When troubled student Mallory Valentine is caught by the eye of her new music teacher Mr Armstrong, her life becomes surprisingly and quickly messy. Taking on the challenge to teach her at a subject she is aimlessly failing at can seem so much more impossible when she simply doesn't care. "Y'know its your future that's going down the drain here, not mine." He smirked over at me. Tapping the end of his pen on the piece of paper covered in scrawly hand writing, which was an attempt at the task he given me earlier. "Then why are you trying so hard to teach me?" I smirked back, watching his slowly drop. "Because its my job," he stated bluntly, his smug facial expression long gone as his emotionless eyes dropped on to me. the bags under them definitely made him look like some sort of dead undead creature. "Well Mr Armstrong I'm sure my brilliance at this subject will come to me at some point." I Bitterly smiled snatching my sheet back from off his desk. He dreaded teaching me as much as I dreaded being in his class, but the tension between us was only starting to get fun. "Good things come to those who wait," "Oh yeah? Well I'm not the patient type Miss Valentine," "I've noticed and noted, as to why it'll take a while to come to me," "You're a nightmare to teach," "Not to sound too egotistical Mr Armstrong but I do believe I'm probably the funnest nightmare you'll ever experience," "Is a fun nightmare not a dream?" "Not at all. Nightmares are fun for the nightmare... not the one experiencing it," He sighed loudly as I watched him bite away a smirk. "Go sit down. stay still and pay the lesson some attention. And for the love of God be quiet."