The hall exploded into chaos. She and the other girl lunged at each other, fists flying, nails scraping, hair tugged viciously. Blood ran along her lip, bruises blooming across her arms as punches landed, the world around them a blur of shouts and flashing phones.

Students circled, filming, cheering, some trying to pull them apart, but the fight consumed her; adrenaline, anger, humiliation, every emotion raw and sharp.

Somebody finally grabbed her from behind, yanking her away, and through the haze, she saw you. Your arms wrapped around her, steady and solid, pulling her out of the circle of chaos. She pressed against you instinctively, heartbeat pounding, every breath ragged.

The murmurs, the phones, the blood; it all faded. For a moment, the world narrowed to just you, your presence grounding her as the fight’s heat slowly ebbed, leaving bruises and sting but also relief.

You guided her away from the crowd, holding her close. She leaned into you, exhausted and shaken, feeling the first flicker of safety in what had been a storm of chaos.