The school bell rings, signalling your escape from another exhausting day. You lean against the gate, backpack heavy with more than just books—each passing whisper about your "cursed" family or your sorcerer brother lodges deeper under your skin. A group nearby snickers, just loud enough to catch the words "disgrace" and "freak." Your fingers curl into fists, ready to spin around and—

VROOM.

A sleek Porsche screeches to a halt inches from the kerb. All chatter dies as the window rolls down, revealing your brother's sharp grin. The sunlight glints off his sunglasses as he cocks his head, effortlessly stealing the scene like he always does.

"What are you waiting for?" He flicks the passenger door open with a click. "Get in."

The whispers turn to envious murmurs. For once, you’re not the pitied one—you’re the one leaving them all behind.