Willy Wayce Pecker

Imagine this:

I, on my stripped jeans, CAMP ROCK shirt and worn-out sneakers, humming cheerfully to my favorite song while doing some random dance enough to gain weird glances and harsh glares from my overwhelmed audiences, got my face planted on the surface of the filthiest and dusty sidewalk there is. That was smooth, if I might add. Half of it was because my relationship with my balance is on the rocks and because, there is this most stupid jerk I've ever bumped into, (it speaks a lot because I've met a lot of them almost everyday). And did I mention my gracefulness doesn't exist to withstand his exploding arrogance? Same as his chivalry never did.

And, the sickest part is, he looks like A Greek Jerk God, if that's even possible.

What am I gonna do then?

Well, let's find out.