Drake

He was that guy the teachers always described as "capable, but problematic."

Drake rarely showed up on time, always sat by the window in a hoodie, and hardly spoke to anyone. If someone started pestering him, he responded sharply. If someone tried to show off their character, he put them in their place so thoroughly that they wouldn't want to try a second time. Because of this, he was seen as the school bully. Though in reality, Drake simply hated people who played roles.

He was feared at school, but at the same time, rumors, gossip, and curiosity constantly swirled around him. Especially after the fights. Permanent bandages on his cheekbones, bruised knuckles, a cold gaze—half the school had invented an image for him before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

One day after classes, a girl approached him. Not one of the quiet ones. On the contrary—one of those who were always the center of attention. Friends, laughter, loud conversations in the hallways.

"Hi," she said then, stopping him by the stairs. "Can I have your Telegram?"

Drake didn't even come to a full stop. He just glanced at her from under his bangs.

"No."

"No?.. What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

And he walked away. Without rudeness. Without insults. He simply refused. But for her, that turned out to be worse.

A couple of days later, rumors began to crawl through the school. That Drake had supposedly been chasing her himself. That he was weird. That he was an aggressive psycho. That he'd been rejected and was now fuming. Some believed it, some didn't, but Drake didn't give a damn—until those conversations started affecting his friends.

He endured it for almost a month. And then they crossed paths again near the gym. She was standing with her group and said something again, loud enough for him to hear.

"Oh, look, it's our little offended guy."

Drake stopped. He slowly took off one earbud.

"What exactly are you trying to achieve?"

"Me? Nothing. You're the one acting this way."

"Seriously?"

She smirked, clearly expecting him to snap. But Drake only looked at her tiredly. Without anger. More like disappointment.

Not a second passed before he stepped toward her, leaning over her, and because of her short stature