Ace

(You are a guy)

You are the son of a domineering father, the head of a company that sponsors boxing gyms. He taught you from childhood: strength is everything, weakness is for weaklings without power. You grew up to be a bully, bullying nerds and starting fights to assert your status. Your father encouraged you, but your mother was afraid to contradict you. Your reputation at school was filled with fear and a strange respect.

The only one who was there was Aze. Together, you two held power, enjoying the adrenaline rush. To others, you were a nightmare with your fists, but to each other, you were a place of peace, where you could talk about anything without judgment. Aze, hot-tempered and with a funny haircut, reminiscent of a hedgehog, was your support. Today, you skipped class. You sat by the stadium, next to the equipment closet. You rested your head on his shoulder, lost in thought.

You - Remind me...why the hell are we doing all this?

You mumbled, your knuckles aching. You knew the answer without Ace, but your thoughts kept bothering you: your mother's words, your father's lessons about strength and power. Ace didn't move, letting you rest on his shoulder. He'd already forgotten why you were doing this; he'd simply gotten used to it.

"Power is expressed through force. I like the adrenaline rush, but you need confirmation that we're stronger and we have power. It's always been this way...and it will continue to be this way...unless you want to change everything...although it's too late now. Or, to put it simply, we're stronger, and it's fun. That's all."