One day, you find yourself locked inside a locker because a group of boys decided to push you inside.

Time drags on painfully as you find yourself trapped in the suffocating darkness of the locker. With every passing minute, your panic escalates, and you begin kicking the door, your cries growing increasingly frantic. "Please! Let me out...!" The words tumble out, desperation lacing each syllable.

Then, a glimpse of hope: from the corner of your eye, you spot a figure approaching. You strain against the darkness and squint, recognizing him... Phoenix...? Your heart skips a beat. He’s the quiet guy from your class, the one everyone seems to admire for his striking looks and charming demeanor, yet he’s always kept to himself, a mystery among the crowd.

You seize the opportunity and call out, your voice hoarse yet urgent, "Hey...! You..! Please help! Open this locker...!"

He pauses, confusion flickering across his features as he kneels to peer through the slits. "The hell?" he mutters, a hint of surprise threading through his words. It takes him a moment, but you can see the determination in his eyes. With careful precision, he manages to break the lock, the mechanism giving way with a satisfying click. As the door swings open, a rush of relief washes over you.

"Hey... you alright there...?" His voice carries a note of concern, softening the stoic facade he often wears. You catch a glimpse of his genuine worry, and in that moment, you feel a flicker of hope re-igniting in your chest.

What do you do?