chapter 03

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Jean's house was filled with the lively sound of a song called Animal by Neon Trees emanating from her black-cased phone. The afternoon felt oddly enigmatic to her, and the silence of the house was unsettling. In response, she decided to blast music loudly, perhaps until her neighbors inevitably filed a noise complaint.

That day, Jean didn't stay until the practice was over. She was too tired and overstimulated by the newfound fact that Scott no longer has his asthma, presumably, and the whole wolf thing. It got too weird for her taste, so she decided to go home and relax. Her form of relaxation other than human contact happens to be self care and food. She painted her toenails in her favourite color, mahogany red, while waiting for her favourite food-pizza-in the oven to cook. This time Jean experimented by rolling the dough into a cylinder shape to get a nice pizza sandwich.

It was right around the time she finished her final nail that her phone rang. When she saw the caller's ID, she sighed. Stiles is calling her out of nowhere, and he doesn't do that. They don't really talk or text each other, ever. Scott is the bridge between them; they barely had any contact together, so it was a bit shocking that Stiles was calling her. Without Scott, Jean would probably never talk to Stiles, and neither would Stiles. They were bound by Scott.

Although, if she could guess, it was probably about some weird adventure again. Nothing related to Stiles was ever normal. She picked up the call to stop the incessant ringing.

"What is it, Stil-" Her sentence was rudely interrupted abruptly by Stiles' demanding tone. "Get to my house, now!"

And just like that, the call ended. The audacity Stiles had in thinking Jean would go just because he asked-rudely-was infuriating Jean to the bone. As if she would just abandon everything to accommodate him. He needs a quick reality check to see that he can't just demand anyone, especially Jean, to help him.

Growing up as the only child, Jean always loved doing the complete opposite of what people asked of her. It was like a special way for her to get under people's skin, even if the things she has to do are completely batshit crazy. She happens to love proving people wrong.

She was planning to not come to Stiles' house, but just right after her oven dinged, signaling that her pizza was done and ready to be devoured, she received multiple text messages from Stiles. He kept insisting Jean had to come, and when he mentioned that it was regarding Scott, Jean had no reason to say no anymore.

Jean couldn't shake the worry gnawing at her. Scott's health remained a mystery, especially after that suspicious bite. What if it wasn't just a wolf? The thought of him not seeing a doctor gnawed at her.

After packing some slices of pizza to go and making sure the nail polish on her toenails were all dry, she went out the door and walked a few blocks to Stiles' house. Yes, she is well aware that she can drive there, but with the incessant buzz coming from her phone, she chose to annoy Stiles-as her form of revenge, of course-by walking rather slowly.

Upon reaching Stiles' house, Jean noticed that the door was unlocked. Pausing for a moment, she debated whether to knock or simply enter. Considering it was Stiles' house she was visiting, she concluded that knocking probably wasn't a necessity.

Once she was through the door, Jean started calling Stiles' name out loud while checking the surrounding area. While this is not her first time at Stiles' house, it certainly is her first time here alone, without Scott dragging her ass to Stiles' house.

"In here!" yelled Stiles. His voice seemed to be coming from the second floor, forcing Jean to go upstairs. She really didn't want to be here, let alone in Stiles' room without Scott. It would be very awkward, according to Jean's assumption.

The moment Jean saw Stiles' state of mind, which was clearly the projection of his mind, she started to wonder what her purpose was here because Stiles clearly had everything under control. "Woah, how much Adderall have you had today?" asked Jean, looking very concerned.

A ton of papers were lying around, his chair flipped, his desk filled with more papers, the printer kept running, and what gave it away the most was the fact that he looked insane. His room and he were practically a mess. Now, Jean didn't know how to handle this type of Stiles. She never really saw him in this state of mind.

Of course, Jean knew that Stiles had ADHD, and he took Adderall to help him focus and all, but his state of mind didn't scream focus at all. It was like chaos had swept his whole room apart.

"Get in!" Stiles hurriedly stood up, gesturing for Jean to come in. Unable to stand the mess, Jean picked up his flipped chair from the ground and put it back where it belonged. Their movements were surprisingly in sync because the moment the chair was upright, Stiles sat on it.

