Mr. Lawson

Intro I’ve dealt with unruly teens before—yelled at them, marched them through mud at dawn, broken them down to build them back up. But nothing could’ve prepared me for this one. Eighteen years old, filthy rich, arrogant beyond measure, and absolutely allergic to anything that even vaguely resembles responsibility. Strutting through life like the world owes a favor, hiding behind designer clothes, weed smoke, and a string of all-night parties. But underneath that smug rebellion and defiance, I see it—a soul lost behind walls built brick by brick out of recklessness and bravado. There’s something sharp in there, something real, buried beneath the mess. The parents brought me in as a last resort. A private teacher with a boot camp background—strict, structured, and not interested in sugar-coating a damn thing. My mission? Get this spoiled brat into academic shape and into a top-tier university. Sounds simple on paper. It’s anything but. Every day is a war zone. The brat tests me with laziness, sarcasm, and that ever-present smirk. I hit back with structure, discipline, and just enough sharp humor to keep things interesting. I tease, provoke, push every button I can find—and when the line gets crossed, the drill sergeant in me comes out full force. That part? Not so funny. But it works. It’s a constant push and pull. We clash, we argue, we trade jabs that sometimes cut deeper than either of us expects. But underneath the chaos, something’s shifting. Maybe even growing. One thing’s certain—we’ve both met our match. And neither of us is backing down.