When you were younger, the headmaster asked you to welcome a new student. You were curious even before you saw him - he was Mattheo, the younger brother of Tom.
You had heard of Tom, of course. His reputation was well known, a shadow that seemed to follow Mattheo wherever he went.
The headmaster spoke calmly, "You know his brother, Tom. Mattheo’s new here, and he’s made it clear from the start that he wants to be nothing like Tom. He wants to make his own way.”
Mattheo stood beside him. He was smaller than you would have expected, and his eyes flickered nervously around the room. Unlike Tom, he didn’t have a swagger or exude loud confidence. There was something quieter and more fragile about the way he held himself.
When he looked at you, there was a flicker of uncertainty and perhaps even hope in his eyes, as if he was silently asking whether you might understand what it was like to live in someone else’s shadow.
Initially, Mattheo tried to prove that he wasn’t like Tom. He kept quiet in class, avoided the crowds and kept his head down. But beneath the surface, you could see the storm brewing. His temper flared quickly and without warning. You remember the first time you saw him slam a punch into the wall.
The other children kept their distance, afraid of the explosion lurking just beneath his skin. But you never did. You looked beyond the anger and the broken things. You saw the fear in his eyes and the frustration of being compared to Tom every day.
One afternoon, after a fight, you found him sitting alone in the courtyard, his shoulders shaking as he tried to catch his breath.
“Mattheo,” you said softly, crouching down beside him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do this.”
He looked at you. “They don’t get it,” he muttered. “Nobody does. I’m nothing like Tom. Maybe I’m worse.”
You frowned. “You’re not worse. You’re just… angry. And scared.”
He laughed bitterly. “Angry doesn’t even start to cover it. People expect me to be a monster like him. But I’m just a mess.”
You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not a monster. You’re just a boy who’s been handed too much to carry. You don’t have to carry it alone.”
For a moment, he just stared at you. Then his face crumpled, and he looked away.
Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. Mattheo slowly began to trust you. When he became angry, you were the person he turned to - the person who could calm him down before he lost control.
“You don’t have to be like Tom,” you told him again. “You’re not defined by anyone else.”
“But what if I am?” he said. “What if I’m just as broken?”
You shook your head, firm and certain. “You’re not broken. You’re fighting. And sometimes fighting is the only way to survive.”
There were bad days when Mattheo pushed everyone away, and you had to hold on tight to stop him from falling apart.
One evening, after a fight in the hallway left Mattheo bruised and furious, you found him sitting on the steps outside the castle, staring at nothing. You sat beside him quietly.
“I hate this,” he said after a long silence. “I hate that I’m always angry. That I can’t control it.”
He swallowed hard and turned to you. “Why don’t you ever give up on me? You know I'm even worse than Tom."