The trio walked quietly down the cracked sidewalk toward Silver High, the morning air thick with tension and distant sounds of city life.
Adrian was the first to break the silence. He popped his lollipop out of his mouth with a soft click and looked at Mark with a sideways grin.
> "So, new guy… where you from, and what brings you to the city of Brookhaven?"
He walked with a casual swagger, each step like he owned the pavement. Payal walked beside him, still watching Adrian like he was a main character and the rest of the world was background noise.
Mark answered calmly,
> "As I said before, I'm Mark Wilson. My family and I just moved here not too long ago... now I'm enrolling at your school."
Adrian gave a thoughtful nod and popped the lollipop back in.
> "Ah, I see…" he mumbled, voice slightly muffled. Then, with a sudden pause:
"One last question for you, Mark... Are you strong?"
Mark blinked.
> "What do you mean by that?"
Adrian smirked and stopped walking, his lollipop shifting to the other side of his mouth.
> "C'mon. You know what I mean. You saw what went down with Payal earlier."
He motioned around them at the graffiti-covered walls, the cracked streets, the faint sound of a siren howling blocks away.
"This isn't some fairy tale suburb. Out here, only the strong survive. And I can already tell..."
He looked Mark up and down.
"You don't know jack about fighting."
Mark stayed silent, eyes narrowing.
> "But hey," Adrian shrugged, "You're in luck. I like you. So if anyone gives you trouble, just say my name. Adrian's got your back."
He flashed a grin, lollipop dancing between his teeth, hands deep in his pockets.
Mark didn't reply, but the message was loud and clear.
As his thoughts swirled, Adrian's voice pulled him back.
> "Looks like we're here."
He gestured ahead.
"Welcome to Silver High, Mark."
The school stood tall and tired — beautiful in a broken sort of way, like it had stories carved into every dented locker and cracked window.
Payal, silent until now, finally spoke.
> "You're enrolling today, right? Reception's to the left."
> "Thanks," Mark said with a small nod.
Adrian gave a playful wink and turned to walk away, lollipop back in place.
> "Hope we see each other again, new guy."
And with that, Adrian and Payal disappeared into the school crowd, leaving Mark standing alone at the edge of something bigger than he understood.
As Mark made his way deeper into Silver High, he couldn't help but feel a jolt of excitement. The school's interior was nothing like what he was used to back in Zimbabwe. Modern hallways, towering lockers, and the distant sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors — it all felt like something out of a TV show.
He passed by classrooms where students were focused, taking notes, chatting softly — all surprisingly... normal.
Until he turned the corner.
A group of students stood clustered in the hallway. Tattoos. Piercings. Loud laughter. Every one of them looked like they stepped straight out of a gang flick. They stopped what they were doing as Mark approached.
One of them — taller than the rest, clearly the leader — stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
> "Well, well, well… what do we have here? A new student?"
He blew a puff of cigarette smoke directly into Mark's face. Mark coughed slightly, waving the smoke away. The leader leaned in with a twisted smile.
> "What's your name, scrawny boy?"
Mark swallowed the lump in his throat and kept his voice calm, though fear squeezed his chest.
> "Please… I don't want any trouble. Just let me pass."
The punk chuckled.
> "Or else what, huh?"
His voice dripped with mockery, eyes gleaming with cruelty.
Before it could go any further, one of his goons leaned in, whispering urgently:
> "Hey, John... might not be a good idea to mess with that kid."
> "Why not?" John asked, confused. "He doesn't look strong."
> "Maybe not," the goon replied, glancing around, "...but word is, he's close with Adrian."
The name dropped like a bomb. John's face instantly changed — the bravado vanished, replaced by stiff anxiety.
> "Tch... I see." He stepped aside with a forced smile.
"Run along now, boy. Don't wanna be late."
Mark blinked in surprise but didn't say a word. He simply nodded and kept walking.
As he moved down the hall, he noticed other rough-looking students watching him. Some whispered. Some backed off entirely. None approached.
And for the first time since arriving at Silver High, Mark felt safe.
It wasn't his strength keeping him afloat. It was Adrian's name — and it carried more weight than any punch ever could.
After wandering the hallways for a while, Mark finally spotted the office he'd been looking for.
> "Okay… this it, I guess," he thought, knocking lightly on the door.
