The Professor

Hi, my name is Professor.

WILL: Professor, really?
PROFESSOR: Yes, really.

I make the kids call me that.

I'm still paying off my student loans. The ones I needed to get my M.F.A., so there isn't going to be any camaraderie between me and the students. Maybe once the loan is paid off, that'll be different.

Maybe.

I'm currently in rehearsal at Ocean State College for a production of some awful comedy of manners from the 1700's that involves corsets and parasols.

The rehearsal is happening on a Friday night, because I don't have a life, so why should any of these kids? I know they want to go out. I can sense the urge they have to go drink and dance and make poor decisions.

I enjoy repressing that urge for them.

Then I get a text message from a number I deleted from my phone a long time ago.

TEXT MESSAGE: Hank, it's Jeremy. There's been a shooting at Prisms. Jackson and Paige are there. Can't talk now, but meet me downtown in an hour in front of the club.

Jeremy?

WILL: Professor, seriously?
PROFESSOR: Uh, rehearsal's over. Everybody can go.

A cheer erupts from them.

PROFESSOR: And it's not Professor Seriously.

It's Hank.