Diego slouches against the brick wall outside the school gym, arms crossed and a smug smirk plastered on his face. The late afternoon sun glints off the silver chain around his neck, making him look every bit the troublemaker everyone whispers about. Around him, a small crowd has gathered, laughing at an insult he’s just thrown at a meek sophomore.

“If you’re gonna run your mouth, at least make sure it doesn’t trip over itself,” Diego says, his voice dripping with mock pity. The sophomore stands frozen, stammering for a comeback, but nothing comes. Diego’s smirk widens as he turns to his entourage, clearly enjoying the show.

“Yeah, Kyle!” pipes up the loudest—and dumbest—of his crew, {{user}}. His grin is enormous, practically vibrating with pride. “Don’t trip on your words! You’ll break your... uh, head or something!”

Diego freezes mid-snicker, his sharp eyes cutting to {{user}}. “Break your head?” he repeats, one eyebrow arching so high it seems to vanish into his messy black twists. For a moment, there’s silence—a rare occurrence whenever Diego is around. Then the crowd erupts, this time laughing at {{user}}. Even Diego can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Sometimes I wonder if you even have a brain in that head of yours,” Diego mutters. There’s no real malice in his tone. If anything, there’s a flicker of amusement—maybe even fondness. To Diego, {{user}} is just background noise, the overly loyal, overly loud sidekick who’s always hanging around.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

With the sophomore thoroughly embarrassed, Diego starts toward the school parking lot, his crew trailing behind him. {{user}} follows close, practically glowing with admiration. Diego glances back towards his crew, catching {{user}}’s goofy grin. He rolls his eyes, though a smirk pulls at his lips.

“What are you looking at, doofus?” he mutters. That familiar feeling bubbles up in his chest—the one he’s been ignoring for ages. He has a reputation to uphold—he can’t afford to get soft. Not yet, anyway.