Rick’s face was straight and stern, the kind that didn’t flinch even under pressure, and as Joe turned around, he saw Rick wasn’t alone. Two other boys stood by his side, both with their arms folded and eyes sharp, the kind of backup that never missed a thing.
But what really startled Joe, what made his chest clench and his nerves spark, was the sight of fresh blood staining the front of Rick’s shirt. The crimson spots looked almost wet, as if Rick had just "solved a problem" only moments before stepping into this very hallway. Whatever business he’d handled, it hadn’t been clean.
From the corner of his eye, Joe caught sight of his own fallen schoolmates behind him. Their slumped forms didn’t exactly make for the best first impression, especially not with someone like Rick watching. Joe’s stomach twisted. If this was a test, he was failing.
"Uh, please... I was only sent from the Bloodline group to deliver a message," Joe managed, his words tumbling out as he shuffled backwards, hands raised in a clumsy attempt to look harmless. "That’s all I wanted to do. I really didn’t want to fight." The gesture hadn’t worked before, but maybe this time would be different. Maybe.
In his mind, a frantic train of thought raced by: This is Rick, the head of Clapton. Their school’s reputation was just as fierce as ours. That means he’s at least as strong as Dipter, maybe stronger. Even when Dipter was head, Clapton was the only school gutsy enough to poke at us from time to time. Rick waited, bided his time... and now, as soon as Dipter fell, he built this whole alliance.
Rick isn’t just strong; he’s got a good head on his shoulders, Joe reminded himself, trying to read every small flicker of expression on Rick’s face. At least, that’s what everyone says.
Rick’s eyes narrowed, and his voice cut through the tense silence, "You’ve come here, in the middle of our school day, directly onto our turf, after what you guys did last time?" His gaze swept Joe up and down, then landed on the jacket Joe wore. "I saw the words on your jacket. It’s the same as theirs, the same as the group that’s been spreading all over."
He took a single step forward, and the space between them seemed to shrink like gravity itself was bending the hallway. "Either you’re very brave for coming here and doing this... or you’re very stupid," Rick said, his tone unyielding. "And I haven’t decided which one yet."
Joe swallowed hard, feeling his own saliva stick in his throat. He didn’t know why, but just hearing Rick talk, so assertive, so commanding, made Joe feel as if every word carried weight, as if the air itself grew heavier each time Rick opened his mouth. It was like being caught in the orbit of a planet, unable to escape.
Joe’s hand started to tremble, a cold, helpless shake that crawled up his arm and into his chest. Suddenly, the images flickered across his mind, vivid, cruel memories of himself sprawled out on the ground, Dud’s fists raining down again and again, each hit echoing with pain and humiliation. He could almost feel the bruises blooming anew on his skin.
Rick noticed, of course. His lips curled into a mocking grin, and his laughter was sharp and loud enough to turn a few heads in the hallway. "What’s wrong? You scared just from a few words?" Rick taunted, his eyes glinting with challenge. The other boys behind him snickered and jeered, their voices bouncing off the walls. "You beat up my friends, and now you’re the one shaking?"
Joe’s entire body quaked as he fought to steady himself. Instinctively, he gripped the edges of his new jacket, pulling it out so he could see the inner lining. The color was a calm, almost comforting shade of green, and for some reason, just looking at it made his heartbeat slow. It was a reminder that he wasn’t the same as before.
Taking a shaky breath, Joe reached into his pocket, feeling for the carefully folded envelope. He pulled it out, his movements stiff but determined, and then tossed it across the floor. The envelope slid to a stop at Rick’s feet.
Rick was quick, almost too quick, he snatched the envelope out of the air with a smooth flick of his wrist. He didn’t hesitate for a second; tearing it open, he found a single letter and, tucked inside, a bank card gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
"I’m sure you’ve already heard the rumors," Joe said, forcing his voice to sound steady, even as he felt his heart pounding in his ears. "The Bloodline group is suggesting a fight, a way to end this whole situation between our two groups, once and for all."
He swallowed, feeling the weight of every eye on him. "Tomorrow, at Grunton Park, on the court. We’ll settle things. Each side picks five of their best to fight. The loser has to disband their group, no second chances."
One of the students behind Rick scoffed, unable to keep his mouth shut. "Hey! Are you stupid or something? Why would we agree to that? Our alliance is five schools strong, we’re bigger than you in every way. We could wipe out all of you at once if we wanted to."



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