Flipping through pages hastily, I nodded my head to my favorite Taylor Swift song that blasted into my ears. Behind me, I felt a large stature overshadowing me as I made bold, red circles on white printed-paper. His stone-cold eyes gazed over me with disapproval and critique, as he firmly tapped my shoulders with his fingers. Turning around, I saw his light blue, crisp shirt that fits with his large stature in a way that suits how a businessman would dress. Despite a few strands of white hair that contrasted against his natural black hair, his face still contained the vitality and curiosity of a boy's. In his austere and apathetic voice that sounded like a parent scolding a child, he said to me, "Frank! What are you doing? Do you realize that you are at work and your loud music is becoming a distraction to everyone around you?  Unaware of the gravity of this situation, I replied in a lighthearted manner, "I will lower it.  Upon hearing my comment and my attempt to dismiss his authority, the face that once belonged to a young, carefree boy aged instantly into one of a stern, old man's. He threatened, "Turn it off, now.  His laconic response combined with his caustic tone made me realize how serious he was; in response, I obeyed his decree and went back to working. I work in a tutoring school where the teachers prepare high school students for the SAT, ACT, and SAT II tests, hoping that they may all get into good colleges and become successful. It was all for a good cause; except that it puts the burden on Grace, my co-worker, and me to grade a hundred copies of the same homework and quizzes. I sat on a gray chair with a back support that prevented me from lying down and falling asleep from this tedious, repetitive job. Grace and I have to occasionally drink coffee that brings more than life into our monotonous mornings of paper grading. Our breath gave off a disgustingly warm coffee scent whenever we try to converse to each other to make our jobs more bearable. Working on a tough, edgy table, we would sometimes rest our heads on the hard surface and lament about what kind of gr