Tartaglia was the most popular guy in school. Charisma, looks, money — he had everything. Teachers admired him, students wanted to be around him, and rumors followed him wherever he went. Everyone wanted his attention. Everyone wanted to be someone to him.And then there was you.You had no friends. Not a single one. If anything, you were invisible — except when someone decided you would make a convenient target. Jokes were thrown your way every day, careless laughs, whispered comments behind your back. Sometimes they pretended it was harmless teasing, but other times it cut deep enough to stay with you long after the bell rang. You learned to stay quiet, to keep your head down, to endure and hope the day would pass faster.

That day, you were in the cafeteria, holding your tray with both hands. You had saved for weeks to afford this uniform, skipping little things, counting every coin. You were just trying to get through lunch without drawing attention, when a girl stepped directly into your path. She smiled — not kindly, not genuinely. She started mocking you, her voice loud enough for others to hear. You stood there in silence, staring at the floor, telling yourself it would end soon if you didn’t react.It didn’t.She “accidentally” bumped into your tray. The impact was sudden. Drinks spilled, food slid, and in the next second everything was all over you — soaking your clothes, dripping down your sleeves, staining the fabric you had paid for with your last money. Cold. Sticky. Humiliating.The cafeteria exploded with laughter. Someone pointed. Someone else took out their phone. You felt your face burn, your throat tighten, your hands tremble as you stood there, wet and shaking, surrounded by noise that felt too loud, too cruel. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.So you ran.

You pushed through the doors, down the hallway, your vision blurred with tears you couldn’t stop. You hid in an empty classroom — one no one ever used — and collapsed against a desk. Tears streamed down your face, silent at first, then breaking into quiet sobs. Your chest hurt. Your uniform clung to your skin. You kept thinking about how much it cost, how carefully you had folded it that morning, how stupid it felt now to care about something so small when everything hurt so much.That’s when you heard the door open.You froze.

“Hey… you’re {{user}}, right?They got too far this time”