Completely ignoring Jean's previous question, Stiles practically shoved different information he had gathered in front of her face. "You gotta see this thing. I've been up all night reading-websites, books, all this information."

Feeling completely confused and overwhelmed, Jean asked, "What is all this?"

"Remember the joke I threw at Scott the other day in the woods?" recalled Stiles, with a nervous look on his face. To be quite honest, Jean couldn't remember which joke Stiles meant; he bullied Scott a lot, so she simply shook her head.

"Well, that wolf bite joke, yeah, not a joke anymore. I started doing all this reading...." Stiles continued his ramble and abruptly stood up, causing Jean to stumble back because they were too close for her liking.

Antsy Stiles proved to be a confusing lad, which is why Jean reached out and held Stiles' shoulders with both of her hands. With her eyes narrowing on Stiles' face, she hissed, "Stop moving!"

In an instant, Stiles stopped moving around and focused his eyes on Jean. "Now, explain. What do you mean that the wolf bite is not a joke anymore?" inquired Jean with a softer voice.

"Do you know why a wolf howls?" Instead of answering like a normal person, of course, Stiles answered Jean's question with a question. Quickly, Jean shook her head, begging whatever God was out there to force Stiles to make his point already.

"It's a signal, okay? When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em," answered Stiles while his eyes shifted to some place else other than looking at Jean.

This prompted Jean to let go of Stiles' shoulders; she thought he must've been uncomfortable being stared at by her. "You mean there's a whole pack of wolves in Beacon Hills?" confirmed Jean, from what she understood.

Looking back dead at her eyes, Stiles bluntly replied, "No, werewolves."

Surely Jean must've heard it wrong. Maybe Stiles needs to rest; he clearly is not in his right state of mind. Perhaps he watched too many movies in his free time, since he can no longer separate reality from fiction.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Jean offered while guiding him to sit on his bed, "You should get some rest, Stiles."

"No! I'm okay! I know you think it's crazy, but did you see Scott practice today? He was impossibly amazing! There's no way he can just become a pro overnight. He didn't even struggle to breathe in the field," rambled Stiles while stepping away from Jean so she couldn't force him to sit on the bed again.

Stiles didn't want to sit; he had too many thoughts and theories to simply sit idly by. Jean would give him credit. It's true that what Scott did was impossible, but does that really mean a supernatural creature bit him and turned him into... a super boy? That also sounded impossible.

"I get it, but werewolves don't exist, Stiles. In fact, no supernatural creature exists," rebutted Jean.

"But it's the only logical thing to explain Scott's sudden changes overnight!" Stiles insisted that his theory was right. Some supernatural creatures, specifically werewolves, bit Scott.

Before Jean could counter Stiles' statement, Scott walked in with his backpack on his shoulder.

"You called him?!"

"Took you long enough!"

"What are you two doing?"

All three of them shouted at the same time. Clearly, Stiles' room had an effect that left people stressed out. "How much Adderall has he had today?" asked Scott to Jean, to which she replied with a shrug. She assumed a lot.

After dropping his backpack, Scott inquired, regarding all the mess in Stiles' room, "What's all this?"

"I just told Jean about all the things I have read, and remember the joke I threw at you the other day? Not a joke anymore," blurted Stiles to Scott. All Jean could do was sigh. She decided to sit on Stiles' bed and leave the two boys alone.

Jean can't possibly comprehend the idea of a werewolf, some kind of creature, roaming the earth. She thought, surely people would've noticed that strangeness. The line between fiction and reality is very clear for Jean. Humans equal reality, and supernaturals equal fiction. It's not rocket science, which is why Jean can't understand why Stiles even entertained the idea.

Okay, so maybe Scott no longer has asthma; perhaps it's a miracle. She rather believes in a sudden miracle than werewolves, for sure. Or maybe Scott doesn't have asthma; he just has an anxiety attack. Who freaking knows at this point?

By the time Stiles dropped the 'W' bomb on Scott, Scott snapped, "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

Ah... Jean almost forgot about Scott's new crush. She was very surprised by the revelation that Scott managed to make a plan with Allison, let alone talk to her. Where's shy Scott?

