As students filled the classroom, a sense of excitement was in the air. Everyone was talking about how the 'Flager Industries' went bankrupt a month ago. Theories were told, and speculations were made.
"Did you ever think it was going to happen?"
"No. But there were signs."
"Oh, I remember it very clearly. Do you know that Fred Flager even gave an interview right before he left the country?"
"Yeah. Do you think that they left 'him?' Or is it just the rumours?"
"Shush! He is here. Do you see the boy sitting in the last bench?"
"Is that him? Why is he wearing a mask?"
"Probably because he is feeling embarrassed. The bastard had it coming. What?! I don't fear him any longer. He can fuck himself for all I care!"
Their words weren't subtle. Each of them knew that he was listening. Honestly, they wanted him to listen. No one could muster an ounce of sympathy for him. Some of them even wanted to go and hurl insults at him.
The protagonist of their discussion was hearing everything, yet he kept quiet. He knew that he couldn't stop them from discussing about him, or his family's condition. All he could do was to clutch his hands and be patient.
Suddenly, someone peeled off the mask from his face, and threw it on the floor, stomping on it.
"Blake, did you miss me? I, for one, did miss you. Although, you are looking quiet thin and fragile."
Blake, who was still lowering his head, was forced to look up. It was Kane, his greatest rival. He had a look of triumph on his face, which faltered for a moment when he saw Blake's face.
Kane couldn't believe Blake's face changed that much since the last time he had seen him. It wasn't that he looked bad or anything. No, he looked good. Yet, now he looked even more beautiful. Shaking his head, he tightened his grip. He would never be swayed away by his beauty.
Blake winced slightly before looking away. He tried to pull out his hand from Kane's hold but couldn't. In a span of two months, he had lost all of his muscles, making him weaker than Kane.
"Why are you refusing to meet my eyes now? You weren't like this before, were you? There is a submissive air around you. By the way, where are your friends?" asked Kane. That wasn't a surprise. His 'lackies' were now free of his control. They would definitely leave him alone.
"I don't know," replied Blake. His words were soft, and had no weight in them. They weren't his friends. He knew that they were using him, like he was using them. But now, he was a broken tool. No one would use a broken tool, nor look at it, unless they wanted to discard it. Although, they didn't even look at him while they discarded him.
Kane laughed at his words, and so did his own group of lackies. Unlike Blake, he always maintained the order of hierarchy within his group. He was their supreme leader. There were ten people in his group, excluding him.
"You can talk? I thought someone cut your tongue. How can you still afford to study here? It's a college for elites... and you are no longer an elite," Kane's eyes glinted slightly, "I remember now. You applied for scholarship. Hmmm... you are apparently good at your studies. Your grades are certainly good than mine. An ex-bully, with a beautiful face and grades, that's your fate now. Your bullying days are over, Blake."
Kane was one of the worst students in the class, while Blake was one of the top students in the whole college.
Blake requested, "Can you let go of my hand?"
"No, I am talking to you. As for your hand, I will decide when to let go of it. But if I want to break it, I will break it," said Kane. He grabbed Blake's notebook and threw it on the floor. "Where was I? Yeah, we were talking about you. Blake, can you see our classmates' eyes? They have a vindictive look in them, and I am certain that it's directed towards you. It seems no one is afraid of you any longer."
Kane released Blake's hand and went back to his seat. His lackies also went back to their seats.
A red mark was visible on Blake's hand, which made his desire to lower his presence even more. He could feel his classmates' eyes on him. Each of them had a vendetta against him.
Blake squatted down to pick up his notebook when someone walked over his hand, making him release a painful hiss. The boy, who walked over his hand, didn't even apologize to him. Instead, he walked away.
Rubbing his hand, Blake couldn't understand why they hated him so much.
Yes, he was a bully... or, an ex-bully, if he accepted Kane's terminology, which was in fact true. But he hadn't bullied everyone, especially the girls. Yet, they were also looking at him with hatred and disgust. Also, he never hurt anyone physically.
Suddenly, the chemistry teacher walked in. Every student went silent and focused their attention on him. He was glaring at everyone.
The chemistry teacher was a bald man in his fifties. He had three kids, and one dog. His wife recently divorced him, which explained his bad mood.
He snarled, "Open your notebooks, and write a note on the process of hydrogenation. You have two minutes time."
The students quickly opened their notebooks and started writing in them. They didn't want his anger to be directed on them.
Blake also started writing, ignoring the pain in both of his hands.
He just wished the day to be more peaceful. Maybe if he didn't bother anyone and kept quiet, no one would bother him too. He wanted to be ignored by everyone. A lone tear trickled down his left eye, which he immediately wiped away with the back of his hand.