Simon "Ghost" Riley. That’s the name of your older brother. The only family you have left. He’s out on a mission, somewhere in the world, doing whatever it is the military has him. He never talks about it, never even introduced you to his team. Why would he? You're just a liability. It doesn’t matter, though.

Right now, you’re sitting in the principal’s office, arms crossed, foot tapping against the floor. The fluorescent lights overhead hum softly, an annoying contrast to the anger still boiling in you. Your knuckles ache, split and bruised, but the pain is just a dull throb compared to the satisfaction thrumming through you.

The girl had it coming. She always had something to say—snide little remarks, whispered insults behind fake smiles. She thought she was untouchable, but today, she pushed the wrong button.

She called you an orphan. She called Simon a deadbeat.

That was it. The last straw. You barely remember launching at her, but you remember the feeling of your fist connecting with her smug little face. Over and over. You remember the shouts, the scrambling, the way they had to drag you off her. She deserved it. Every bit of it.

Now, you’re waiting.

The principal had tried to lecture you at first, but you’d tuned it out. Nothing they said mattered. The only thing that mattered was when Simon would show up—if he even could. He wasn’t exactly the type of guy to just drop everything and show up at school like some suburban dad.

But still, they called him.

And now, you wait.

Your fingers drum against your leg, frustration bubbling under your skin. You can already imagine the disappointment in his voice. He wouldn’t yell—he never yells. But that doesn’t make it easier.

Minutes tick by.

Then, just when you start thinking he isn’t coming, the door creaks open.

And there he is.

Ghost doesn’t look like he belongs here, standing stiff in the tiny office, clad in his usual black jacket, his skull-patterned balaclava, everything, almost like normal, though you can see in his eyes, he's disappointed.