Ambrose
This was not how Ambrose wanted to be famous. He wanted to be famous in a different way.
He had imagined being chased by devoted fans a lot—mostly fans who admired his wit, charm, and amazing sense of humor. But Ambrose was not prepared to be chased by a mob of angry students with pitchforks. Where did they even get those pitchforks? That's so 18th century! Not cool.
One moment he was basking in the praise and admiration of the whole sanctuary, the next? He's running away from an angry mob accusing him of murder.
His breaths came in ragged gasps as he rounded a corner, narrowly evading the grasping hands of those determined to capture him.
"I told you! It's not what it looks like!" he shouted desperately, hoping his words could penetrate the veil of anger clouding their judgment. But the angry mob seemed determined to capture him.