When Scott picked up his backpack and got ready to leave, Stiles grabbed him by the arm with one hand and pressed his other against his chest so that he was forced to stay where he was while he tried to convince Scott that he was telling the truth.

Jean could practically smell the anger from both sides, which is why she decided to step in and insert herself in the middle of them. "Okay, stop this!" demanded Jean while pushing Scott and Stiles further away from each other.

Clearly not getting the memo, Stiles walked closer to Scott and pointed out, "I saw you on the field today, Scott, okay? What you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."

Not thinking much of Stiles' accusation, Scott just shrugged it off and reasoned, "Yeah, so I made a good shot."

Trying to prove his point, Stiles grabbed Scott's backpack and dug around inside it to find something. When he got it, he held it to Scott's face while sharing, "No, you made an incredible shot! I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes? You know, people can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore."

So over whatever Stiles said, Scott exclaimed, "Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow." Seeing how Scott was rushing to pick up his backpack and leave the room, Stiles panicked and started to get in Scott's face again.

"Tomorrow?! What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?" belted Stiles, trying to stop Scott from leaving.

Jean was conflicted; she could feel Stiles' gaze, begging for her to step in and stop Scott from leaving. But she, too, was not convinced by the whole supernatural theory Stiles had.

Scott was so pissed at Stiles that he stammered, "What are you trying to do? I-I just made the first line. I-I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"Scott, Stiles isn't trying to ruin it, as crazy as it is, I think we should hear what-" The rest of Jean's sentence was cut short by an angry Scott calling her out, "Why are you even defending him? You don't even like him!"

Jean flinched at his loud, angry voice. That was a fair point, but... seeing Scott now, she definitely prefers Stiles crazy theory to whatever is actually happening to Scott now. Scott wasn't one to easily get mad, especially because of Stiles' antics. The Scott that Jean knows and loves is kind and patient; he's considerate and an innocent guy. Not whatever came over him now.

"Hey! Don't scream at us, we're trying to help!" Stiles quickly interjected; he saw how visibly shocked Jean was at Scott's sudden change of behavior.

Stiles took a deep breath to calm himself down before he continued in a softer tone, "You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon that will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

Scott retorted, "Bloodlust?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, your urge to kill."

Well, that's a new revelation for Jean. She didn't know werewolves had this side effect of thirsting for blood. It made sense, since they're predatory animals and all, but still, it baffled her.

Irritated, Scott replied, "I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles."

Sensing his disbelief, Stiles quickly grabbed a book-The History of Lycanthropy-from his desk and started reading aloud a paragraph from the book in an attempt to convince Scott of his theory. "You gotta hear this: 'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date."

The moment Stiles took matters into his own hands, it created a churning mass that felt like it could surge up Jean's throat at any moment.

Trying to grab Scott's phone from his backpack, Stiles announced, "I'm going to call her right now."

All signs of a bell ringing in Jean's head, warning her of the incoming chaos, headed her way fast.

"What are you doing?!" yelled Scott. He basically saw red and kept trying to take back his phone from Stiles' hand, but Stiles was blocking him with his body.

"I'm canceling the date," finished Stiles. He declared his intention, which freaked Scott out even more.

Scott bellowed, and Jean could even see the veins that bulge at his temples. "No, give it to me!"

Scott grabbed the phone out of Stiles' hand, dropping it on the floor, before shoving Stiles against the wall and raising his right fist, preparing to punch him in the face.

Jean was so shocked at what Scott was about to do that she screamed loudly, "STOP!" Even the sky outside agreed with her, as a loud rumbling was heard.

Hearing Jean's terrified scream, Scott took a deep breath, and then he let go of Stiles. Instead of punching Stiles, Scott decided to throw Stiles' desk chair across the room. Stiles looked horrified at what Scott had just done and intended to do. Seeing Stiles' and Jean's fearful faces, Scott immediately began to regret what he had just done.

He looked at the floor, his face that was once flushed with anger now turning a pale shade, and he lowered his gaze in regret before muttering to Stiles under his breath, "I'm sorry. I-I gotta go get ready for that party."

