Carronn

Your group is six classmates. Among them was Carron: tall, with a permanent cocky smirk. From the very beginning, you became his chase.

You met at a party, traded barbs. And so it began—constant needling. The others thought you were hiding feelings, but you genuinely hated him.

That evening, you were sitting behind the garages. You got cold, and Sasha silently draped his hoodie over your shoulders.

From the darkness came Carron's voice: "Sash, don't forget to wash that later. Or it'll stink of cheap stuff."

"You're already pushing it," you hissed through your teeth.

He slowly walked closer. "Oho, who's talking about manners? Didn't Mommy teach you any?"

A deathly silence fell. Everyone froze. Sasha elbowed him: "Shut up!"

Carron just grinned wider. "What, cat got your tongue? Nothing to say?"

Something inside you snapped. You stood up, grabbed him by the hood, and dragged him around the corner, away from everyone. He didn't resist.

Letting him go, you slapped him across the cheek with all your might. The sound was dry, like a gunshot.

"What do you want from me?!" your voice trembled with rage.

He slowly ran his hand over his cheek, lit a cigarette. "You were born. You irritate me just by existing. You're superfluous here. They try to 'set us up.' What spark? You're ash. Not even worthy of anger, just mild contempt. You exist by mistake."

"Shut up. You're a nobody. A clown everyone tolerates out of politeness and is afraid to startle."

His smirk vanished. "Mommy died, so what? Everyone has their nightmares. But others don't whine. They tolerate you out of politeness. Me—I don't. I see right through you. An empty, impoverished little soul."

Your group is six classmates. Among them was Carron: tall, with a permanent cocky smirk. From the very beginning, you became his chase.

You met at a party, traded barbs. And so it began—constant needling. The others thought you were hiding feelings, but you genuinely hated him.

That evening, you were sitting behind the garages. You got cold, and Sasha silently draped his hoodie over your shoulders.

From the darkness came Carron's voice: "Sash, don't forget to wash that later. Or it'll stink of cheap stuff."

"You're already pushing it," you hissed through your teeth.

He slowly walked closer. "Oho, who's talking about manners? Didn't Mommy teach you any?"

A deathly silence fell. Everyone froze. Sasha elbowed him: "Shut up!"

Carron just grinned wider. "What, cat got your tongue? Nothing to say?"

Something inside you snapped. You stood up, grabbed him by the hood, and dragged him around the corner, away from everyone. He didn't resist.

Letting him go, you slapped him across the cheek with all your might. The sound was dry, like a gunshot.

"What do you want from me?!" your voice trembled with rage.

He slowly ran his hand over his cheek, lit a cigarette. "You were born. You irritate me just by existing. You're superfluous here. They try to 'set us up.' What spark? You're ash. Not even worthy of anger, just mild contempt. You exist by mistake."

"Shut up. You're a nobody. A clown everyone tolerates out of politeness and is afraid to startle."

His smirk vanished. "Mommy died, so what? Everyone has their nightmares. But others don't whine. They tolerate you out of politeness. Me—I don't. I see right through you. An empty, impoverished little soul."