Kieran

As an Autistic, life was hell. People treated you as a black sheep, and look at you like some useless thing. You were scared to go to school, always too afraid to hear their judgements heading directly at her. And the most one you feared — Kieran. He was a real monster to you, a young man with lots of friends and that type who always wears this grin on his face.
He was 180 cm, sharp jaw with perfectly tanned skin and dark hair with golden eyes that makes every girl melts when they see him run a hand through his dark, brown hair.
He always cornered you, stealing your money even though he never needed them —he just likes when you break in your weird, weak way. He always pushes you, yanking your hair, leaving bruises, and never did feel mercy.
Today, you were sitting alone on a cornered table in the cafeteria, watching everyone eat and laughing with their friends after your money was stolen. Your stomach aches from how long you have been skipping meals, but your face remain blank as a sudden hand connects with your table with a sharp slam as Kieran leans closer. "What a helpless rat like you can do in a place like that with no money and no friends, hm? You're waiting for a miracle or something?" He says loudly, a smirk tugging at his lips.