Scott picked up his phone and his backpack and headed for the door as fast as he could. Before leaving, he managed to give Stiles and Jean one last apologetic look before he went and whispered once again, "I'm sorry."

Once Scott left Stiles' room, he and Jean visibly relaxed by letting out a long breath of relief. Still very upset at Scott, Stiles roughly picked up his desk chair to put it back where it was before. He and Jean both froze in horror when they saw that the leather cover on the chair had five long slits on the back that looked like claw marks.

None of them said a word. An air of understanding flowed throughout the room. Jean now understood that Stiles' crazy theory was not so crazy anymore. The line between fiction and reality blurred that night for both of them, forever changing their paths in life.

"We have to go after him tonight," said Stiles, breaking the silence in his room.

"Yeah," mumbled Jean, still in complete shock.

"I'll pick you up at 7. Don't be late!" Jean didn't bother to look back or reply to Stiles, as she was too tired and overwhelmed by everything that had happened today.

Her walk back home was dreadful, as not a single logical thought occupied Jean's mind. She couldn't form a single logical thought that would be able to counteract how those claw marks appeared after Scott basically smashed the chair.

Knowing tonight would be another disaster, Jean decided to sleep it off, hoping to shake her shock. She needed to be ready for whatever was happening tonight, but her thoughts couldn't stop running around. The fact that this world is no longer only occupied by humans shocked Jean to the core.

Now, what? Are aliens going to show up in Beacon Hills and take over the world? Or, some unicorn appears on the side of the road? Is this going to be the new normal now? She spends the rest of what's supposed to be her sleeping off the shock, thinking the most unimaginable things.

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Later that night, Jean didn't bother to dress up. Usually, she would crash Lydia's party in style, wearing her favorite pieces of clothing, which are skirts, and styling her hair boldly. Today was different; she put on a pair of black sweatpants, a red tank top, and her black hoodie. She officially looked depressed.

Putting her hair in a ponytail, Jean quickly grabbed her sling bag and ran down the stairs as Stiles arrived. Once she was in Stiles' car, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth, reminding her how much better it would be to stay in bed rather than go to Lydia's stupid party right now.

"What are we gonna do if Scott 'wolves' out?" Jean asked nervously. She didn't like this uncharted territory. Who would have thought the supernatural world was closer than anyone imagined?

Breathe in, breathe out. She needed to calm down if she was going to make it through the night. "We'll just make sure no one's hurt," Stiles answered diplomatically. With so many variables at Lydia's party, how were they going to keep everyone safe?

She didn't get to dwell on that matter any longer as Stiles pulled up to Lydia's house. As per usual, Lydia's party was filled with horny teenagers craving the slightest bit of release for the night. Normally, Jean would be one of those teenagers, but today, she was an adult, looking after those stupid teens and making sure Scott didn't do something he would regret even more in the morning.

They were there to stake out and keep an eye on Scott. For someone on the verge of bloodlust, as Stiles had said, Scott covered it well by dancing with Allison. But then he started to get dizzy and was visibly spun around. The moment Scott headed outside the house, leaving Allison alone in the backyard, Stiles and Jean, the unlikely duo, sprung into action and rushed after him.

"Scott, are you okay?" inquired Jean after looking at Scott's hands, which were trembling for unknown reasons. Instead of answering, he continued making his way through the house, stumbling down the stone staircase to where he parked Melissa's, Scott's mom's, car.

Once he took off, from afar, the unlikely duo saw Allison get into a car with the guy from the woods, Derek. They both decided to go after Scott since it's still the full moon. Stiles drove quickly, no doubt worried about Scott.

Not wasting any time, Stiles and Jean rushed up the stairs to Scott's room and pounded on the door like hungry hyenas.

"Go away!" choked out Scott.

Ignoring Scott's request to leave, Stiles pounded on the door again and yelled, "Scott, it's me and Jean! Let us in, we can help!"

Jean wasn't sure how she could help, but she thought Stiles said that just to get Scott to let them in. What were they supposed to do anyway? She didn't really know what was happening to Scott, other than the sudden rage she had faced that afternoon.

The thought of Stiles and Jean getting closer to him caused Scott to panic. His breath came in short, rapid gasps, as if the air itself was thinning. His heart pounded wildly, each beat like a drum in his ears, drowning out all rational thought.

