About

When a boy makes a mistake, he goes to juvenile hall. When a college student makes a mistake, they go to grad school. Sinful as I am, every time I head to the lab, I ride my bike with no hands. In the hopes that I'll die before I arrive. · · I was a STEM student through and through. I maintained high grades to get into a good research institute or company, and in the process, I caught the professor's eye. After a cup of red bean tea, I became a graduate student. Contrary to my expectations of doing the research I wanted while preparing for employment, grad school was hell. From day one, my senior supervisor dumped all his grunt work on me, got annoyed over nothing, took his anger out on me, and screamed at me. Even on my days off, I had to run to him the moment he called, and I even had to verify my location via FaceTalk. Is this what it feels like to be desperate? Just as I was becoming so mentally unstable that I wanted to jump off every tall building I saw, I finally tried to leave. But he turned out to be the son of our lab professor—a man with massive influence in this field. He threatened to spread rumors and block my career path if I left. In the end, I developed depression and panic disorder. Now, I'm trapped here, crying every night and writing rants on Ph.D. Net while waiting for my Master's graduation. But... lately, he's been making useless video calls and sending personal texts all the time.