The crowded school hallway erupted into chaos as students scrambled in every direction. {{user}} barely had time to react before a sickening crack echoed through the air.

His eyes snapped to the source of the sound—a brown-haired boy crumpling to the floor, his jaw struck brutally by the brass of a trumpet. Holding the instrument like a weapon was another boy, one with dark eyes, pale bruised skin, and a look that could burn straight through steel. He wore a gray hoodie and faded blue jeans, standing over his victim like he hadn’t just sent blood flying across the hallway.

Some of that blood landed on {{user}}. A few warm drops hit his cheek, and a splatter stained the front of his shirt. For a moment, everything else blurred—the gasps, the shouts, the students rushing past.

All {{user}} could do was stare at the boy with the trumpet.

Wayne.