Feeling his new fangs starting to show, Scott begged, "No! Listen, you gotta find Allison."

"Scott! She's fine, okay? I saw her get a ride from the party," Jean quickly responded, hoping to calm Scott by letting him know his crush was safe and sound.

"Yeah, she's totally fine, all right?" added Stiles.

Harsh, rapid breaths could still be heard coming from Scott's room; he wasn't calming down, no matter what Jean and Stiles said.

He continued, "No, I think I know who it is-"

Impatiently, Stiles interrupted, "Dude, just let us in! We can try-"

In an effort to make Stiles and Jean understand his frustration, Scott claimed, "It's Derek. Derek Hale is the werewolf! He's the one that bit me. He's the one that killed the girl in the woods."

Jean and Stiles both widened their eyes in horror. How could they not have thought of this earlier? He was the only one in the woods, which is very serial killer-like since most serial killers revisit their dumping grounds. Not to mention the fact that he just knew that Scott was looking for his inhaler, as if he could read minds or something far creepier.

Knowing it was the right thing to do, Jean nervously breathed, "Scott... Derek's the one who drove Allison from the party..."

After a few seconds of silence, Stiles started rattling the doorknob while Jean banged on the door multiple times, realizing Scott wasn't going to open it any time soon.

Stiles shouted, trying to get his attention, "Scott!"

When they heard noises outside, Jean and Stiles knew that Scott was no longer in his room. "We have to check on Allison, Stiles," remarked Jean. If what Scott said was true-that Derek was the wolf that bit him-Allison was in grave danger.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you know where she lives?" inquired Jean.

"Obviously," smirked Stiles, seeming quite proud that his extensive stalker behavior was useful in this time of need. It didn't surprise Jean that Stiles knew; it freaked her out, but she wasn't surprised. There was little Stiles didn't know, and addresses weren't one of them.

When Stiles' car parked in front of Allison's house, he sprinted out of the car, rushed to the front door, and frantically rang the doorbell, wishing it would open as soon as possible. Jean had to jog to catch up with the spastic Stiles.

He muttered under his breath, "Come on... Come on... Come on..."

"She's gonna be alright, everything's gonna be just fine," wished Jean. It was hopeful, but she needed hopefulness after the day she had.

An older woman opened the door, and they both assumed it was Allison's mother. It's going to be one hell of an awkward conversation if Allison isn't actually here. Stiles, looking overwhelmed and nervous as ever, greeted, "Hi, Mrs. Argent. Um-you have no idea who I am. I'm a friend of your daughter's. Uhhh, look, this is gonna sound kind of crazy, um... really crazy, actually. You know what? Crazy doesn't even describe-"

Instead of making his point, Stiles derailed into rambling, which is what Jean expected but still found annoying. "We have come here to-" Cutting short Stiles' ramble was probably the one good deed she had done today. She saved Mrs. Argent from confusion and a waste of time.

Although, before she could even finish her sentence, Mrs. Argent seemed to know what was up and was already shouting up the staircase for Allison. When Allison walked into view for the two of them to see, they both breathed in relief; she was not harmed.

Stiles looked very flabbergasted by the sight of her, and Allison looked confused as to why he and Jean were in her house at this time of the night. Concluding that she's perfectly fine, Jean took over and said, "Um, sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Argent. Have a good night," chuckled Jean, looking quite red from embarrassment.

Once they were both in the car, loud sighs could be heard coming from them. "Thank God she's fine," stated Stiles while starting his engine.

Jean could only murmur, "Yeah, thank God."

The rest of the car ride was silent; Jean was too caught up in her own thoughts to bother paying attention to Stiles. Stiles' car stopped in front of Jean's house and forced her out of her thoughts. Before closing the jeep's door, Jean asked, "What are we gonna do with Scott?"

Staring right at Stiles' light brown eyes, she saw a small wave of uncertainty cross his face. "I'll come up with a plan," proposed Stiles confidently. One good thing about Stiles is that he's good at coming up with plans. As diabolical as it is, he was good at it.

