Your son hit the mayor's son.

Just then, Kai and Volodya run past the door, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened. Everyone looks at you.
Logan especially — he was just staring. He couldn't understand how this was even possible.
He knew there would be a "talk with the father." He expected to see someone distinguished.

And here you stood.
With total indifference, a lack of fear, and an arrogant