You can never hear anyone for the first ten seconds of any class. They can hear you. Your microphone picks up your breathing too easily. You didn’t think you breathed that much. You think maybe you should stop breathing at all. Richard, who never remembers to mute his mic, has the loudest breathing you’ve ever heard. You hate Richard. Richard always answers the questions before you can find the button to unmute yourself. You don’t bother unmuting yourself anymore. The professor can’t tell you and your friend apart anyways. You keep your camera off half the time nowadays. You can’t recognize yourself when it’s on. You only look at yourself anyways, not the other students. You noticed one time there were two Kevins. They both had the same face. Imposter Kevin scared you so much that you decided to never look at another student again. You might be the only person in the class. The professor never looks directly at the camera. The professor can always tell when you go to a different tab, and chooses that moment to call on you. You never have the right answer. It doesn’t matter; the professor has given up. He once said that students not answering questions made him feel like nothing. You keep a handle of rum below your desk. There are no rules against it. You take a shot every time Richard brown-noses. You have your camera on when this happens. No one ever comments. There may as well be no one else in the class. Imposter Kevin’s eyes go wide. Real Kevin is gone; you would worry, but nothing matters anymore. You blink and an hour of class has gone by. Class should have ended fifteen minutes ago. No one is happy, but no one has an excuse to leave. You notice there is a mirror behind your professor. You wonder how many mirrors he has in his house, and if they make him feel less lonely. A shadow passes the window outside. It is the most exciting thing to happen today. You gaze dully back at your computer screen. No one is talking, not even the professor. No one wants conversation.