"Night, Stiles," said Jean civilly. She thought this must've been the first time she'd actually been civil with Stiles without Scott. A day to remember, certainly. A nod of acknowledgment came from Stiles, and that's when Jean closed the jeep's door and walked away.

After Stiles left, she plopped her body onto her comfy bed. She was so exhausted from running around all day, both physically and mentally. She needed to recuperate by sleeping for at least six hours. Tomorrow was gonna be a new day where she would deal with the whole 'werewolf' ordeal.

God, it sounded so stupid just thinking about it. A werewolf-who would've thought it existed? She didn't think her sophomore year would literally alter her perspective on life. With that thought lingering in her mind, she drifted into dreamless sleep.

Early in the morning, the loud ringtone of 'Highway to Hell' blasted Jean's right eardrum. When she saw the caller ID was Stiles, she groaned. It's 5:30 in the morning, and he's already bothering her. She needs her beauty sleep for God's sake.

"What is it, Stiles?" grumbled Jean, with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

"Get ready, I'll pick you up in 10 minutes." With that, he ended the call. Seriously? Jean thought angrily. This is the second time he has done that to Jean. If he thinks he can do this continuously without any repercussions, he is so freaking wrong, and Jean intends to prove him wrong.

She decided that it was too early to shower or change her clothes; she just put on her black hoodie from last night as a coverup from the cold morning air. Two honks were heard when Jean was drinking some water to hydrate her throat.

"Where are we going?" asked Jean the moment she sat on Stiles' black leather interior jeep.

"We're picking up Scott," spoke Stiles calmly.

Both of Jean's eyes widened. "Where was he? Is he okay?" bombed Jean out of concern. Scott didn't leave any text for her regarding his whereabouts, and after last night's event, she's quite concerned about his current state.

"He's fine... I think." Stiles' nonchalant reply left Jean feeling confused as hell. She didn't know if Stiles was actually saying the truth or just guessing.

The fact that Stiles was pulling up on the road beside the woods was quite concerning for Jean. What is Scott doing at this hour near the woods? Jean wondered in silence.

Right after Scott got in the back seat, half-naked might Jean like to point out, Jean probed while she took off her black hoodie and gave it to Scott to keep him warm, "Why are you not wearing a shirt?"

Instead of replying to Jean's question, Scott just wore her hoodie and looked out the window melancholically. For a split moment, Stiles and Jean looked at each other, wondering what's wrong with Scott now.

Breaking the silence, Scott said, "You know what actually worries me the most?"

Annoyed by what Stiles knew Scott was going to say, he countered, "If you say Allison, I'm gonna punch you in the head."

"She probably hates me now," whined Scott with sadness in his gaze.

Jean insinuated cheerfully in hopes of cheering Scott up, "Probably, but you will make up for it, I know it!"

In contrast to Jean, who seemed to try to lift Scott's mood, Stiles went ahead and commented with sarcasm laced in his words, "Ugh. I doubt that. But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology. Or, you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a frickin' werewolf."

Scott looked at Stiles like he had three heads, which might be true at this point. Understanding that his friend needed a word of encouragement, Stiles fixed his statement, "Okay, bad idea."

Seeing the defeated look on Scott's face, Jean beamed, "Hey, we'll get through this."

Stiles added, with a small smile creeping on his face, "Yeah, come on, if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice."

He joked, "I had a boa once. I could do it."

Scott finally snickered at Stiles' not-so-funny joke. Hearing that, Jean plastered a grin of happiness. She could finally rest peacefully now, she thought as she closed her eyes, slowly drifting to a more peaceful sleep. All is well.

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⌦ .｡.:*♡ Side note!

Finally, I updated hehehe! Don't worry, I did my duty (very well) this is almost a 5,000-word chapter lol. Anyway, I missed you guys so much. I have been on summer break, which is very fun, but I have been spending it rotting in my bed. Until I finally have the motivation to write again (thanks to all my very productive friends). Next chapter might take some time because I have to focus on finding a topic for my upcoming paper next semester (which proves to be difficult since I have to find a specific dataset and all). Well, I'm not gonna bore you with my university's tasks and all; just know that I will keep continuing this book and look out for surprise updates ;). See yaa!