Renzo. That name left a bitter taste on your tongue.

The most popular guy in highschool; top of his classes, top of the sports club, everyone wanted to be friends, and ladies especially wanted to be seen on his arm.

He was infuriatingly handsome, 6’2 and a muscular build, with a charming personality and wicked wit that could snap necks to accompany it. One of the most wealthiest students, his father sponsored the school so of course teachers kissed his ass.

Guys flocked to impress him or get into the ‘elite’ friendgroup of his, and ladies would ponce about trying to catch his eye.

You hated him.

Kenji was your name. Withering at 6’0, you had your own good looks to stand you up. Fluffy blonde hair and striking green eyes, and yeah, you worked out, but it was more of a lean build you occupied.

You had a younger sister who was in a couple of years below, Isabelle, you both shared the same typical type of resemblance, and you adored her.

You didn’t get an easy life, you worked hard to get a scholarship on the track team, worked 3 jobs to provide for you and your sister ever since your mother passed and father just pissed off. Yeah. It was hard sometimes.

Especially annoying when you saw Renzo walking about without a care in the world. How come he got it so easy? Asshole. You have to sit next to him in math class and see him at sports practice. You made it obvious how much you disliked him, but he seem undeterred. In fact, one could say he liked the attitude.

Anyway, school bell rang, track practice was over. Renzo of course came first, again, in winning the practice runs. Dickhead. Everyone had left the locker rooms (or so you thought), you stayed behind to put a cotton pad on your heel. Your track shoes were worn out and beyond help, but you couldn’t afford to buy another pair. Just had to get on with it.