> "Come in," a calm voice called.
Mark stepped inside and froze. Unlike the rest of the school, this room looked elegant in a Victorian way — minimal yet commanding, every item carefully placed, exuding subtle authority.
Across from him sat a man in his forties, impeccably groomed and dressed in a black suit. Papers neatly stacked on the desk, he looked up and gave Mark a gentle smile.
> "Good morning, boy. You must be Mark Wilson. I spoke to your mother yesterday about your enrollment."
The man's voice carried a smooth British accent, calm yet authoritative.
> "Yes, sir. I'd like to enroll today if possible," Mark said, handing over the payment.
> "Jolly good, then. Here's your uniform. Don't worry — your measurements were well accounted for."
Mark smiled awkwardly and backed toward the door.
> "Oh, and one more thing," the principal called, glancing up from his papers.
"You'll be assigned to Class 1A. The male bathroom is just to the left of the corridor you came from."
Mark nodded and walked toward the bathroom to change.
In the mirror, Mark adjusted his uniform: a white long-sleeve dress shirt, black tie hidden beneath a white sweater, and a blazer with silver horizontal lines across the forearms. A black circle with a silver crescent moon badge adorned the chest pocket. He wore black dress trousers and the same black Balenciaga sneakers he had before.
Though slightly scrawny, his soft sharp features and natural poise gave him a quiet confidence.
Navigating the confusing layout of Silver High, Mark began to feel his first day's fatigue set in — until a voice broke the silence:
> "Hey there."
Mark turned to see a girl around his age, with long orange hair, freckles, and glasses.
> "Oh… hey," Mark said.
She smiled warmly.
> "I see you're having a hard time finding your class, huh?"
> "Yeah, it's my first day," he admitted.
> "I totally understand — I felt the same way on my first day," she said, stepping closer. "So, where are you headed?"
> "Class 1A," Mark replied.
> "Oh! That's my neighboring class. Come on, I can show you the way."
As they walked, she chattered lightly, asking Mark a string of questions. He responded mostly with nods or short answers, trying to keep up.
After about ten minutes, a sign appeared ahead: 1A.
> "Looks like you've reached your destination… and this happens to be mine too," she said, gesturing to 1B.
Mark paused, realizing he hadn't asked her name.
> "Oh… I didn't even ask — your name?"
> "Bianca," she said, her voice slightly shaky from excitement.
> "Thanks, Bianca," he said with a small smile, making her blush.
> "You're welcome," she murmured.
Mark waved slightly and walked toward his classroom, feeling a small sense of comfort in the midst of the overwhelming first day.
Mark walks over to the door and knocks. The door is opened by a teacher who seems to be in the middle of conducting a lesson.
"Ah, you must be Mark. Come in," the teacher says, stepping aside. Mark enters.
"Class, we have a new transfer student today." The teacher gestures for Mark to step forward.
Mark scans the classroom—faces full of curiosity, whispers buzzing—until his eyes land on a familiar sight. At the very back of the class, surrounded by a group of laughing girls, sits Adrian. A cocky grin spreads across Adrian's face the moment their eyes meet, but Mark remains indifferent.
"Hello, my name is Mark Wilson… I look forward to working with you all," Mark says calmly.
"Alright, Mark, you can take the empty desk next to Mister Reed," the teacher instructs, pointing to the seat by Adrian.
Mark walks down the aisle, catching snippets of whispered commentary as he passes.
"Whoa, he's tall…"
"He looks kinda serious, huh?"
"Not bad-looking though…"
A boy near the window mutters, "Tch, another pretty boy…"
Mark takes his seat without reacting.
"Hey Mark, I didn't think we'd meet again this soon," Adrian says, smirking, lollipop stick between his teeth as two girls cling to his arms, glaring at each other over him.
"Neither did I," Mark replies evenly, settling into his chair. "But here we are."
Adrian leans back casually, grin never fading. "So let's make the most of it, yeah?"
A hush spreads across the class. Some of the students exchange puzzled looks.
"Wait, they know each other?"
"Mark doesn't look fazed at all… is he cool with Adrian?"
"This year's about to get interesting…"
The tension lingers in the air, a quiet spark between the two boys, as the teacher clears his throat and resumes the lesson.