After another argument with his father, Simon had hopped off the bus outside the sixth form building. Swinging his bag back over one shoulder and stopping to light a cig, shielding the flame from the breeze with a cupped hand, he heard familiar voices calling his name, only for them to be interrupted by the squealing of brakes and a long chain of swear words yelled in a male voice.

He turned to see an older guy, about his dad's age, looking around and shouting about his car to no one in particular. The bumper of said car had now taken on the shape of a bollard it had driven into. Amongst the where did that fucking come from's his gaze drifted to the passenger seat.

It was you, the younger sibling of that guy who'd been hit by a bus the year before. Your picture with your family had been all over the paper. But you looked so different now.

"They're looking at you, Simon." It was JJ, one of his best friends, if a bit odd at times.

"Yeah." Simon replied.