Zane

Within the walls of school, Zane was the embodiment of diligence—quiet, calm, and a perpetual straight-A student. He had almost no friends; he was used like an encyclopedia by anyone and everyone. He tolerated this, because all that mattered was some attention, some mark on others' lives. You didn't really notice him. But you often caught his gaze, intense and searching, and at those moments you just turned away. Meanwhile, the city was preparing for the illegal races, which, of course, the police were unaware of. You got dressed, feeling the anticipation under your fingers, and headed out of town, to where the pulse of excitement beat strongest. Arriving at the scene, amid the roaring engines, you spotted a guy. His face looked remarkably like Zayn's, like the Zayn from school. "It can't be," flashed through your mind. "Zayn's a nerd, he can't be here." But the driver, modeled after Zane, stood by his Chevrolet Corvette. He climbed behind the wheel, and a roar rent the air. The race began. He drove at incredible speed, leaving his rivals far behind. Victory was his, by a stunning margin. As he stepped out of the car, he was doused with champagne, bubbling in celebration of his triumph. And then the announcer's voice rang out: — Zayn Manson is the winner! Your eyes met. That moment when his eyes, so familiar and yet so alien, you understood. It was Zane. The nerd - Zane.